My dress appeared vulnerable
tangled between flowers and weeds
beside tangled legs
below a tangled mind,
trapped between fate
and heart strings
fragile enough to snap
with each passing gasp
and rushed breath.
Your hands held blood
as it poured from my pores
that never had a chance to clot
between my severed veins and skin.
Exploring my body like a map as
uncharted as the universe;
held down by gravity
pulling me toward something deeper then skin.
Encased within walls of bone
cracked ribs
chapped lips
and a fondness as shaken
as your bed on Friday night.
And I know you don't love me
and you're too stubborn to try
so toss me my heart strings and untangle our legs;
I'd rather wear my dress in solitude
then be left on your clothes line to air dry
for all to see.

We had recovering drug addicts come in
Talking to us with their sunken
Ashy eyes
And sweaty palms
You could tell they were nervous by the
Way they carried themselves
Cinder blocks and
Broken piano parts
And their pasts
All clinging to them,
For life support
They talked about how easy
It was to let gravity eat you alive
As you are falling into a black pit
You can’t stop the falling
Their wings were bound to
Pseudo lovers who
Gave them bruised arms
And blue fingers.
If you are lucky enough to
Escape the clenched hands of
Addiction,
The rest of your life will
Be a walking tightrope act
Trapeze dancers
One slip and you are falling
Even faster
Harder than before.
And your family, friends,
Everyone you have ever known is
In the audience watching you
Fall into your premature grave
And there is nothing they can do
But tell you to fly
But you cant
Because you just love your
Mistress too much
To ever let her go.
And they warned us about
How hard it might be to say no
To not let the circus come into
Town, but if you do
Only you can pack up the
Lions, clowns,
Colorful balloons.
Someone asked them if they
Believe drugs should be legalized
And he responded with
If I walk into a gas station
And see drugs for sale I will
Not be able to hold myself
Upright.
But I also do not want a government
Establishment to tell me what I can
And cannot ingest into my body,
So I don’t know.
Newton’s First Law of Motion
States that something will keep moving
Unless some force acts upon it.
And once you start drugs
Or gambling
Or skipping meals
it will progressively
Worsen in time.
Festering in bloodstreams
Until you decide to stop it.

If you could look into my mind,
If you’d dare to voyage past
Phenomenon already defined,
Then you’d discover a place like no other.
It is a theater of dreams.
Filled with the good and the bad,
The cheerful and the sad
Stories of sin and wishful thinking.
It is an ever expanding entity
With ever increasing entropy
That could rival the soundless sea.
So all you’d have to do
Is peer into the night as I do,
And slowly you will see
That my mind is a place of fickle gravity
Dotted by notions of unquantifiable quantity.
It is one plagued by blinding solar flares
Making it impossible to choose truth
Rather than take the dare.
Governed by its own laws
This multiversal mind can’t explain
How I resist the alluring kiss of insanity.
Now can you see? I cannot profess
Why my thoughts gravitate the way they do.
I cannot explain how that magnetic pull
Finds the same sun in this great expanse.
All I can do is confess that I’m thinking of you.

the world spins slowly quickly
       around me
gravity holds me
but he's getting tired
and lonely

this isn't a love song
no, not in the slightest
this is i hate you
and i can't wait to
see you burn
                  
                                                         define isolation


tiny particles of dust
reflect the light
and float so beautifully
between you        and i
and this old diner booth

i'd like you to call me at
2 in the morning
whispering down the line
that you've finally decided
to let me in

                              je suis complet

                                                          define beauty


i want to lay down and die
on your perfectly manicured
front lawn
i want it to be the perfect
fuck you
that i could've screamed
4 years ago


                                                        define bbbrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrfffffffff jjjjjjjj   ksl;

Sun is brightest in the day
when her eyes don't shine
gets darker and grey
because shes not mine
she tries but doesn't understand the
gravity she holds
smile across her lips
corrupts a mans soul

Oh but the way she loved
Oh but the way she loved

She's getting her way whether she wants it or not
Making men weak with the pout of her lips
Shes just the way she wants to be

Oh the way she loved
Oh the way she loved

She loved me more than could be said
Wrecked my heart without intent
Lying here mostly dead
Craving what I had and what another
Man now gets
She can't
She can't
Not like she did with me
Oh how she loved me

I'm so awake
I'm buzzing
New faces
New information
To conquer
All pit stops on my long journey
Getting sucked up into these times
Getting caught up in gravity
But I keep pushing
I talk about reliance when I write
all the time
Because it never ceases
to bewilder me
We don't acknowledge
our resilience
Because we aren't granted a choice
Of possessing it or not
You see
We
have
to keep going
Or kill ourselves and
As bad as it gets
We don't do that

Maybe
Our resilience
stems off love
No matter how small
Like how you don't take all those pills simply because you imagine how it would destroy your mom dad and sisters
That love for them makes you
stick it out through your fiery hell
Sometimes life feels like hell
Or death even
though most of us don't actually know how that feels
Other times it feels like a cloudy dream
And we trek through it all
We have no choice
Well right now I'm buzzing
From the speed
I can feel it
I feel older
I feel older
Tell me when it will stop feeling so weird

I'm so awake
I'm buzzing
New faces
New information
To conquer
All pit stops on my long journey
Getting sucked up into these times
Getting caught up in gravity
But I keep pushing
I talk about reliance when I write
all the time
Because it never ceases
to bewilder me
We don't acknowledge
our resilience
Because we aren't granted a choice
Of possessing it or not
You see
We
have
to keep going
Or kill ourselves and
As bad as it gets
We don't do that

Maybe
Our resilience
stems off love
No matter how small
Like how you don't take all those pills simply because you imagine how it would destroy your mom dad and sisters
That love for them makes you
stick it out through your fiery hell
Sometimes life feels like hell
Or death even
though most of us don't actually know how that feels
Other times it feels like a cloudy dream
And we trek through it all
We have no choice
Well right now I'm buzzing
From the speed
I can feel it
I feel older
I feel older
Tell me when it will stop feeling so weird

Sometimes if you stand really still you can see we're all losing our grip on the world.
death by death
see where the line between human and ghost begins; human flesh turns into dead ice cold skin.
cut by cut
see when they become so light that gravity cannot hold them down.
earth to earth
and they drift away, weightness since they have no hope to weigh them down.
dust to dust

There's nothing more frightening or exciting than exodus
The way ships are wooed by waves,
under the pretense of more promising continents.

I can see where countless hands have pulled at my shoelaces and wrapped
my arches in ribbons of origami
So I guess I'm kind of deadset on walking for a while.
It's been a long day of finding breathing space between double-knots and bending
broken fingernails back into place;
the self-constructed chaotic embrace of something supposedly so
straight as string brings forth beckoning ghosts of
those figure-eight souls who laid themselves
horizontal
to waste their Sundays tracing the Hills
on the breath fogged side of some painted-shut window sill;
trading the promise of Infinity for the Religion of Monotony.
Praying through agoraphobic day-dreams
raining across the night sky of their eye lids
with the brilliance of meteorites,
imagining how earth-shattering they could be
if only these tyrannosauruses would just look up.

I have come here
--abandoned the comfort of the quaint, suburban
ruins of the American Dream, which buckled
like widows knees mid frail-voiced eulogy
mourning the death of their Salesman--
and wandered aimlessly into the improvisation of some story-book jungle,
wishing I was better rehearsed.

I have come here
to congregate with the snakes and beasts; to feast beneath
the din of carnal sin and primal instincts. I've chosen to begin jumping
from stump-to-stump like stepping headstones
in a graveyard of fallen trees, where men
                     who grew up too quickly and forgot the importance of fictional stories,
                     who learned too early how black-market trade
                              the need to imagine for something a little more
                                                      tangib­­le,
                    who smile through serrated teeth,
saw it fit to clear this wilderness for something a little more
domesticated.

Until I found where brambles grew too thick:
for every split their metal tongues would lick
into the trees' skin, a gallimaufry of
vines and branches and roots
would erupt in confused medley,
and their finest mathematics couldn't begin to calculate
the thriving division of a place so un-governed by logic.

I have come here
to this long forgotten storybook jungle to remember
how to reign without rules like a thunderstorm
                    who, desperate reach down and share something with the sea,
                    Cares not for the weight of gravity.

I'll band together with these untamed brutes
--these feral barbarians and unbroken monstrosities--
to howl at the moon with the effervescence of a Ginsberg poem.
We'll forge a tinsel-town crown and take turns
playing king of Where the Wild Things Are found.

Because unlike concrete cities
The Wild of Atavism has never forgotten that
Tradition is a catalyst of change
and that nothing is permanent.
I've been having laughing contests with a mountain
because every now-and-again he will crack
A smile, and when a mountain laughs
He does so so gutturally
From deep within his catacomb chest that
the whole Earth quakes -- everything changes--
And I've sort of got my heart set
On being a part of something so significant.

So trust me when I say,
I know the feeling of being
shipwrecked and mapless,
but keep your shoelaces strapped tight
and run off the infinity of double knots.
If you go looking for me, continue
Past the paint chips, through
The open window;
Set your sights to the far treelines.
Don't strain yourself listening for
the laughter of mountains,
Because when that stoic disposition
Finally does crack, you'll feel it in your feet...
No matter where you are.
And from the way his ridges are crumbling,
I think I've almost got him beat.