I made a mistake when I proposed to miss Opaque.
I thought I'd seen her true colors, but I was staring at paint.
She adds more layers with each passing day.
An ever-changing masterpiece.
I admit,
I was infatuated with the constant shift of her landscape,
but I know now-
found out too late -
that underneath it all she's just a blank.

I wish they had an app where you could record yourself making vague responses like:
Oh yea?
Mhmm.
Really?
Uh huh.
No kidding.

And then could answer a phone call with said app, which would play all of these pre-recorded responses intermittenly while the person on the other line blabs a bunch of ******* drunken nonsense to someone who they believe is listening.

Let your shining beacon lead me to this foreign shore;
the sands are unfamiliar, but I know I've been here before.
I can recall the curves of this roof as if they were the ceiling to the heights of my own dreams,
with the layout of rooms teasing the deepest parts of my memory.
I've this thing for remembering details -
shapes and scents in particular.
Struck dumb in the shower as a long since past scene takes hold of me;
picking blueberries in the sun.
Playing on the swing set that still yet stands,
as if some ancient monument in a half-forsaken land.
We've both grown a bit rusty.
The chains creak from the strain of my weight,
but nothing ever truly gets forgotten:
I have before and always will belong in this place.

Your number is
the one most often deleted,
usually after some late night greeting.
Please don't reply.
I don't want this misery to keep on repeating.

It'd be easier if I never had to see you again.
I've never had so much trouble with keeping a friend.
When burning a bridge is no longer an option,
I tend to lose my ****.

You're so ******* lovely -
I can hardly deal with it.

If you're not the saint that I paint you out to be,
then do me the favor of not telling me.

You represent pristine purity.
Don't give me a reason to doubt.
When I looked into your eyes that evening,
I knew what you were about.

I dread the loss of your innocence,
but I know it's bound to be.
They say that if you love something completely then you should set it free.

But *******, I admit, you're the most lovely thing I've ever seen.
I'll always resent the fact that I wasn't the one to give you wings.

"I KILLED IT!" she screamed,
then spilled her drink on my dreams.
Her dress, I mean.
It's what I meant to say.

"You know,
some bleach will clean that right away."
What a mess.
We must have fell three times that night.

I don't mind concrete so much,
so long as it's underfoot and not in my gut.

She sang that song all wrong,
but it's okay.
It felt right.

There goes dinner.
There goes lunch.
There goes breakfast,
and forget about brunch.

(My diet is absurd.
One can't survive on just words.)

Nevermind health.
Nevermind peace.
I forgot how to eat.
I'm just feeding off sleep.

I miss getting high with my friends,
and just people-watching.

When you were around, somehow,
you made everything seem more magical.
I haven't thought about you in such a long while,
(if you don't count going white whenever your name is mentioned,)
but if you still read these, then I hope,
at least,
that this one makes you smile.

Between each and every line.
Feelings can build monuments,
as they can be our own demise.

Though I can find and buy the perfect glass to fit my fingers while I relish in the past regrets that linger in a shape that's vague enough to haunt me for the rest of my days,
I still can't help but wonder if all of it was just a vain attempt at trying to live a life that's been prescribed.
I mean, in the commercially acceptable sense.
I mean, in the romantically cinematic glimpse of what romance is supposed to be.

You know, heavy breathing and sepia tones.

What is it about hearing people having *** in an adjacent room that makes me feel at the same time both incredibly alive and also incredibly alone?

I felt the switch engage,
and wondered why you couldn't do the same for me.
This car can go 140 babe, and it ain't got no roll-cage.
If only women could respond as quickly as machines.
Just put the pedal to the metal sweetheart,
so hang on to your seat.
I gave you a baby.
I bought you a ring.
I told you that I love you.
This is how you thank me?
Oh no.
You got a little more than you bargained for
when you asked for a ride home.
You've got another thing coming.
Like that semi headed right for us.
Just hear that engine sing!
Like that little piece of me and you.
If you think that it should die,
then why don't we die too!?
Let's all go out together,
like one, two, and little three.
We can haunt this road forever;
we'll be a ghostly family!

Guess what I did after your dry wedding.
(Get drunk.)
Guess what I did after I met your kids.
(Get drunk.)
Guess what I did after that thing happened that I didn't know how to deal with.
(I'd be more specific if I could actually remember it.)

Why do you only say it when you're drunk?
If you can't say it otherwise, then I'd rather you not
say it
at all
EVER!
Save your kisses and hugs.
It doesn't mean nearly as much.
It doesn't mean a thing.
Don't expect me to believe it.
You're full of ****.

Feelings are fleeting,
and I won't pretend
that my thoughts aren't unreeling from a pole that will bend.
You broke me once -
it won't happen again.

Take that to the bank.
Go tell a friend.
There's a gap between where you begin and I end.

Fighters are fleeing,
but it's not so tough.
Can't see red until you give me enough.

You've given me nothing,
so what's this about?
A war over who gets this castle of clouds?
It's always been mine.
I'm kicking you out.

Servants are sweeping.
Seasons are seething.
Grumpy is Sneezing.
How's that for a painting?

Feelings are fleeting.
Anger and doubt.
Peace and serenity.
Go figure it out.

"With the birds and shed it's a lonely view."
- Scar Tissue   The Red Hot Chili Peppers

"I came in like a raiiiiiiiiinnbow!"
- Wrecking Ball   Miley Cyrus

"***** deeds, Dunder chief!"
- ***** Deeds   AC/DC

"There goes my hero, watch him as he goes.
There goes my hero: sergeant Harry!"
- My Hero   The Foo Fighters

"The boys of Becking town! The boys of Becking towowooown!"
The Boys Are Back In Town   Thin Lizzy

"Hey kid, you'll go far
because you're just so friggin' smart,
and nevermind this art ****."

Common sense dictates that you'll have to pay expenses.

I'm being pulled apart by forceful influences.

They say,
"Everybody's dying just to get the disease,"
but their silly guilt trips don't make me want to fall down on my knees
and pray.

Oh they say,

They say quite an awful lot of things,
but none of it means anything to me.

(Let them make all of their money.
Let them say that I look funny.
I won't let them swallow me whole while they rub their hallow tummies.)

Common sense dictates that I'll have to pay expenses,
but I take offense to the thought that I'm being pulled apart by outside influences.

Let them talk . . .

We're all together,
yet still far apart.
With no end in sight,
we've come a long way from the start.
Tugging on the tenuous strings of our heart
just to find out which are strongest.

I'm fond of every bond we've made.

Hearts are such fragile things;
how easily they break.
Please keep my pieces somewhere safe,
and I'll keep yours held tightly in hand.

I don't care how much they might bleed,
because you'll always understand.
Everything I could ever want and need.
Everything, all the time.
Everything at the speed of light.

I'll keep the pieces close to my heart.
I love you infinitely more now than I did from the start.
With no end in sight;
we're all together tonight.

Regardless of where life may take us,
we'll always be stars.
Reflecting each others' light -
no matter how far.

How exhausting it must be to be the enigma.
To mean everything and nothing at once
to everyone and no one in particular:
To let them down just to pick them up;
to make everyone go nuts.

He walks in through the front door;
a slim jim in one hand,
a four pack of beer in the other.
He looks at the tv screen to see a blond teen crying.

"What are you watching?"
he says as he crosses the room.
"Intervention," she says from the couch,
with a cup of beer on the table in front of her.

"OOoohh," he says with sarcastic interest.
In a way, it makes sense.
"It makes me a better person . . . " she says quietly,
almost to herself.

But he heard her.
"Watching a tv show makes you a better person?
How the hell does that work?"
His words full of doubt.

"Well, because I've had two husbands who were addicted to drugs, an-"

"And you're not? Ha!
Alcohol's a drug too,
sweetheart."

"Yea, but . . . it's not like I get drunk every night."

"Denial," he says, as he makes his way to the fridge.
"That's the first stage," he exclaims, as he pulls a beer loose from its ring.

"You're one to talk!" she yells from the couch.

He says to himself,
"Yea, well; takes one to know one,"
as he walks out.

Dream on you maddening dream thing,
with shakes and scattered breathing.
Shattered moonlit scenes spilt out in technicolor.

Dream on in tickling breezes,
and coughs and spasmic sneezes.
Dream of falls and rises.
Dream on, oh great Dream Mother.

Sow these seeds in hallowed ground.
Furrow through common sights and sounds.
Grow your beasts in wild silence,
then echo out their roars.

Dream of mazes and ancient riddles.
Find the key to unlock all doors.
Dream of worlds both big and little.
Dream on you dreaming angel.
Dream more.

I'm having a devil of a time trying to define the stars around your eyes,
but hey, I'm not a cosmetologist.
I just thought maybelline we could dream about pretty things,
and make up lines that coincide with our collided fantasies.
With puffed up lips and fluffy language as safeguards against sudden incites,
tonight we'll finally smash our parts together if only to discover that we don't even like each other -
not even a little bit.

Caught up in the space between the first word and the next
While I'm breathing softly into my sweet lover's neck
And when she stirs I feel a burn swell up inside my chest
Of all the tales I've ever heard; I like this one the best

You don't even live in a world that I visit.
Seen only on postcards,
and heard through second-hand descriptions.
I think I saw a commercial for it once on television.
People were splashing and swimming in crystal blue water.
The kind that makes you want a drink
when you're not even thirsty.
I'm fine where I am, thanks.
Go ahead and desert me.

I don't want to turn you into my confessor,
but I'm quickly becoming obsessed with telling you my thoughts.
Too much honesty can get everything *******,
and my heart's already in knots.

Third round on Thursday and waiting for hearse day.
Rehearsed for this moment;
Forgot what I was gonna say.
She says it's all the same but in a different way.

"Styles are incarnations of something that stays constant."
I disagreed with it and caused an upheaval.
They said I'm no good,
I told them I'm evil.
Often the devil takes hold of my tongue.
Stringing words together in a way that feels fun:
Astonished five flowers with burgundy scents.
Fell to the floor in a fit of nonsense.
"are you okay?"
That's an understatement.
Just give me four minutes to be born again.

I was sharing whispers with the dark,
and it told me dreams are charged with white light shining through the farce,
and if only everybody else could see;
then maybe everything would be illuminated.

I was having drinks with heathen's hearts.
They told me everything is what it seems but all is naught,
and if only I could glimpse the setting sun;
the moon would shine with forgiveness for every person ever wronged.
I forged alliance with the asteroids on our path.
They said, "everything is falling and that now is just a fact."
I found a seer with one eye.
She said said the whole world's going out of wack and that we're all gonna die.
I told her everyone has got a special sense;
we've gained our super powers through the loss of innocence and if only anyone would challenge us.
How quickly have we learned to turn our substance into dust.

I held a fork with hopes of finding a fit meal,
but sustenance only ever comes to those who proper learn how to steal.
I swear I've had my fill.
The world is nothing but a sharpened knife
and I've no blood left to spill.

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.

Give me art
Give me passion
Give me a different interpretation for these moments passing
Give me a total appreciation for this scene before my eyes
This scene that no one else will ever get to see
This scene that only I will ever be able to believe
I love it all the more because it can't be explained
Make me go crazy
Drive me insane
Clear that blocked path that's always been hiding in the back of my brain
Give me that power
The one that comes straight from the heart
Give me more passion
Give me more art

Rider in a groove, nobody strides like he does.
Writers on the move, trying to capture the rush.
Stumbling over each other, pen and paper in hand.
Caught up in a flush.
It'll take more than four of a kind to understand.

Place your bets right now.
Stake your claim while you can.
Whatever suits you.
This one's a winning hand.

Three Kings over two Queens.
Four cheeses are more than enough to capture a mouse.
I'm hungry too.
How much food can we get from your Full House?

Smooth it out then shoot it off.
Launch it like a cannonball.
Sue the summer.
Sink the surf.
Wave goodbye to the waves and sky.
Drown the sun in tides of fun.
Spring break never dies.

I dream of You.
I wake up to You.
I go to work and You're there.
Everywhere is You.

I come home to You.

When I'm alone,
there's only You.

Music is You.
Movies are You.
Every book ever written;
every word on every page:
You, You, You.
  
The sun, the world, and everything is You.
You are at the core of my being.  

I spend every day with You,
but I never get near Me.

The perspective that paints things in a positive light
is the one that most often escapes me,
though I chase it through chasms and tunnels and towers and trees.
I swing through a perceived collective consciousness in a desperate attempt to grasp what's most relevant; missing nearly every branch.
Trying to convince myself that I'm not a solipsist.

If you were me, then I'd be you, and I'd choose to do the same things that I'm doing now, which I guess isn't all too surprising.
All things considered.

"It was bound to happen eventually,"
said the high-flying object
from the ground.
"Something so full of holes can't stay afloat forever,"
said the sunken boat
made of Swiss cheese.
"Save me! Save me,"
said the dead man.

What do you do when you're proud of yourself for something you're too embarrassed to tell someone else?

Put those feelings on the shelf;
Top dollar purchase for the ones who sell out.

All my friends are down south,
but I'm northward bound because I just had to get out.

Slipping toward the ending of a tale never told.
Beginning in the middle because the intro's been sold now,
with everything falling apart while the false starts suddenly fall into place.

Keeping the old name but creating a new face.

Hit the dusty trail with a broken-down steed.
Feeding off the fumes of hearts in need while delivering gigantic fistfuls of nothing.

My twisted spirit demands recompense.

Life can be so rich.
Dig enough holes,
and you'll find they're all connected.
Dig deep enough -
past all the **** -
and you just might hit a mineral vein.

Win or lose,
you're bound to lose some friends,
and even though memories may be like little movies in your head that you can play over and over again,
the truth of the matter is:
They've already ended.

Are you sure you want to slip into that drink?
Being numb to the world isn't as great as you think.
Granted, it can make dealing with people easier.
It's hard to give a **** when you just want to sleep.

But you'll say things.
Things that are strange and mean and way out of character.
You'll become a caricature of your former self.
Even if you never knew who you were before,
rest assured, the drinking does not help.
Soul searching goes out the window when you're constantly blacked out.

But you won't be able to do it every night, try as you might.
Some entire days will be spent in bedridden recovery.
Your body will finally give in to that much needed sleep -
the kind you've been painfully longing for all week.
But the bliss you'll feel at this will be bittersweet,
because it's during these times that you'll dream.
You'll dream alright.
Frightful things that I can't even begin to describe.
Mountains of dread that will tear you to shreds,
and they'll feel far more real than your liquor-drenched life.

They'll drive you from your bed
to go and do it over again.
Make another fool out of yourself.
Alienate all your friends.
"Ah, **** 'em! Who needs 'em?
I don't even like them anymore."
Then the rumours will spread.
They'll call you a *****.
They'll call you a *******, a liar, and weak.
And they'll be nothing you can do about it,
because no one takes you seriously.
Even if they never say it out loud (and they won't,)
you'll know it's what they're thinking.
(Projecting is a psychological side effect of continued excessive drinking.)

There will be times in between,
fleeting moments of clarity,
where you'll look into a mirror and think:
What the hell is happening to me?
You'll catch at a thought as it crawls through your brain
and realize it's completely crazy -
that you are actually (no ****, legit) going in-*******-sane,
and you'll laugh.
You'll laugh because you'll know exactly who's to blame.
You'll be freaked out and terrified,
but you'll laugh all the same.

There will be other times too,
after all the rants and raves and screams and shouts,
the tears and fears and crippling doubts -
there will come a time when you want out,
but by then it will already be too late.
They'll be nothing left inside but anger and hate.

So before you sink into that drink, I say,
Wait!
Before you go breaking hearts and lose all your friends,
get out while you still can.
I hope you're listening.
I pray you comprehend,
because if shame doesn't do it first,
the dreams will get you in the end.

A friend said, "That kid's not right in the head,"
and without even asking, I knew who he meant.
I couldn't tell you how many nights we'd spent together.
The only difference is, to me,
he always made sense.

When I was much younger,
and tried to picture Our Father,
for some reason, I always thought of my own:

God is a man with a dark red tan,
pale blue eyes, and big strong hands.
God is a guy with a hammer on his thigh,
hanging from a carpenter's belt
above blue-jeaned legs.
He wears a T-shirt that I think once used to be grey,
but faded by the sun to an almost off-white.
He wears a mesh navy cap. The one He always wore.
The one he got from his days as a volunteer fire-fighter.
The only thing I pictured differently was the hair:
Curlier, and instead of being brown,
it was golden blonde.

I used to see my dad when I'd think about God.
In many ways, I still do.

You can throw your mess into my mess and mix until we have a 17-car pileup with no need to clean because we'll be up to our knees in blood and guts.
We can cross flooded streets with lightning rods strapped to our backs  and pray for the rain to send us some thunderous crash.

If I told you that Jupiter views its moons through a stormy eye,
would you see red?

Who would've thought we'd survive.

Add your bricks to my bricks and we'll entomb our feet with wet cement while we wait for the water to rise.
Grab your bike with the taped over reflectors then we'll ride down one-lane bridges dressed as reapers in the night.
You can throw your mess in with my mess and let it stew until we've got a steaming trainwreck and no way to clean because we'll be up to our necks in blood and guts.

If I told you a new moon happens only once a month,
would you black out?

Who would've thought we'd see light.

Oh ****.
Oh no.
I've slipped into a slippery dance with all of the things I've always feared, and all of the things I'll never know,
and I can't tell anymore if it's joy or sadness that causes all these tears,
but it hardly makes a difference, so long as I can still feel this:
a precious presence in the bones;
a song sung by the body that makes me feel not so alone.

I'd kiss you on the forehead.
I'll kiss both of your eyes.
Remembering to feel alive, at least until we one day die.

If I could manipulate time, then I'd put us both in the same instant,
to breath shared air,
if only for a minute.

There're a series of silhouettes standing still in my backyard.
They are the ghost versions of my former selves.
I stare into their dark.
A number of moments go by,
then all at once -
they come alive.

This one jumps his leg.
That one is falling down.
Gyrating in a pattern that isn't quite clear.
That one lights a cigarette.
This one sips a beer.
Circling as if playing a game of phantom music chairs.
I see one buckling over.
Another lunges out.
A patchwork design of folly and crime -
I can't decide what it's about.

If only I could get a top-down view,
then maybe I could see
the purpose of this pointless motion;
this parade of all that's me.

1: Ah, I'm not ready yet.
2. I'm still just trying to get situated, you know?
3. Also, I ******* hate dating
4. I'm totally comfortable with being alone at the moment.
5. Maybe too comfortable! (Hahahahahahahaha)
6. I'm probably more of a loner-type, you know?
7. I've never been very good at relationships, and they almost always don't end well.
8. Oh god, I can't even tell you the last time I was in a serious relationship.
9. It's been a long time since I've been with someone.
10. (Maybe too long! (Hahahahahahahahahahaha))
11. Ah, just the headache and heartache and having to answer to someone else all of the time. I prefer to just only have to look out for myself.
12. And I have enough trouble just doing that, most days . . .  
13. In a relationship, it's almost like you have to split yourself in two.
14. And in my not-so-humble opinion, when you add the two parts together, they still don't exactly equal a whole, you know?
15. I don't know. I'm just too selfish I guess.
16. Are you kidding? Yea but no, totally. She's beautiful, and seems really nice.
17. But beauty and kindness kinda freaks me out, you know?
18. It's been too long since beauty's been nice to me. (Maybe too long! (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA))
19. I'm ******* mental, really.
20. Anyone who tries to get close to me realizes that before too long.
21. No, not the interesting kind of mental; more like the annoying/intolerable kind.
22. I don't think I could handle it, honestly.
23. And honestly, it's been so long that just the idea of becoming emotionally involved with someone else scares the ever-living **** out of me.
24. Alright, **** it. Sure, why not? What's her name again?

I hear them come quick
in short little fits.
Tainted bursts lifted out of lungs thick with poison.

Deal with this.
"Yo, pass that ****."
Glide through mists of green grass, red brick, and grey stone.

This is not my backyard.

"Please stay with me so I'm not all alone."
Pale fingers on a quest to make contact with skin.
"I'm so overwhelmed, I don't know where to begin."
I'm never going back home again.
It doesn't even exist.

She says there's a system.
God made all the rules and set it in motion,
then calmly walked away
to leave us to our own devices (enterprises, surprises, demises)
Come what may.

"There's a philosopher who said that some people spend too much time playing with the meaning of objects in their heads. It can get to a point where nothing makes any sense, and they go crazy. Some of these people find a way to describe it, and they're known as poets."

The moon knows better than anyone,
with her sly smile reflected off the lake,
and all that light stolen from the sun.

"Do you know what I wish?"
No, and please, don't finish.
We are far from being done.
Let's not end it before we've begun.

This is my backyard.

If I'm just a zero,
then you are the one.

Put the car in park.
Sit there in the dark,
for a second.

Blink and then it's gone.
Find another song.
Turn the engine off.

Leave and take a walk.
Hear the streetlight talk,
for a second.

It said,
"Go left at that street;
the one named Destiny.
Run down it
forever."

Don't take bad advice.
The moon's not very nice.
She glares at you,
for a second.

A second's never felt so long.

Don't go past that tree;
the one without the leaves.
Blink and then you're gone
forever.

I've spent the majority of my life developing the body while ignoring the mind.
Wait, I mean it's the other way around.
I get confused sometimes.

I got a little carried away
by the way you say my name.
A little caught up by your make-up.
Lost in your eyes -
it's hardly a surprise -
how easily I fall in love.

Oops.

I just made it real.
I've felt empty for so long,
and you made me feel.
(Oh, to feel!)
I didn't mean to project my feelings onto you,
but everyone seems so fake,
and you seem so real.

Oops.

I didn't mean to smile that time.
I've been trying to stay mad at you
for making me lose my mind.

Oops.

I've got to get away from you.
These feelings make me want to die.
I'm jealous of everyone you talk to.
Why can't you be mine?

Oops,
oh ****,
I really ****** up this time.
I can't see a thing,
your beauty's got me blind.
Abandon ship!
Get out fast!
I swore I'll never love again because it never lasts.

Oops.

I died.

I didn't mean to,
just like how I never meant to turn red
whenever I heard your voice.
It's just so full of life.
Could you please sing at my funeral now that I'm dead?
I bet that'll make 'em cry.

Come one!
Come all!
Come have the time of your life!
The Modern Human Zoo presents:
A Creature of the Night!

Watch him angrily pace his cage by day.
Frustrated and oppressed as he's forced to earn a wage.
But at night, my friends, that's when he really comes alive;
(Midnight showing tickets cost at least twice the price.)
Feast your eyes on this beast's desires.
His rapidly unwinding mind.
His constant need for things unfathomable.
Constantly seeking the undefined - inevitably denied every time!
Stopping at nothing to find but one thing that satisfies.
Nothing ever satisfies!

Come see our finest display to date.
The pride and joy of our collection.
Our latest and greatest prize!

Three is a
magical
number, sure,

But I've my
doubts about
this structure.

Sounds stuttered
and vaguely
Robotic.

Sticky sweet,
and all but complete.
I'll meet you out there,
and that's a promise.

The next time we meet,
we'll be struck by half-forgotten dreams of things that might not have happened.

Don't you forget about me,
and I'll remember you.

False memories we'll believe to be true.