seeing the same colors, not
all about interpretation but perspective

overanalyzed ice cream breaks down into glucose

overanalyzed puppies break down into proteins

only overanalyzed love continues
to defy all constraints, eluding
mental grasp as easily as an eel
in a bathtub, sought by a spoon

they read between the lines,
but they'll never understand what goes on beneath the ink.
they won't see how every word i write somehow
transfigures itself into the letters of your name.
it reminds me of how you used your lips to trace
the pattern of your initials on my skin
and how you were always so afraid of letting go of the past.
they'll overthink this as if it's a metaphor for something
of a deeper meaning, but i've never truly understood it myself.
i'm still trying to comprehend why you left without any warning
or why you threw me away as swiftly as you picked me up,
but i'm beginning to think
*there is no underlying message.

skyward certified ledgers keep track of all the godly, gritty details we can’t bring ourselves to believe. just throw some words together and make it count. the dust between our fingernails flavors the few crumbs we have left with the taste of a world that turned it’s back on us. honestly, the real apocalypse is just simply going through the motions. only we’re not as important as i’m making us out to be. sometimes (mostly on nights where the cold infiltrates your bones like an incurable disease and the rain is hitting the roof so hard you think that maybe this time it all will just finally come crashing down) it feels like we were designed for eachother. excuse the sentiment, i know it’s not me. i still picture you in the under-renovation-library thumbing through indexes for facts or truths, or maybe even just a semblance of hope. but that’s just the kind of punch drunk love ******* that keeps me ticking. my smiles come and go with the knowledge that you collect expired medicine and listen to mp3s of seismic waves from beneath the earth’s surface. you’re that special kind of weird that only makes sense in the way you can’t even play a game of monopoly without falling apart. a true rivalry is the greatest form of love. i’m stuck somewhere in between holding on to a grudge. you’re at my throat, i’m in your head. i swear i’m trying to regulate my sleeping patterns again. but the autocorrect on tumblr tried to change “mp3s” to “mumps” so where does your allegiance really stand? melatonin nod. glasses smudged. overedited and overanalyzed. linking words is the slurred speech of typing. or something like that.

Do not fall in love with me
I will turn every empty second into a overanalyzed thought
I will fill the spaces between our heartbeats with lovesongs emitted from my fingertips
I will make your words into poetry
Recite them over and over until they are tattooed on your skin
I will make your lips a sacred temple and send my prayers through kisses
Your body will become my garden where i will plant myself roots up
Intertwine my vines with yours
I will call you the sun
Your breath will become my air and I will use you to photosynthesize
I will forget that I am not a tree
And you are not my forest
I will forget that we are only human
So do not fall in love with me
Unless you are willing
To love the details.

sooner or later you'll find out your thoughts are a sin:

                        drugged and lugged through the halls you're living in
                        until you've accepted their embracing concepts
                        and their defacing analysis of your character; you're dead.
                        their pale, fluorescent lights hum in your head
                        and clean out the cobwebs that you've let build up
                        until you've been completely cleansed of your transgressions
                        and until you've figured out life's not about progression.

sooner or later you'll find out you're life's been overanalyzed:

                        created for the sake of boredom and then criticized
                        by yourself, your peers, and the people who you never knew;
                        they'd never known, not even yourself, but you guessed.
                        there was no reason to make an estimate, you're blessed
                        through your admission of self, sanctity, and painful denial
                        of the truths they'd tried to make you disbelieve;
                        now you're ready, you're certain, and soon, you'll be freed.

The pervasive silence fills my ears, the resonance of it inundates me. I speculate what you’re thinking about, why you are now drifting into nothingness, why we are now on the precipice of nothingness. Maybe I revealed too much, perhaps I shouldn’t have told you that you are what I want, that you will always be what I want...that this will never change. My feelings for you are constant, they never waver. They bubble over into hysteria, into rash thoughts, into frantically telling you these things. Things that make your lips still. My lips are still too. They are meant to kiss you with, my dear. They are meant to break the absolute fragility of this silence, the glass house that we currently inhabit. Words right now would be like stones, carelessly thrown. I am living in the reality I have created in my mind. I do not know what to accept as fact or fantasy, for your silence deafens me,  your silence stops me from being able to rationalize my own reality. For I will never know what gears are shifting in your machine of a mind. For I will never know whether this silence is meaningful to you, whether you know the speed at which my spry thoughts are sailing. You could be thinking about how unreal the sun feels on your back after the months of winter we have endured. You could not be thinking about me. Or maybe you want to admit to me that we occupy the same reality, you and I...Or maybe you’re plotting your inescapable escape. This silence will be misconstrued in infinite ways, overanalyzed, thought about incessantly until my mind becomes overcome with you. Until my mind tires of you. Until I force you away from me. Until my feelings are fleeting, and you wonder what I am thinking when I thoughtlessly wander away from you, abandon you...leaving you standing there with your own thoughts, your own mind. Your own reality.

No poems care to comfort me
No words are willing to clear my head
No thoughts come flowing from my pen
No dreams will deign to share my bed

I used to sleep with company
To doze with dainty desires
But now it seems my mind rejects
Those floating, smiling sires
Instead my head’s been filled with fluff
With engineered tomfoolery
No longer can I find my thoughts
Amidst this heavy schoolery

My florid fancies and swooning sighs
Have decomposed under scrutiny
And inspiration has been so choked
That is has no will for mutiny

I’ve calculated, demonstrated
Extrapolated and oxidized
So now I’ve found that feelings too
Have fallen overanalyzed
It feels surreal, to sit with you
While my mind sits far away
The distance slows my synapses
And causes heart delay

Thoughts, I’ve found, have been rewired
Connected where they shouldn’t be
So silly things cause tears to spring
And trivial words to bother me

I wish my poems would return
To put my mind where it belongs
To weave my dreams so I might sleep
To erase for you my careless wrongs
I wish my words would scamper back
And put my tangled thoughts to rights
My feelings, too, so I might breathe
And finally make peace with restless nights

So easily your secrets slipped through you perfectly crooked smile
And as I sat there in silence, I overanalyzed your body language that seemed to be so endless
From yells that ate through me like a rabid dog with an afternoon delight,
To tears that that cut me open like my morning razor bite.
I was so careful not to frighten you, never wanting you to hesitate with a comment or explanation.
And like a slowly, built up, disastrous tornado you unfolded with a power too strong for me to ever grasp.
You will never understand silly boy, that you and I are just part of a cycle.
We are pieces of the puzzle that just haven’t been attempted to fit together,
Well…
We have
But I just don’t seem to have smooth enough edges.
It’s these dam walls that live in my head, they have come out to play
and surround me every single day.
You don’t see these walls, no, you’ve dug under them.
You’re like an insect now, in my skin.
Never able to get rid of…
And always reminding me I’m never alone.
But,
You will be her butterfly.
Gliding through her life so naturally.
Never having to dig, or poke, or pinch.
Loving her will be so natural.
And as for me,
My insect you will forever be.

“Come on, get up.” There are days when I do not leave my bed. It is not taking a stand, not a hipster statement, it is exhaustion. I’ve spent the night dancing with dreams of ending my survival. Surviving the night was a fight in itself, I am not ready to do battle with my demons all day.
2. “Don’t call me after nine.” I won’t call you. I won’t call you when I have a gun pressed to my chest. I will keep my phone in my hand with your number typed in it at 2 am but I will never call, no matter how bad things get. I will tell myself that it is not a big enough problem to bother you with.
3. “Stop apologizing” Each move I make is overanalyzed like I am playing a game of chess. I am afraid every carefully planned move will end a friendship, end my life. I do not want to leave this world suffocated in regrets, and I am sorry if my saying sorry is too inconvenient for you. To me, an apology is one less tie keeping me here.
4. “You’re life cannot be that bad” Yes, the grass may be greener on my side of the fence but last time I checked life wasn’t a competition on whose existence was plagued with the most tragedies. Tell me what the point system is for each disaster life has thrown at me, I will turn each list in at the end of the month. Tell me where I stand.
5. “No one cares about your problems” You’re right. I’m sorry.
6. “People won’t want to be around you if you aren’t happy.” I didn’t realize my life was a play I had to memorize the lines for. I will get right on that.
7. “Pretend” I will put on my best mask. I will change my inflection. Not even my best friend will know when I am hurting.
8. “Happiness is a choice.” I can choose to smile even as my world collapses around me, but even if I were frowning the context wouldn’t change. I am still destined to fall in the rubble.
9. “It’ll be okay” Though this may seem like a comforting proclamation I don’t exactly remember the last day I was “okay.” Okay seems like another label slapped on the same ****.
10. “Just do it then” Fine.

adore galore
a bounty of beauty bounces blissfully about fields of budding wandering wonders

wistful waking dreams are the places to be, y'see... imagine being free - imagine being free...

tree climbing is much more than a past time activity, it is a livelihood
it isn't 'what if I should?'
it's all good it's all good

bent bright distortions of self parodies are overanalyzed and indistinguishable from nonfiction, a sarcasm fostered past the point of pointlessness

silly ironic discrepancies spiral inward to vast void fluidity tie a knot and listen to it melt under the microscope

sizzle sun ray beam of light sends me sniffing around in surround sound you're a stinky hologram come find me singin'

whew! I love yew
I love yew!

Every interaction I have plays on repeat in my head
I can’t stop it
It just loops
I think about what I said
And what they said
Until it’s so overanalyzed
That no meaning can be drawn from it

His emerald eyes,
hypnotized,
overanalyzed,
told the boldest lies,
loud as a lion’s cry,
watching chivalry die,
still offering attempts, tries,
to stay alive,
the groans and sighs,
over severed ties,
said otherwise,
only overdramatized,
and swiftly capsized,
in passtime highs,
so it’s always, “See you later”,
never goodbye.

Listen to me
Hear the echo of a whispery voice
The resonating of a breathless rasp
The song strangled and overanalyzed to death
Listen to the stillness and coldness of my slow-moving blood
The souls I trapped,
The one I lack,
The shadows of their shaking vocal chords
Pleading for release
An entreaty long ignored
The crying, yowling, screeching, wailing, begging of man
Lost under the reverberating vibrations of eleven bells

the familiar feeling of bile rising
from the pits of my stomach
all the way up up up

now at the bottom of my throat

-- i am basically gargling it now

some thoughts and fears never leave
my mind needlessly conjuring up
paranoid scenarios repeatedly

my imagination never failing me

that familiar choking feeling
closing my air passage
and hands shaking
inhaling and exhaling deeply

a panic attack overtaking me
black spots on my vision now
i try to forget the caricatures
drawn in my imagination

heart still racing, flecks on the
sides of my eyes, throat feeling torn

that familiar feeling of helplessness
solitude, loneliness, sadness,
righteous fury, despair, alone,
alone, alone, alone, alone

-- no one around

my walls are whispering,
my memories are ripped apart
every relationship, conversation
overanalyzed, brought to the forefront
of my mind's eye and every worst-case

brought up and the walls that
once seemed sturdy enough to hold
out against the world in my isolation
don't feel thick away anymore

my dreams, miles away, seem like the
worthless struggles of a coward
who can only run away, helpless
clueless child in some adult body

has not read the book everyone
in the room already read-  left
without pretense and a mask

cannot read the cues, hardly
knows when to move on and no good
at drawing lines or forgetting

my heart is pounding, numbness
falls over-- everyone leave,
leave, leave, leave, leave

gazed upon the grand recite
on her noble stage
her kitchen floor

and you were full to the brim
with passion and effort
lo, you really tried to impress
impress everyone to think
you are worthy of an audience

and the three of us clapped
your ideas did strike
but after three beers and a few moments
your aglio e olio impressed us better

and i stayed for the afterparty
a guttered you in a cold warm couch

and you were too tired to impress
but nontheless you spoke
of fictions and literatures
and your very own life

and made it so
i couldn't tell
which was which
did you really live a life
of magic and splendor
in far off lands
with far off people

i am not the brightest
i am simple
i cheer when something is loud

but i digest
the simple things
to get from them
the nutrition
overanalyzed
nutrition

i liked it
when you said
you were going to change the world

i liked it better
when you said
i think the pasta's too spicy

i learned to love
another drunken poet
through a babbled prose

well, maybe i'm just lazy
to appreciate your effort
or tired
or drunk

but either way
i like you better

without the stanzas

The sand
they let blow back to the sea
eventually
was once a sculpture
a mandala and
a brick to an Atlantean home
How could you just let it all go?
I feel much different
than I once did
and the scenery and cast
has changed
but for the parts that got stale
the dynamics are gone
I can only sing in double pianissimo
The reverberations of good times
bounce around my bedroom walls
nights and mornings before I forget
the broken wish fulfillment dreams
I'm clinging to past lives while
forgetting the flames I fought
I'm done being what I think I ought
from all the fictions wrought
I'm about what I am
no imperfect influences unexamined
I'm me, I'm you
I'm god, I'm my ma and pa
I'm the pub floor stone that
built this town and slapped me around
I understand me by knowing you
don't waste your time
knowing me no more
The caterpillar that overanalyzed
his life never got in that chrysalis
to learn to fly

Hey, I know it's been a long time
But have you ever wondered
Where we could have been
If the things we've done never happened
If the path that drove us apart
Never opened up
Would there have been an us
How would that have looked
Where would we grow
Because I know every home
Needs a garden to grow in
Would everything I ever wanted
Came true with you as the sculptor
Would you have all your dreams
Been set in stone by my hands
I've overanalyzed my past
The possibilities that never saw light
Sorrow fills my soul
Because I see the greatness
That could have been
So I write what I said then
That altered our reality
To a future that is our present
Two sides of opposite coins
Of opposing currency
Yet the needs of my heart
Compel me to still say it
I love you
Not once have I ever stopped
Yet I've started to dislike it
The questions I know the answers to
Even the ones I hate to ask myself
When those are the ones
With endless outcomes
I hate to admit it
But I only see one outcome anymore
Me growing old
Loving a woman
That will never be mine
Giving and receiving affection
To others I won't care for nearly as much
So do I write these hopes off
Pass thru life
Under the radar
And void of attention
Could it really be
I've become weary of emotions
Aching from all the breaks
Thinking each time could be the last
Knowing in my gut
There will be no such thing
I didn't mean to bother you
I was just wondering
Did you do the same
Have the same thoughts
Or maybe I was alone in that
I know the feelings
You may have once had
Are colder than ice
At the bottom of a glacier
But I've been wrong before
And that's a comforting feeling
Because it's something I'm not used to
So without holding you
Any further than intended
I wanted to tell you
One more time
Before I never got the chance
Or even the courage to again
Sincerely yours

I enjoy my writing so I must be a thinker.. poetry is my compulsive passion.. it’s got me hook line and sinker!!

No sooner have I finished a creativity..then another thought is amidst my mindfulness in readiness  for me..so I think, rhyme in pen ..over and over again.. as I am lost in my own bubble betwixt that overanalyzed brain

But poetry is a pleasurable passtime..it pleases  me no end and keeps the cogs well oiled in my noggin from going around the bend.. but it is just as well I found this happy hobby only recently without a doubt.. coz if I had written verses all of my life.. then my fingers would be worn out!!!