Your heels always hit the ground first and years later
thats how you learned how to run
you kicked up so much dirt that
the debris from your detour clings to your lashes
cradles your eyelids
you've become a whole new kind of transparency.
glazed and spaced, tell me when your shoes became the only thing
unlaced
tell me the next shade up in opaque and I'll superimpose you if it would make the slightest difference
in your distorted disposition
you're aware of your capacity of scarred composition but you say hey,
it's better than plain vacancy, well
I want to shake the coiled novas nestled between your temples so that the air
can be polluted with something beautiful for a change, I know that love
is just a futile prescription that you're immune to
but I still pray it's something
you'll get used to
I want your antics to stride past exposed bones so maybe I can pave
a fractured thought of my own
I want your second hand smoke
to inhale
a sweet exhale
of your mind, in the shape of O's that linger from tolks
this room is white like clean coke and
stained white with clean coke and
when I swallow so much shadow that I too
become a ghost, just know that I
am only malleable
but not the only thing you're able to
control
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 4:32 PM UTC
In your metamorphosis I've found that you've been sifted straight to grounds
but to replace our A-B hits and fits and
midnight tricks followed by
cop car lights lit
is much like watering down
coffee
but I'll choose to take those sips so I take
one for the taste
one for the high
one for guilt free trips during 2nd period to the girls bathroom
and in three sips
I've fulfilled everything with innocence
but innocence doesn't leave a mark
and innocent
wasn't what you were
and being innocent can't tear down christmas lights on 53rd street at 3am for no other reason but to say we did and to say we did it together
but
who am I to disturb external forces
with my rhythmic manifestations to a personal God who only puts me in favor
when it's deserved
but is it my fault
for having tasted something that I swear only exists on some
uncharted astronomical coordinates and
is it my fault
for having tasted 1/4th cup rain water and 3/4ths cup regret
so is it my fault
for only asking for what makes the lady at the cafe counter cringe and
in your metamorphosis, I've found my own
and found it
slightly sweeter
slightly less drug induced
yet slightly less symmetrical to yours than I had hoped
and although I'll live without the hits and **** we did
just for kicks
it's hard to shed the addiction, of Americas favorite morning
fix.
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 4:17 PM UTC
You were always tablets and talk
and I was always plaid and not so talk
but June taught that things exist between us and
red strings exist between us and
awkward gestures, slurred words and tired heels
all can heal us
and boy, your name is as common to me as my own
and just alone, an open sore
you dont know
you occupy the spaces between my
flesh
and blood
and bones
naked wounds, uneasy tones
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 9:04 AM UTC
He clings to
romantic planetary ideologies
an extrahuman love external to mans vulnerable heart
external to the home that holds those hearts
he is as distorted as Mercurys liquid iron core, waning heart
shrinking at the same rate as Mercurys crust
can he not settle for a love as human as himself?
even knowing that a variable “her” is still constructed of stardust
an organic structure composed of the same planetary fragments he adores
an elucidated depiction of the universe
but one whom he is able to hold.
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 12:11 AM UTC
Jaded and faded
scorched herbs wrapped in dutch
I always liked how the water sign
preferred the taste of fire.
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 1:00 PM UTC
We both existed on the same tuesday,
in the same area of space, I expected you in your striped shirt and smile
you expected me in my whole contrasting aura and existence
but on this day we switched roles
and it was because you weren’t looking well
so I asked why
and it was because your mother was in the hospital
I didn’t want to say I was sorry. Not because I didn’t mean it, but because how could you fall in love with someone who used such cliches.
I considered settling perfume on the nape of my neck and enveloping you in a sympathetic hug.
I meditated on the words “it’s really all okay”.
I wondered what your girlfriend had to say on the matter.
and what I could say that would mean more to you.
I never thought
infatuation
could make me less of a person
than I already was.
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 10:27 PM UTC
loves grip has never frightened me
but then again
I have never been so tied down.
And not until the unwritten laws of tradition
have been cast upon you
can you experience such emotions
And when the two intertwine, twisting, combining can you see
how that grip is burning
and how tightly it is slung around your forearms
tugging and tugging
and the refusal to loosen
or break, and then once, he lets go for a breath
you make decisions
and are hauled from reality,
from tradition
hauled into the escapade
of someone else's game
and then you learn
The course you're in
never did run smooth
and you're indeed,
frightened.
Jun 23, 2011
Jun 23, 2011 at 7:18 PM UTC