my life is a million things or a million and one   look at this situation   words dribbling from my fingers like raindrops     I want to feast
on every piece
   you are willing to display   to roll out and reveal
     no matter how fragile
I feel my bones groan for you   but I all I have   are these syllables stationary   on a screen
the idea of something more   an improbability
we can share our language   and breakfast cereals   and our feet will rest
on the table   with the murmur of the TV     in the background   and oh my god   I am sprinting through a blizzard   as fast as I can   but I was never a good runner     my toes are almost numb   but I want want want   to experience it all
   ripples of reality   it has bypassed me
carved a pear-shaped
lump     out of me     I am ******* in string
I am oblivious   to kisses and loving   and intimacy
   the rush   the blinding delirium     I see everybody glisten   it seems so   but every person is ravaged        
   by a manic voice   flaws written high   and glowing
I try to explain   but my handwriting
indecipherable
   a blister-free   relationship   glorious silence   delicious shiver
of something like love   between us   over our shells     I am out of it   in a make-believe land
drag me to real life   and I’ll burn   like a slab of meat     before I trip
     into a lake of salty worries

Words have no meaning to me.
Their weight, their beauty, their worth,
have no value in the grand scheme of it all.
It's your actions.

We have all been lied to.
We have all said far too much, or far too little.
And it's what you do that matters.
Or in this case-

What you never did.

Big loud words,
Never heard.


-Watercolour

So, you know,
the arrow
goes halfway
and then
it goes halfway again
and again
and again
and never gets there.
So, that's obvious.
So, you could try
shooting the arrow
and it gets there.
But, that's not
so obvious,
because you might say
"Gets where?"
"I don't know where there is.".
So, somebody points
and they say
"You know. There".
But, since you don't see
anything that he's
pointing to,
you shoot the arrow
and it never gets there.
See...Easy!

if i ever write about you,
i'm sorry.

believe me,
i probably didn't do it on purpose,
but, sometimes,
things get really hard
and there's so much
compiled in my head
of all the things i didn't say,
i just need some sort of release
and that's where writing comes in.

i didn't say any of this
to your face
because confrontation is terrifying,
i avoid it at all costs
which meant i avoided you,
i was too scared
that the words
would bubble out of my throat,
floating off my lips
and find their way
to your ears
to whisper all of my worries
and thoughts