We measure our success
By what we build
SoOoo

Sand castles and recycling bins
Which can I stack higher
Built too close to the tide
Maybe self sabotage is what I desire

When the glass topples and shatters
And I sweep up the shards
The fine dust is what actually matters
When it tears my lungs apart

But who knows when I'll decide
That perhaps what I'm building is wrong
And life could be better spent beside
The people that I've loved all along

******* posers.
I'm the real deal,
*******.
Watch me
Dance
My stupid *******
Monkey dance,
And listen
To me sing
My dime a dozen
**** heap song.

Real is as real
As you want it to be,
But if you ask me,
*******,
You're all faking it
Just as much
As I am.

So get crispy,
And leave me
The ****
Alone.

Silence echoes,
yet it sounds like laughter.

Years of flipping through them,
Torn pages filled with photos
And things.

Must've thrown them away
At some point,
Maybe recently.

The book was in the cupboard,
The photos were in the book,
She was in the photos in the cupboard in the book.

It was there for years,
And years and years,
Every time I looked.

Now they're gone, and I'm not sure where
They may have ended up, but...
I don't really care.

Because sometimes it takes
A little letting go
To let the past fade out,
And to focus on tomorrow.

My bird returned home,
Only not in photo form.
Those photos may be gone
But now there's time for more.

These ******* people
I surround myself with
make it impossible
to enjoy the
allure of death.

So I guess I'm cursed
to keep on living.

Thanks a lot.

******* *******.

Gone and done
Sit quietly with it
Feel what there is
To be felt

Apologists say sorry
To empty rooms
In a haunted house
And sigh right back at the wind

Tomorrow, yesterday
Time is a rippling plane
And every imperfection
Casts a perfect shadow
Across the thin veil
Of reality

Nothing matters
But not like that,
Like nothing is something
And that something
Means everything
To nobody

Doesn't take a cashier
To make some change
And there'll always be time
And it'll feel familiar
And it will frighten you
I think that's what defines
The proposition of change
Better now than later
Hair will grow back
These things will be different
But always somewhat the same

Inspired.
Penned a letter to a fellow,
Told him thanks for the tip.
He taught me that nothing
Is really worth a ****.
"Wise man, wise words,"
I thought, with a grin.
Grimacing at the pine cone
Taste of this gin.
So now what's the plan,
Where's my next place to sin?
I scan through the faces
Of my fellow patrons,
And consider myself lucky,
brimming with indignation.

Lucky as a duck,
To be this ******* numb.
Imagine having emotions,
God they're all so ******* dumb.

I've figured it all out you see,
It's not about you and me.
It's not about love,
or life,
or honesty,
It's about...
...it's about...

...What,
was I taking about?

She stretches.
On a lazy morning.
Under my covers,
In my bed.

Weight.
The emotional scales
Become a teeter totter,
And I can't find a balance.
I could never find my balance.

I'm over-dramatic.
I know it's all in my head,
But...

Thrown away,
Dug up.
I'm divided.

And, ****!
Ain't the good, just..
..so, ******* good.

Ain't it just..
..some kinda warmth..?
..some kinda... God?
Her, here again?

Ain't it just clutching me?
The dripping wet maw of lust,
The dire, clenching grip of lost love,
The light, whispered touch of fair skin?

Ain't it just ripping me to shreds?
The dichotomy of who I am,
Verses who it is that I want to be?

All I know is, she got legs for miles.
And man...
Don't you just know that
I'm gonna savor
Draping those legs upon myself.

I'm gonna wear her like a knit scarf.

I'm gonna savor her flavor.
I'm gonna savor her smell.

I'm gonna look at her
The way a ******
Looks at a loaded needle.

I'm all tied off,
I can feel my heartbeat in my ears.

It's cool to be sad
Be hip
Be trendy
Be alone

And you'll be popular
In theory

It's alright
It's okay
There'll be
Another day
And someone
Will wake you
By grabbing
And shaking you.
You'll stretch
With a yawn
And see that
It's nearly dawn
With the sun
Peeking it's head up
Over top of
The horizon.

Am I a ****** brother?
Guess I'll have to ask him.
Maybe when he's older.

You do not base your own self values
Off of what other people value you for.
Or maybe you do.
I don't know.

Make me feel
Like a man,

And

I'll make you feel
Like a woman.

Man, I **** my pants this morning.
At least I didn't wet the bed...
...again.

A tangled nest of lights
Like an **** of fireflies
A bizarre meeting between death and life
Like ******* in a cemetery at night

A far reach
Top of the cabinet
Climbing on the countertop

A solemn
Solitary box of tea
Peeks out at me

Violent water
Effervescent and sweet
Hot beyond belief

A scalded palette
A grimacing smile
Through sensitive teeth

Breathe in deep
Hesitate before
Blowing off the steam

A laugh
A sip
A day slipped past me

The guilt comes and goes
It's starts with love
And fades as it grows
The roots of a wicked tree
Buried in the snow
Siphon bits of joy
From deep down below
It always starts with love
The guilt comes and grows
Like the waves of an ocean
That everybody knows

I can't remember
All the good things
That have happened
And
I can't forget
the things that
I wish never did happen.

But I get to decide
What to think about,
My thoughts don't tell me
What to feel.

Choose positivity, and
Watch the world change
Around you.

I like raisins.

Come at me bro.

Yellow
Tastes
Fields
Of gray
Shallow
Puddles
Rainbow stain
Burning
Scent
Stinging
Smoke
A cloud
A sign
A single spoke
Spinning
Wheels
Cogs
Enmeshed
Work together
Drive the rest

Both of us, smiling,
A little out of breath,
Now on the
Far side of
The duck pond.

I listen to the rhythm
Of her breathing
And see the slight
Rise and fall of
Her chest,
The bead of sweat
On her upper lip,
Inviting me to taste it.
My thoughts wander,
Cementing that sound,
That rhythmic breathing
Into my memory.


I look forward to hearing it again.

Hope she's got a pen on her,
I bet that she does.

I think I've fallen in love
With the little trash can under my desk.

Every morning now for years
I've been finishing in it
So that I don't have to clean
Anything up when I'm done.

It's gotten to the point now
Where I can't get off
Without that little trashcan
Being around.

I've *** into a lot of things
Over the span of my life,
But nothing has ever compared,
I'm calling that trashcan wife.

And I don't know
What I would ever do
Without it.

I got something
She wants.

She got herself,
And a new mouth to feed.

Worry away,
thinking all day.

Circles come,

Circles come.

Sometimes circles stay.

Up on the bed
On your stomach
With your ankles in your hands

Tongue out
Choking
Looking up

Pulling out
A gasping breath
Glistening face, getting wet

Spit on it
Slap it on your cheek
Hair stuck to your lips

A tear mixed
With the sheen of spit
Dribbling down your chin

I'll take a photo
And savor it
As you look into the lens

Knotted up in your hair
Control the rhythm
A lack of air

Gagging, deeper
Faster now
Trying not to black out

You cough and try
To pull away
A slap, a spit, you're here to stay

At least until it's
Said and done,
Finish line here I come

I slip into my coat
Of coarse surface rust,
I'm pitted.
I stand with a squeak and a rattle,
And with a sigh I stride
Toward the sodden gray sky
Peeking at me through the slats
In the yellow venetian blinds.
With a wavering hand
I tug on the strings
And turn round in wonder
At my various things.
A kettle, a pan, a jar of bacon grease,
Dry pens, a magnet, some broken porcelain,
A stain on the carpet, a stain in my skin,
Where did this **** all come from?
When did it all begin?
Did I have an intention,
Did I have even an ounce
Of certainty?

Twelve, twenty nine, or ninety,
No matter how old I am,
I'll always enjoy
Writing my name in the snow.

Sometimes I take a step back,
Internally,
And watch my thoughts go racing by.

I like observing them
From the outside,
It helps to put life
Into perspective.

But,
Sometimes...

Sometimes I don't step back.
Sometimes I strap up,
And I lean in,
And I let the thoughts
Take me for a ride.

Because there's something
Living there, in that mania.
Something creative,
Something destructive,
Something...
...Human.

I'm gonna live forever.

So far, so good.

Tic tic tick tick
Tac toe toc tock
Silly ***** nilly frills
Yesterday is another mistake
I'm ****** to repeat
Forever
And ******* ever
Unless something gives
Give gives given
Give me
Give that to me
And tell me it's mine
Mines miner minor mine
You're all ******* mine
For for forever for
Mine forever never whether
You want to be to be between
Between you and me
I'm ******.

I don't write for me

I write for you to see

Because it's how I please

Myself.

Seems I don't have much to say

There's a faint
Scent
Of candle smoke,
Welcoming
My nose.

The afterglow image of
open flames
Is burned into my retinas.

I can hear the song
Echoing,
Throughout the twenty nine
Years.

I can taste light
Whipped cream,
And a hint of vanilla
Mixed with coffee.

I can feel love
Permeate
Through the aether,
And meet my gaze
As I look
Upon the stars.

Silhouettes of silos
Go streaking by
In the clear night sky.

I rest my head
On my fist
And then rub my eyes.

Why is it that
The trip home
Always feels shorter
Than the one away.

When did vacation
Become a memory,
And seem so impossibly
Far away?

I remember sleeping
With my forehead
Pressed to the window.

I remember feigning sleep
So that I would be carried
To my bedroom.

A grip, a squeeze,
A pressing matter.
Skinned knees,
haughty laughter,
Begging "please,"
A lustful spatter.
My name,
Your name,
Before and after.
Out of breath,
An artful disaster,
Making a mess
Is what really matters.
Horizontal,
Floating,
Up in the rafters.

Coming down.

Holding on.

Letting go.

A squeeze
A smile
A tingling breeze

Sit right here
Next to me
And let's just watch
Some TV

The wind blows
Carrying a cloud of sand
Like a thousand little razors

It feels
It feels like pins and needles
It feels like waking up
     To something that's been here
          All along.