I can’t even begin
to tell you
where I begin
again

it may be late,
but the sun came up enough today
for it to go down.

that’s enough for me.

why must i always
uncover the unknown—
is it not enough
to follow what i know?

or are you just
unknown to me?
incapable of showing
and preferring to leave.

with cash taped to
the underlining of her skirt,
she walks on home
silent on the dirt...
the way she moves,

with a little sharp stick
and a little wrist twitch—
connecting with fists,
she scratches that itch...
the way she moves,

when do you begin?
afraid of life,
afraid of sin

silently,
she shows us how to be
in the deep mental groves,
all presented by
the way she moves

Oh ancient traveler,
I will see you again.

One day when the sun
rotates around the earth,

Our paths shall cross again,
and I shall weep for the
end of all things.

They call me a special name.
They call me a meteorite,
and I know I can fly forever.

love them,
for the good you see
in them—

don’t love them
for the good they see
in you.

cheap beer will always taste
like the bars that raised me

and your lips will always taste
like the thing that saved me

the rain trickles against
my window like a crackling fire

and i remember what my father told me,
raindrops fall faster than ashes

The brume dripped down the hills in inevitable
swaths, with mist dispersing across the
town, yet with no more room left to run.
I sifted through the fog dancing across
my windshield, with vision blurred from
headlights looking me deep in the eye.
Shepherded by racing heart, I spotted a
glow through the murky negative. A flame.
The red licks to the heavens stole my arms,
swerving my car out of the lane. I threw
my eyes to the source of the embers just to
identify a street light blinking at me, the haze
softening its edges. I laughed to the beat
of the music echoing softly through my
vehicle, after I bid my goodbyes to the
tale of potential heroism that floated
away with the wisps.

as my toes go numb,
i wade into the water...
and let the drips
turn into a storm.

To be an assassin dispersing
into the crowded city street,
to blend into the masses
with a finger on the trigger—
simply because it’s your first instinct

To be a stagnant lake,
just waiting to touch the sun.
Your serve no purpose on earth
in the sky, your life’s begun

Good morning!
It’s tomrrow now,

I’ll leave the to-do list
Written on your arm.

It won’t be numbered,
There’s no need.

we’ve been chasing the
forever setting sunlight
since it rose the once,

can we please rest now?
take a long seat in the moss..
get dissolved again

my life is just a
countdown to sobriety—
and i’m feeling great.

it was me
who leg go—
and i’ll always wish
i held on just one...

just one more moment

facts don’t change
peoples minds.

stories do,

when earthquakes shiver
when thunder drifts down from the hills
all the citizens burn down their home
and rip down the gate to their city

a trickle of rain sends them reeling
sprinting in circles for the end of the world
grabbing on to rubble
in an attempt to keep their balance

it sure feels nice to be hungry

Trip with me,
would it please you
to fall with me
to the great beyond?

The Morning Sun,
cuddled close to the Chill,
two monarchs—
deeply in love.

not naming names,
100 proof in my veins.
i cant be the same
when i'm drinking again

didnt know i was nostalgic
for self-reckless sadness
and if i go,
well, wouldn't that be tragic.

We travel a path
winding or an arrows-aim,
we all go down our journey—
don’t mind me! I’m just
traipsing around this forest aimlessly,
I bid you no harm.
Allow me to lie down
and be one with the muck!

We wander into death,
drunk and stumbling.

Just as we wander through life,
eyes closed with no plans of opening them

And quite honestly—
With no plans at all

distance between our graves
spacious and airy—
leave our kids to sing
“vivere volumus permanere”

Forget one night.
Forget your claims.
God knows my heart
will still beat the same.

Forget this sorrow.
Forget this pain.
I could never be enough...
Why can’t I ever change?

I'm so into you,
I could never be into
myself that way, too

While the world crumbles,
hear the trumpets hail to you!

so many trickling drops
running down icicles,
sky matching the startling blue
i see in your eyes.

when the horizon
blends into the snow
and the trees slice through it
like lightning bolts,

snow will be warm in my touch
melting still,
on my bare fingertips
exposed to the elements.

i stumble through the dense woods,
leaving the clearing
to be shaded in and sheltered
by the forest’s river

dead silent.
i look around again,
just the icy expanse of startling blue
i see in your eyes.

you kiss me while we stand
waist deep in the river
and melt away downstream,
like the snow i thought... we thought

we weren’t

i see a white truck driving opposite me
they’re on the opposite side of the valley
i wonder who is driving.

i like to imagine it’s a father with a little girl strapped in
mostly because i want to imagine it’s me
in my fathers brown chevy

it smelled like cigarettes and spring.
i mostly hope it’s the same for that little girl
and her father.

i miss my father cranking the windows down,
he would pull over to do it
because neither of us could reach.

he would go to hell and back for me.
i love him and he loves me
so why can’t we say it out loud.

now i sit on the bus with an aching back
trapped inside windows that won’t open
and i look across the valley.

When you learn
how my life ends,

How can you look me--
in my eyes,
and say you'll still love me?

“Why are you still here?” They ask me,
when I say life bears me no intrigue,
“It’s simply all I know,” I say—
which is just about all I can manage today.

Why are you trying
so hard to lose your mind?

My dear,
Just grab my hand.

With a beating heart,
we finally speak goodbyes—
and not say a word

Write me.
Scribble me into
your existence.

Craft me the way
I know you’ve
always wanted to.

I can be a commander!
Building up your world
around your feet.

I’ll be your manuscript!
As long as it means
you’ll still read me.

Please,
just warp me at your leisure,
if it means you’ll stay.

i love the blood
pounding in my head,
as you dangle me upside-down—
lips turning bright red.

Let me speak your name,
tune birds sung for centuries—
my morning lullaby

how does your tongue
flutter as does a butterfly;
silent and wind carving—
yet unmistakable on the skyline...

You stain my skin
like the indents on my wrist.
The hair-ties from my weary day,
unused and painful.

Luckily, I employ you.
The indents fade and the angry
red marks vanish,
while my vision clears with it.

The crack of my wrist,
hyperextended like my patience,
I bring back feeling to my fingers.
Time to get to work.