There are so many things that I want to say to you that I shouldn't.
There are even more things that I should say to you that I wouldn't.
You remind me of somebody that I used to know.
One who let me break their heart then broke mine in revenge.
I'm scared that I might do it again if you ever give me the chance.
It's why I keep my distance.
It's why I hold my silence.
I've always had trouble with letting things go.
It just means so much to me -
every word you say.
I've always been afraid of letting people in.
I'll exhaust every effort in pushing you away.

Fields of bridges burn while I'm
waiting for my turn,
and she looks into my eyes while I
hear my feelings die.
Screaming loud and wild.
I pull them down beneath the surface
to drown under my silence.
My heart is blackened tar.
My mind's a searing furnace.
Your eyes are just a canvas for my mental plants to flourish.

My mind has been cleaved open.
I'm feeling expansive.
Take me out tonight;
I feel like dancing.

Buy me a drink or two.
By the end we'll be in flight.
"I swear I'll make it up to you."
Let's feel alive tonight.

Bump and grind and jump and jive
to get lost in the moment.
The meaning of life can sit behind while instincts take up the forefront.

I do love this song so much,
and this is what I live for.
Philosophy is out to lunch when I'm out on the dance floor.

(This is the part where your theme song surges up inside your head,
and when you feel the energy hold out til you see red.
Release it all in one hot go out into that hail storm
with the passion that you've carried with you from the day that you were born.)

This poem should not be written.
These thoughts should not be thunk,
because I'm a little lost right now.
I think I might be drunk.

You're the one who hides beneath every thought that I do think.
The cause behind my highs and lows -
you're the reason why I drink.

Please leave me alone.
You haunt all of my dreams,
and turn me out until I'm coarse -
I'm splitting at the seams.

I didn't want to love you.
It was just a game.
Elaborate revenge for calling me "cute."
I underestimated the heat of your flame.

Big mistake.

Now I'm burning for you.
In the smoke, I see your name.
It repeats through my head as I writhe in bed
again, again, and again.

I used to climb onto the roof just to feel closer to the stars,
and tonight I climbed a ladder then wondered where you are.
Sleeping safe and sound in the warmth of your bed?
I wish I were your pillow,
to know the thoughts in your head.

Do you ever dream of me?
To know would be too much.
Instead, I'll climb to greater heights
and wish on stars for luck.

Is it sad that I think you may be all I've ever had?
Does it make you mad when I feel like I couldn't give two *****?
I've only ever just been living my life.
Sometimes I have a hard time of it.

Is it tragic that I know we won't make it together?
Is it sociopathic of me to mention it?
I want everything or nothing from you.
You make me feel conflicted.

In the resulting twisting mental state, I find something compelling.
I like how you press me for the answers,
though I'm not one for telling.

If you only knew the impact that you have on all my dreams.
It's the discrepancies of our feelings that makes me hold it back.
If you ever make the mistake of giving me a chance,
I swear,
I'd give you a heart attack.

Doomed to forever be concerned with the things that most won't notice - let alone take an interest in.
Fated to state the rules of a game of which most don't know they're playing - whether or not they may be winning.
Always curious.
Ever grasping.
Despairing when they realize that the quest is everlasting.
What is it that makes it thus?
Myself,
the world,
random floating motes of dust.
I'll assign them meaning just to see it fall apart
in the face of a smile.
In the face of indifference.
Caught up in a desperate attempt to recapture one's lost innocence.
A few misplaced words can turn you into just another madman scribbling on the walls.
What keeps it going?
It's the hope that someone,
somewhere,
will understand it all.

It may come to you as a shock,
but I've never held back.
Even when you were stuck on this.
Especially when you were stuck on that.

I'm not here to announce the fact
that there was something going back and forth.

I held your words in the palm of my hand;
blew on them for luck,
then spread my fingers and took a chance.

It may come to you as a surprise,
but I've never been afraid to roll the dice.
With you I always felt lucky.
I never expected to roll snake eyes.

I am no stranger to darkened rooms.
The sun may be shining
but I'm in love with the moon.
She's full of sympathy for my lonely plight.
I am no stranger to the night.

She hides behind clouds, but I'll see it through.
I wax and wane with her many moods,
and when she's full, I'm filled with hope.
She shines on me so that I don't feel so alone.

A pale shadow glows with a light from my mind.
I've seen it every morning since the day I lost mine.
It begs me to stay in this twisted Limbo.
I squirm and shake and fall out of bed.

Plagued by manifestations of the once unknown.
I've bruises on my head.
I wish they would leave me alone.

A spiraling spider descends from the ceiling.
The popcorn texture alludes to my state.
I squirm and shake and fall out of bed.
How many times have I told you to go away?

My skin crawls with phantasms of skittering speed.
I am but a tube sock of molding jelly.
I squirm and shake and fall out of bed.
I try to convince them that I'm still alive.

Smash the graphite with a head of stone.
I crashed my car into an old oak tree.
I saw a boy fly tonight.
His arms spread wide as he sailed over my hood.
I think I knew him once.

Killed the cat and ate the bird.
That egg headed demon possessed me with his words.

Break the glass with a fistful of sand.
A crumpled torn up manuscript.
Forced the square into the circle.
Cascading shards of what was once a windshield.

Squashed the brains against the base.
Chunks of bone like splintered wood.
Entered while I exit.
My body is soft served ice cream.
The flavor of Hate.

Ground up meat in a plastic bag.
My guts are a ****** firework.
Tornado of manufactured metal.

I made my escape.

Life is a joke and death is the punchline.
Don't forget to laugh.
I guess I'll remember to next time.
This one's all ******.

Life's a ***** and then you die.
If you're lucky,
there may be some people who cared about you enough to cry.
Though it won't mean much when you're no longer alive.

Life is a riddle and death is the answer.
Who asked the question?
Who gives a ****?
The universe, god, and the laws of energy can all **** a ****.

**** being alive.
No, seriously,
**** It.
I'm sick of living.
I'm so done with it.

You were so solid.
A statue in the face of a coming storm.
You saw it,
but you're not one to flinch.

You ate it whole.
A whirlwind dive down a steady eye.
Now we're lost in
the place that you call home.

Won't you spit us out?
We fell through the cracks of our many flaws.
You never doubted
what it was all about.

I'm sick of over indulgence.
I'm tired of disgrace.
Won't you give us all some leeway,
so that we may save some face.

I
Fell
For You
In Too Many Ways

I spent my days crying
while longing for escape.
You always knew the simple path was long since overgrown.
I guess I have myself to blame
for the price of being another chip on your shoulder.

I speak in metaphors,
but I feel like I've met you before.
You were what was hiding on the otherside of my door.
You were the canopy at the top of the trees;
Basking in the moonlight.
I tried to climb but I fell on the way up.
You were the branches that broke my fall.
You were the leaves in autumn;
How I tried to catch them all.
You were the one that held me tight.
You were the clouds that cloaked the moon in the middle of the night.
You were all the things that I struggled to see.
You are everything that I want to be.

I heard her laughter through a wall made up of space and time.
I swear there's something in her voice that reminds me so much of mine.
If I tell you a joke will you do me the service of granting me a smile?
It's nice to be reminded of my lost innocence once in awhile.
I'll force rhymes and recycle lines just to get a rise.
I'll speak absurd profundities to spark a twinkle in those eyes.
Her glad and simple laughter makes me want to cry.
When I'm in her presence, I feel like I could die.
You simple, silly girl.
You clever, brilliant thing.
You make me feel alive again.
You make me want to sing.

Here it is now but soon it'll be gone.
I won't lament the loss:
I'm moving on.
Everything I've ever known has come back more than twice.
It's a boomerang effect, and sometimes it's nice.
Though sometimes I do I lose myself
in wishing it would stay,
but the night has got to end at some point.
Tomorrow's a new day.

I slid down the tunnel like a morsel down a throat.
It's true what he said:
Down Here They All Float
I felt all my hair rise up in static.
I almost forgot that breathing was automatic,
and in between breaths I felt so close to death.
Suffocating as I wondered if I'd ever come back.
A sound like a freight train shook my whole frame.
A hive of cicadas roared in my brain.
It's true what they say:
This Is How It Feels To Go Insane

I am the King of Mixed Messages.
The Duke of Indecision.
The Prince of Sheer Panic facing a life sentence in prison.

I've sabotaged my subjects;
****** on the peasants.
I'll admit my reign of terror hasn't been none too pleasant.

I was the Monarch of Mayhem;
the Baron of Bones,
but some shining knight pulled a coup and now I'm left here dethroned.

Something in the way that . . .
something that was said.
I don't know if I ever knew a way to not feel dead,
but everything is swirling.
Everything at once.
I lost my mind a couple times just to rise up from the swamps.
These reeds do leave their marks.
This mud has ****** the color.
I'll sleep beneath the cypresses to feel closer to mother.
She speaks to me in dreams of things that only once were hinted.
How shall I ever get along after being so afflicted?

I used to write my dreams down
until you showed up.
Now thinking about them just hurts too **** much.

Hide in obscurity.
Cryptic visage.
Anonymous shimmer.
Arcane mirage.

Be the enigma.
Wear the unknown.
Always a question mark.
Forever alone.

Let me immerse myself in you.
We'll trade sweet nothings and believe them to be true.
I want the full experience;
don't hold anything back.
The concrete to crumble underneath the abstract.
Your pattern overlaid onto my nonbeing.
Can you glimpse the nonthings I can't believe we are seeing?
Incredible vibrations of our bodies in synch.
I want to hear every cell of your wrought body sing,
and swim in the depths of the futures to come.
Right now our two separate souls are but one.

I cried inside my car today.
I cried while I thought of the things I would say when the one that I love questions me about the one I made love to.
(I didn't want to do it. I'm crazy about you.)
"You make me feel like a little kid again."
"You make me feel like magic is real."
"It kills me that you have a boyfriend."
It kills me that this isn't real.
None of this is going to happen.
I cried inside my car today.

I swear I used to care
before I met you.
There was nothing left
after all you put me through.
They say I'm better off
but I seriously doubt it.
You stole all of my sympathy
and now I'm lost without it.

So I'm stuck with my Strange
I've learned to embrace it.
They say, "Cool your jets;
Youre acting insane."
I say so be it.
I'll love the deranged.
I'm a cracked flower vase with some spray painted lilacs in it.
Spread me out amongst the fakes and I'll vainly attempt to pollinate them.
I had to learn how to drown before I could swim.
All life changing decisions are made on a whim.
Give me a chance and I'll make you regret it.
I'll pull out all the stops so you'll never forget it.
"There once was this kid . . ."
"I once knew this man . . . "
Where is he now?
Whatever happened to him?

She told me to stay but I got lost in the echo.
Sometimes I can't help it,
I've just got to let go.
And she shined through the chasm like a sun's ray through clouds.
I always wonder what she could be up to right now.
But no, it's not me,
and loneliness stings.
Wherever you aren't is where I'll always be.

I gave her a sign.
Delivered it twice.
Her sympathy is boundless;
she was always so nice.

Hip to the trip as we both drop our objects.
Clumsiness is one way of saying I Love You.
Speech dissolved a long time ago; became an excuse for just staring.
I cannot seem to convince myself of no longer caring.

"Adore me!"
"You bore me,"
and I am not like that.
Domestic goddess take a hike;
please get off my back.

"Ignore me!"
"No problem,"
I said into the wind.
So much for happy endings;
now let the truth sink in.

When I was six I ate a fish that tasted like my future,
and presently I'm telling her that things are starting to feel unreal again.
"Shhhhhh.
Rest your twisted head."
I said she gave me this wicked vessel,
and that I hate her for it.
She said,
"I know darling.
That's why you're my favorite."

How did it happen?
I didn't even like you at first,
and now you're the first thing I think of when I wake up,
if I wasn't already dreaming of you while I slept.
When I look into your eyes I feel short of breath.

I want you the way suicidals want death.

But I cannot have you, and I resent the fact
that you somehow stole my heart and now won't give it back.
And yet, if I had you I know I wouldn't want you anymore.
I'd come to loathe you in the way that a child hates chores.
But you've melded to my mind;
you're burned into my brain.

I want you the way that a moth wants the flame.

It's a paradoxical ache.
A feeling so strange.
In the English language it doesn't even have a name,
but I believe this is what the french refer to as
the exquisite pain.

It took me a fortnight to figure out how long a fortnight is.
I'd been meaning to investigate ever since that skinny kid
who spoke in six dimensions mentioned it.
He explained it like this:
Floating spheres enveloped in a clear liquid
some clustered together, some separated from the others
each moving at a different pace
each with its own gravity
and sometimes a slew of unbound orbs will give chase
to one that goes speeding by
and sometimes two will collide, or three, or four, or more
somtimes two will spiral around each other
getting closer and closer while spinning faster and faster
until they nearly touch but then go speeding off
in opposite directions as if polarity had suddenly been reversed
sometimes two will spin together and burst
with more marbles spilling out from the eruption
some globes explode with a force of their own
taking out all that surround it
still others quietly blip out of existence
leaving behind nothing but a ripple in the clear goo
that binds them all together.
They told me he was crazy, but I thought that I knew
"You're talking about the cosmos, aren't you?"
"No," he said
then flicked his head
"I'm talking about people."

Staring back into nothing
I felt a compulsion to fall
It felt like my spirit was leaving my body
It felt like my soul was drowning
inside of myself
and I thought

If nature is heaven
then concrete is hell

In the face of
a neon ancient god
once worshipped by the indigenous
peoples of the amazon
I had a sense that He was angry with me
that I'd done something wrong
He took something from me
but I don't know what it was
and I thought

If I'm just a stack of molecules
then I'm falling apart

I pooled into my shoes
which sunk into the earth
and I thought

If I ever have to die again
then I'll pass on rebirth

When I'm falling fast, and it gets real bad;
I go through my chopped up and blended days awaiting one thing:
For someone to come up,
put their hands on my shoulders,
and shake me vigorously.

I can hear them yelling (or screaming) at me.
They're saying:
"What the hell are you doing!
What the **** is your problem!?
Why are you doing this to yourself?
It's sad and pathetic. I'm sick of it.
It makes me angry.
Just stop it!
Stop it already!"

I'll attempt to explain, through the shakes, with a ******* answer,
but they won't have any of it.

"You're fine! Okay?
There's nothing wrong with you!
There is absolutely nothing wrong with you!
You're just ******* scared!
You hear me,
tough guy?
You're a ******* coward!
Grow up.
Man up.
Just stop it already.
Enough is enough.
Just stop."

And it's like somehow, if this were to happen, I'd suddenly be fixed.
As if in the shaking,
the ***** that had come loose would get knocked back into its groove.

Except, the thing is, that this does happen.
It's happening practically the whole time.
Only, not in the exact way that you pictured it.
So you shrug it off. Dismiss it.
Because the person shaking you wasn't the one you wanted to be shaken by.
You say,
"Who the **** are they?
Who do they think they are?
To tell me off like that;
look at you!
Why would I ever consider taking advice from you.
As if you know better,
you don't know ****!
*******!"

And it's sad really,
but ultimately true.
The only person capable of doing the shaking is you.

I used to have fun
I used to take walks
I used to have something special that I feel I've since lost
But for the life of me
I couldn't tell you what it was
Youth
Vitality
Maybe a soul
Whatever happened to it
Where did it go?

and some people will, but most people won't.
I think that you might. Do you though?
I'll wish that you would.
I really do hope so.

Sometimes, when I say your name,
you wince.
(I want to force you into a corner and press up against you)
Your face in a grimace;
you cringe,
(I want to ravage you savagely)
as if you're in pain.
(I want to turn into sand and bury you alive)
(I want to take these two hands and tear you apart)
It's quite rude, really,
(I want to bite off your lips and devour your heart)
but I don't hold it against you.
It seems involuntary.
(I want to explode on you then swallow what's left)
I think there might be something wrong with you.
(I want to **** all the life right out of your breath)
More than anything though,
(I want to turn into a river and drown you in the flood)
I'd like to know
(I want to spread through your body, bones, and blood)
why.

I've been thinking:
Maybe I should get clean
and do things that I've been meaning to do for ages.
Face this wasted use of
faithless self-abuse and try something new
more in tune with truth.
Get fit and quit these substances.
Toss off these over-abundances.
Catch some calm and put a halt to this being wild.
Stop forcing laughs and faking smiles.
Make a path to find some inner-peace.
Get some rest and set this mind at ease.

Empathy is a curse,
but apathy is surely worse.
Make me feel something when I feel hollow.
Get away from me when it's too hard to swallow.

If I told you that you're perfect,
would you believe it's true?
No, of course not. I mean, maybe so,
but it wouldn't be enough for you.
Just one man's opinion;
you need global recognition
to prove that you have value.

It makes me kind of sad,
but I've never had ambition of that sort,
so if you'd like, I could help you.
We could make it work.

With your style, and grace,
(and those big brown eyes, and that beautiful face)
along with my words,
(your silk ribbon of a voice)
and my keyboard;
I swear to God we could make it work.

A partnership to stack the cards:
Aimless Asteroid and Shooting Star.
You'll always burn brighter, but I don't care.
I swear,
together we could go far.

I heard her sing a silent song.
By the time I'd learned the words,
she was already gone.

She wasn't here for very long,
but I am still haunted by her verse.
I heard her sing a silent song.

It resonated in my bones.
I vibrated with yearning.
She was already gone.

A mute melody to quell the dawn,
and keep the world from turning.
I heard her sing a silent song.

Like a whisper from the moon to hold back the sun,
I close my eyes and I’m no longer sure
if she's really gone.

Imprinted in the earth after the eclipse was done;
her lyrics washed up on the shore.
I heard her sing that silent song,
but she was already gone.

I had a dream that you were larger than life.
I slipped in through your mouth
to learn the secret of your insides.
You spat me out.
I fell.
You caught me with hands the size of clouds,
then stuck me in a cage with a yellow canary.
I had to eat the bird to stay alive.
You're a neglectful pet owner.
Now I'm  trapped here
with no company.
I long to be free.
I cannot fly;
I never sing,
but it would be alright
if you'd just look at me.

My body is a vessel
A teapot, if you will
With my spirit boiling deep inside
Drink from it if it soothes you

And if it suits you
Then wear it with pride
I bare my scars with arms wide open
To embrace you when you need it
Warm you up when you feel frozen

Because truth be told
This life can be cold
And I'm so tired of shivering
So let's wake up, and spread this love
It's a message worth delivering

Sometimes I burn with passion
It makes me cry and think I'm crazy
But it also makes me feel alive
Let's start this fire, baby

Because passion is where it's at
We'll take our freedom back
What's that? You've got a great idea?
Oh yea, let's all do that!

I will spread my opinions like a plague,
which is exactly how they'll paint them.
By "them" I mean the proverbial "they."
The ones who will color me as paranoid and insane.

They'll say not to listen;
to disregard it all.
It's the nature of the games they play.
They push us to the edge,
Then publicize the fall.

Do not watch the news.
Ignore all commercials.
Pursue beauty and truth;
embrace the controversial.

"Any book worth banning is a book worth reading,"
so read them all with zest.
If you get the feeling that I'm preaching,
remember,
only you know what is best.

I'm quite taken with you.
You're the apple of my eye.
Like a chocolate fudge sundae on a Friday night,
You're as sweet as pumpkin pie,
But my teeth are prone to cavities.
I dare not take a bite.

the notes rise up with the flames
And I smolder in the sound
Feel it shimmering
Warmth from inside out

As if we are connected
to everything around
floating with the fire
my feet have left the ground

and I burn

Play that song I want to hear
You play it oh so well
friends, and fire, and bottle near
I feel much better now

the glow will light our faces
This dark world will turn bright
Here we are for this one
We'll feel alive tonight

And I burn

I like you so much,
it's bound for disaster.
Let's pretend we're in a musical.
Take my hand, and we'll dance.
Let's start with the "Happily Ever After,"
and have a doomed romance.

I am guilty of projecting. I will turn you into a goddess
in my mind to deal with the anxiety of
the fact that you might actually like me. I will like you back,
to an extreme; to the point where it's scary,
so that you'll stay away from me.
"Oh yea, watch out for that one. He's crazy."

Vain girls are attracted to it.
They like the way I paint them in my dreams.
As if fulfilling their own of becoming some sort of
Aphrodite. They build their confidence off of my idolatry.
I've seen it go to their heads.
It makes me kind of sick.

I will use you. The fantastical female;
my muse. You inspire my more neurotically infused
writings, and give fire to my self-abuse.

A few times, I've gotten the one I desired. Always through my words.
Forced to deal with discrepancies between fantasies and the truth, I fall apart.
Invariably, they were emotionally damaged;
prone to crying. I'd give them my shoulder and wrestle with the thoughts
that I'd fallen for a girl so much like my mother.
**** you, Freud.

Now I know better, but I can't fight my nature.
So I've embraced it. Taken it to new heights. Turned it into an art form.
Mentally magnified mistress, watch this:
I will take everything you've ever said (which I cannot forget)
and reflect it back at you through my poetic psychotic lens
Freaky, is it not?

But it's also kind of fun.
If you can appreciate the irony,
then I think you might be the one.

All types of schizos are my friends
And I'm schizotypal too
We get together and share the crazy things in our heads
But care not about how much of it might be true

They may be a bit rough around the edges
But they're a good bunch
We focus on action; the things that we do
And try not to think too much

Most people find it bizarre
But most people bore me to death
We can't help it; we are what we are
All in love, obsessed, with insanity's depth

The violinist plays as the artist takes down his paintings.
Nothing sold today. His spiraling visions of figurative
meaning behind the sentimental moments that he can't forget
have failed to make an impact on the passers-by,
once again.
He drops meager change into the case
of the musician.

The human statue breaks her frozen form
to act out a five second tragedy as he
makes his way down the avenue;
free of charge.

His fanbase is of the kind that can only
sympathize. Endeared to him not through the way
he spreads his paint, but from his passionate speeches.
When he explains the reasons behind each minute element,
they can't help but to relate. How he reaches
to define every detail of what would otherwise be
just another memory.