i thought summer into my heart

many sunflowers curling blonde upside down; down small
golden tears like locks of that is good chance

i will be in good chance

that is; i thump horses into my heart

they thump and they thump must be
that my heart is a beach

each horse grey waved equally curtained, elegant, shy

red veils, which reminds me: i am red
little children, which reminds me: i crown myself young

i am the heir of rays of youth
sunbathing; the heiress calms down

galloping i am ready for fields of summer

miles of summer, miles of red veils, the waves of calmness

millions of grey waves, thumping
slowly unveil themselves to be brightly, a myriad ways parting

can we build on it?
for now i have been simply purling
and stones around me green and smooth tell me
the water would have been ankle-deep
if i lifted my head out of these
ankle-deep waves i could
take a clearer guess
how i am actually feeling all accreted
to the riverbed
but can we build on it?
is this rock really steadfast because
i feel in these waters i need more stones
and build a dam to stop all of the
gushing or i might be
on the other side of the dam
slowly drowning myself while
i build

even Camus is at a loss:
"what i'm getting at is that the emptiness
should be happy i am so
sorry life is absurd in all
sorts of airplane crashes
and twin towers you'd
expect both of you to go down but
here you are i see you
shrinking without him"
and when i see you in the train cabinet my
heart knocks politely on my ribcage: Are You Okay?
No
and then i realise it wasn't you someone
had the same effect of me latching my eyes onto you wanting
to talk to you wanting to talk to you wanting to
talk to you not wanting to talk to you using
this train for other purposes, example:
How To Disappear Completely
Thom Yorke even apologised for the similarities dear
i know this makes you think of him just listen one more minute it will
hurt just enough the whole world hurts just enough doesn't everything remind you of him? even the others's lips are rough insofar as they scratch memory's fragility oh god
it comes in waves and i push my tail deeper into
the water
du bonheur et rien d'autre
write me another piece of ******* you closed
the door in my face then i put a lock on it and now
i plead i keep on standing in tall grass, tiny horses
and thumbs might **** me

the sun lightly heated my back like a soft blanket and there is another person laying with me
and draws lines from chin to hip
and is soft and sweetly licks my ear lobe in the dark
all of the wrinkles in my body are slightly softer
and i am less sharp to you
i remember a beach and a sea and myself who was standing there alone the water had gone up till my ankles
i was looking for a feeling a purpose a meaning and when the sun rose i could say yes that is it
just like how the sun rises and dives stemming from an eternal duty my brain makes the same images dutifully rise and dive
myself on the beach myself between the sheets myself and all of the waves that come over me whether they were made of water or linen
if i were to go on until all the memories were gone and
only the bad feelings remained i might as well
scoop my brain out of my skull and kick it away like a football
in my part of the universe there is only half of what could have been and not even the good part there is too much muchness
even the headlights know i cannot help it over and over again
i fall into it
and i am not really ******* we are kind of close to each other and still immersed by smoke

excuse me there is a hole in your
face through which i peaked every day
that things were always as they are now
and i wasn't even blind
i was peaking through a transparant sheet
maybe i never even saw you

Eliot remarked do you know that humankind
cannot bear very much reality. that even he was aware
a whole century ago that the one to come
would still have all of this *******
makes me think of a non-existing century
could be my new apartment
and i'll paint the walls

i'll crash into life however
childish that may sound and i'll
break my skull split
myself in half and we have
a puddle of red to practise with
i'm unsatisfied over everything

and i'll jump there's a bottle of red
in the kitchen and i poured it away and now
i regret though might have been for the best
must've turned sour by then
amongst other things i try not to think about

i like how he lives in a room full of himself
that is probably what connects him to the other
young knights
-his obsession with himself
i like how he frosted passion onto his glasses when
i gave him one lick of my sugar glazed eyes
enlarged wine gulped down ready to leave all
he sees when he looks at me anymore is how
passionate i am how passionate i am
(Red i am Sorry)
i like how i've so honestly opened up all kinds of
juice for him to drink up i like how i cry
every night
for
another knight i like how i'm caring for myself by
destroying clean fingers yellow teeth black ink white pants all sorts
of wine in fact i'm scarring myself
i think it's strange how i always have to
stretch my legs out to feel anything
hands around myself every night i'm
laying like a vessel opening myself up there
must be some link to soil, and floored, and fortress

no these spiders are not native to Belgium but
they will crawl inside my mind and make me into some
horrible monster i am always very loud you must
hear me screaming from the other side of the
nebula you are transforming all other brown-haired boys and
trust me there are a lot of brown-haired boys and they're
all you when they come close they can tell
i've betrayed myself

sometimes i wish it were true that
i live inside a renaissance painting i would
be stoic and not
overwhelm people with all of this shakespearean *******
in which no one even dares to be themselves there is
irony on so many levels of the flat i praise myself
a Professional Industrial
i deform time around me i wrap time around me
and parade through some levels some memories and
dream of others's memories and do they ever
crumble away have they ever lain parallel to mine
you are here and you are here
not i am almost transparant