she's teetering on her own brathern image, her own contradicting existence. sitting, half-smiling, chewing on her sweet cigar who's tendrils of smoke are fully about you,
although, you could bet your last dime she'd never tell you
you don't quite know where she came from or wheres she going, she hasn't a clue either, she motions to her past with her eyes. you don't ask, you don't want to. drawn out, the color of polluted
icicles, the color of last winter when you forgot your promises. the room is silent, comfortable silence.
plywood paneled walls are stained with a raw throb of life
as if
as if
she wasn't so pessimistic about her love & the lack of it, no
the plot won't twist and yes love is lost, again
saddening? possibly, but frequent, similar to the way that she couldn't stomach a goodbye from him sometimes, to the point that she'd never say, to
the point where she'd break down in the front seat of his car on a thursday night screaming things weren't supposed to be this way.
she wants to know what runs through his mind when she's
talking circles and acting
heartless as always, but maybe she doesn't, maybe she liked the questions, it put her to sleep at night
she liked trial and error, mostly because every prediction of error was right, the ****** case
mystery, leaving without a single charge pressed or
a single trace left
she liked how love could transform from the fantasized fragment of a
slow form of magic to the painted tunnel on every wall
she keeps colliding,
her heart beat still falls
short every time she utters his name,
like the reminisce of a supernova,
in all the oddest of ways

Us and all our lonely ghosts
shells, empty,
trying to fill the gaps in
with lover's flesh and ink.
Whiskey to warm our ribs,
seal us air-tight,
and drown the monsters
we can't write out of us.
Suffocate the **** things
before they learn how to swim.
Haunted, but not horrified,
we've seen ashes before.
We only wait for the March winds
to blow them away
and light
just
one
     last
          spark.

My analytic mind
can not define
that which is truly you.

You may take my body
break down the parts
weld them back together
but you will never find me.

I am an engine
of ever-burning fuel
I am a howling wind
unseen and out of reach.

I was not created
by any understanding on earth
and thus can not be destroyed
by anything we know.

I am finite and infinite
vulnerable and invincible
I can only be touched
by soft hands and sharp nails
of love.

A- A part of you know that you are special
B- Because you know the part of you is in there somewhere
C- Clueless, disgraceful, and obedient
D- Depressed over the bad things
E- Everybody has their own feelings
F- Farewell to all the people who are unkind
G- Graceful sometimes you want to be nice
H- Healthy brushing your teeth, kids say no vegetables for dinner
I- I see you all the being good sometimes
J- Just be yourself
K- Kindness to others always
L- Love always have love for others
M- Mind always, expand it, if you don’t use it you lose it
N- Never say never
O- Orange that little container of medication
P- Punctual, don’t be late
Q- Quiet don’t be loud
R- Respectful, respect your elders
S- Smartness, use your head
T- Textbook, that little book in your desk
U- Be Useful, help
V- Venture the world one day
W- Wannabe the person in math class who’s taking your boyfriend
X- Xmas, Christmas, the presents
Y- Yard, no better place to play
Z- Zero, Nada

Differing perceptions, we divide.
We stumble through the numerous next rhetorical back-hands;
with magnetizing animosity, once again we collide.

Flame on flame, the heat of your tone burns me
because you're so unfortunately locked dead inside
and in I, you've discovered a key.

Toes occasionally submerged between the small bubbles, reflecting off the moon above the sand.
I walk the end of the map, where the ocean pours off to oblivion, your heart clasped within my hand.

I paddle out into the rapids, my last woven strengths carry me
tirelessly overdue, with courage & trial
I return the dead-mans chest to the sea.