<~>

~for Andrew Garfield~


how they march!

with studied
practiced
cadence

a riddle:

how many Angels,
in America,
can stand on the
head of a pin?

legions

dressed in wine
stained colored uniforms,
how they advance!

with studied
practiced
damning
randomness

how many?

lesions.


<•>

4/26/18
1:30am

Dear You,
My mind is white, almost like a blank canvas waiting for one to paint such art on it. I do not know how to think, what to say, or how to even breathe. I've noticed the harshness of life pass directly through me and my blank reaction almost as if it was nothing, almost as if i've never been hurt.
This isn't a poem, but a letter to my parents telling them that yes i might be young but i know the feeling of numb, yes i might be young but i know what the want feels like when all you want to do is drown your sorrows in a drink, a smoke, a person.
This isn't a poem, but a letter to my family, telling them that what i've taken interest in, isn't wrong. This is not something that i've just learned from television or the thin air, this is my heart and the way i feel, i've figured i can love him the same way i could love her, forgetting their different looks and parts, they both work the same so why can't i love and treat them the same?
This isn't a poem but a letter to my first love saying that i know what intentions i have and i know the tender heart that lies inside of me for you. I know that you may not believe me or ever see me with you again but the love that i feel for you remain in every word i've written to you because only when i write, my real feelings come out.
This isn't a poem but a letter to my mind saying that it's okay to overthink but it's never okay to forget to breathe. You can't live without the adventures and the love you earned. You can't live without fights and hate, you can't live without crying and breaking. This all makes you, you. So why change it?
This is not a poem but a letter to my heart saying why are you acting as if you don't care? too afraid to come out of the shadows, too afraid to be hurt. Why are you acting as if you can't love and as if you cannot change the world and follow those dreams that move behind your closed lids.
This is a letter to them asking why worry about who to love so young? why not wait till it comes? and once it goes, why do you break? hurting and acting as if you won't make it today.
This is a letter to society wondering why do we have to fit a certain image to be beautiful? why shouldn't love win and hate die deep within? why shouldn't one race be the same as the other? and why when we try to change the world, to change the ways of life, we die?
This isn't a poem but a letter, a letter to you and your heart and mind. A letter to everyone who's thinks as they lie, their cries drifting off into the night.
This is a letter from someone full of hope and change.
--
Sincerely, Dom.

Yeah, I agree with you,
So why you got to yell?
Yeah, I said your right,
What else can I do?
You just wanna fight!
Oh whatever, what the hell?
Did you just say we're through?
That's fine I'll walk that line!
No, plz believe I can walk,
Yeah, there's no reason to
reasonably talk,
Here's your ring,
Your castle is all your's my king!

Now halfway to the road,
You take me into hold?
Hold up, this is enough!
I'm tired of this ****,
Tomorrow you'll apologize & say it was because you were lit!
Happens every time, getting tired
of this same rhyme,
Go ahead & just **** me this time,
Keep choking me until I'm past passed out!
Do what you're always bragging about!

Great just what I thought,
I'm still going to wake up,
like the morning afterthought!

The bed breathed deeply.
The furnitures covered with
your luminescent fingerprints.
The silverware died slowly,
in the grey sink.
The house tried to talk to me/

I was afraid to step out,
Outside the sympathy of my house.
Into the streets spilled with
people of your asymmetric eyes
My house tried to talk to me.

I now have nobody left to lose,
As I lay on the carpet with a sense of sooth,
The chandelier finally sang its vocal cord loose,
The wires looped instinctively like prehistoric noose.
My house tried to talk to me.

Then I know I am not alone,
The house teems with your pulse,
The glass splits from echo of your voice.
The house tells me so.

I broke through the door,
torn away from the umbilical cord of my solitude.
Melted through the heat of the cheering multitude.
My house tells me, taking care of each word.

My house tells me,
I am not alone,
And you will always
be with me in spirit only.

here we are
on this crazy ride
an end fast approaching
and i don't want to get off
but eventually
i'll have to feel solid ground
and i've always been afraid of heights
but you are worth falling for
you are something i'll never forget
i'll never regret
you are worth every second
an adrenaline rush
and a safety harness
all at once
and i wish we had
endless time
and our thrills
weren't so hopeless

s.s

When it was good
It was The Best
But
It was bad, too
I can't deal with bad
When it's coming from
Any boy
Even That Boy