Things have taken a turn and there is salt in my wounds
I am all teeth;
As I listen to a chorus of cicadas sing along with the wind
I am young and invincible with nothing to lose
I smell the rain coming this afternoon
A wood dock in front of the pond
I stand barefoot on
I remember this pond
When two otters got in it
And Ate all the blue gill

I have pin marks in my flesh
Teeth marks on my heart
Claw marks in the small of my back
I cannot reach them
When they ache

I wished to be a Firstborn
To live with the river
And stand  barefoot
At the door of my hut
I watch the sun come up
The jungle breathing hot breath around me

I will hunt as the old ones hunted
Taking on the form of the Panther or the Spider
I learned patience
Waiting for my web to vibrate
Waiting for the rain to stop
I grew quick learning the paths through the trees
The world is a sea of sight and smell and sound

I was a great fish
Living in a rock shelf
Where small bugs would land
But I feared leaving the safety of the walls
Because I once bit a hook

I had eaten with my sons
And drank with my sons
I fell to sleep
Dreaming of youth

I watched her bathing in the river for a while
Swimming in the dark water
Suddenly I am wrestling with the tale of a great viper
Its fangs bared-hissing and scales pitch black
She sees me watching her bath from the bank
She  calls me a coward
The serpent laughs
You are weak
Then the snake changed
And she stands nude before me
Speaking:
You will die when the river floods next
And your sons will put your body
In my belly

I'm tired of living my life taking orders from fate in a language I cannot comprehend let a lone understand
It's too intricate and complicated to start to untangle all the excuses were using to confuse things
I can find that momentary happiness at the end of the bottle and some solace in the pills
I can lose myself to the pain anger and passion when I take possession of another soul that succumbs
To all of the darkness and silly rigidity of all of my sorry dreams and pathetic hopeful fancy
You thought it was love when I choke fucked you until you came like stars singing and fading
I just thought of someone else I love hate can't have to hold humiliate

(I think I've lost the ability to start things, so please forgive this poem for not having an attention grabbing genesis)
I've been twiddling my thumbs for almost eight months now
Putting off all that I care about
(And especially everything that I don't. Here's lookin' at you, AP World History)
Sitting around amassing a booklet of words to use in the future for novels and whatnot
But only using them in essays so I seem smarter than I am
(For example, susurrus means 'a whispering or rustling sound; a murmur')
Hording anything affiliated with Ben Folds because he makes me feel things on occasion
(I currently have 189 songs of his on my iTunes library; No one understands me.)
Making dick jokes at lunch while masking the thoughts of substance ricocheting around in my head
(Also your mom jokes because no one would think that you're crying internally about the uncertainty of the afterlife whilst making lewd stabs at their mother's integrity(and vagina. Ba dum tss.))
Apparently craving the lingering feel of another's touch
As illustrated by my subconscious through the medium of dreams
(I had a dream a few weeks back that Ben Folds licked my hand; My stomach folded (hahahah, folded) in on itself.)
Thinking that my feelings of misanthropy and apathy and everything else I can't find the words for yet are mine alone because everyone else is too stupid to have thought them themselves
(Even though I know that I'm not particularly special and I should stop being so elitist and stupid)

But I've finally found a light at the end of the table in the last place I'd expect--
(I meant to say tunnel, but hey, the source of said light does sit at my lunch table.)
A cherubic Presbyterian boy with an aversion to all things perverse,
(Which includes my sailor's tongue and occasional tendencies to want to put it on a member of my own sex, thought he doesn't know about that)
A spec on cleanliness on the grimy waistcoat of humanity who makes me want to be the best I can be
(Today when I saw him, I only swore once; I was very proud of myself)
But maybe I'm just jumping the gun
Because what would a good Christian boy want with a heathen like me who isn't even sure she believes in God?
Maybe his prolonged contingencies were merely contingent and I'm just overreacting because of my few and far between incidences of human contact.
(Seriously. Don't touch me.)
Maybe I just want someone to talk to for hours about everything and nothing at all.
(What with me being relatively antisocial, it's hard to find people with similar mindsets.)
Maybe it's just because the way the Bible quote on the back of his t-shirt conflicted so humorously with the way he shook his hips to a J-Lo song on "Just Dance."
(Seriously, though, it was hilarious. I was dying.)
Or the way our fingers brushed when we were catching frogs
Or the way he blushed when I stepped out in my bikini
(I went to a pool party today.)
Or the way he held me momentarily in the delirious confusion of the flashing strobe lights
Or the way he got one point higher on his research paper than me a month ago
(He was excited; I was upset.)
Or the way that he does everything nearly to perfection.
I could go on..
But I don't know.
Maybe I'll get over him in a week and slip back into myself.
Because, like I said, what would a good Christian boy want with a heathen like me?

Your back is almost broken.
Your mind is almost taken.
Your sex is just a token
Of the hearts you've broken
On the day you kneel down.

You used to know the clean cool water
As it drove itself around the bend.
But you forgot the notes from father
His will found you talking without end.

Find the silence frozen in you mind,
The half-song that was your pride.
Feel the stomps of boots on soil.
That's our rythm, and the sign its time to move.

You feel the hands of thunder reaching out to touch
The lightning you forgot was still hidden in your groin.
Everything else you know doesn't matter that much.
Lets find our masks and guns and go find the coins
That only we know were ours, but still belong to us.

You will know the answer to the riddle in her cries.

You will remember every word you ever heard.

You will finally know why you did the things you did.

You will agree with all the reasons why she left.

You will see there's no wrong, but only right.

You will see the dirty dreams she dreams at night.

You are the rapist and the raped.

You are the guard at your master's gate.

You'll hear the the secret that you feared.

The music of the game of masks.

You'll know the end has come and gone.

The sound of lightning when it comes around.

On the day you kneel down.

The clock slowly ticks, ticking ticking ticking,
As time has come to a stop.
All we can hear is the ticking,
The ticking of the broken clocks.

We'll be lost in forever, over and over
Repeating our lives.
Memories are spilling over,
Hey, remember that time?

We met by accident,
Serendipity you could say.
I liked the way your eyes shined,
As you smiled that day.

But one problem led to another,
Nights blended into days.
What's the difference between midnight,
And the middle of the afternoon?

The clocks tick away the memories,
Tick Tick tick...

We dance across the realities,
Laugh at our lives.
We act so happily,
As our dreams are torn with time.

The clocks are ticking...
Every second is another year.
Everything was okay,
Everything began to disappear.

Hey do you remember?
Do you?
"Do I remember?
I can't say that I can..."

The clock slowly ticks, ticking, ticking, ticking...
And my memories of you begin to fade.
All I can remember is the ticking,
Our lives ticking away...
Tick tick tick...

Who are you?

The pain subsides
Slowly dying
Thorn in my side
Tears cleanse
Broken dreams
So many times
Wither within
Again
Trying to hide
Where are you now
You tarnished me
One too many times
I'll wash clean of you
This one last time

Closing in
My dreams begin
Locking me in sleep
The chains are strong
The nights are long
And the mud is all too deep

Watching the world become nothing at all,
Doing nothing, I feel so small
Captured in my own mind
My imagination has gone too far
I wonder what I will find
Who left this nightmares door ajar?

When will I wake up?
Am I dreaming after all?
When was I awake?
I don't really recall

Closing in
My dreams begin
Locking me in sleep
The chains are strong
The nights are long
And the mud is all too deep

I hear you
like the ringing in my ears
in the time
between consciousness
and dreams

fading scar tissue on my skin
feels so far from healing

aggressive breath
anxious sweat
pearls at the base of my neck

like puddles reflecting
that one lit up window
that spoke volumes
on the subject
of loneliness
and surrender

smog drifting higher
hugging the sun
in its suffocating embrace
so let the kids play
because tomorrow
the headlines could tell you
that it's finally time
to give up
give in
give away
anything
and everything you tried to save

cough like
your eroded throat
is the holy vessel
and your pain is scripture
pretend you didn't repeat
the things you pretended
to not have heard
so give me your last breath
and I give you my word
I'll never let your anguish
be remembered

so come on
and cough.