A shaky feeling as I pat at my chest
telling myself to move on
to accept
yet try as I may failure is my friend
so I stop trying to find success.

did you know that a dynamic first cluttered light spilt about and smattered the various golden brimming lip of earth gilt in ******* bolts of mountain fat and even their ridiculous shoulders couldn't stop the dawn from treading succinctly marvelous sporadic flare

I'm Sad.
Why I'm I sad?
I don't know why, I guess.
Or I'm I falling behind my facade of lies?
Is it because I feel used by family and friends?
Where my ideas and opinion are cascaded to the depths of hell?
Everyone says my heart gold and pure.
Yet they walk all over me.
The urge to yell and scream anger,
bellows within me.
Then Guilt.
Yes the ever persistent Guilt, empowers the facade.
sigh
Perhaps its the death of 8 true friends in 3 years?
Maybe the fact I haven't seen best friends in months?
Perhaps never again seeing my Grandmother,
The woman that knew me best.
sigh
I know what I must do an yet,
I stride away from it with fear.
This facade I hide behind,
eats at my soul every minute.
sigh
I am sad because the thought of closing my eyes forever,
Was joyous.
I am sad because I don't stand up for myself.
I am sad because I have yet to follow my dreams, and
to make my own waves in life.
I am sad because the world has indulged itself in violence.
Mainly, I'm sad because I have yet to do anything about my sadness.

sadly to say
my reflexes have left me today.
when you said i love you
i stared at the moon
when i came to
you asked
"where were you"
i said "i left"
you said "i know"
and we greeted the new day
as a couple with to many words
to say hey.
she knocked the glass with her left elbow
i caught the glass with my right hand
the T.V was on
i thought we canceled the cable
and made love on the table
still i forgot to say
i love you
because today i'm a penguin
not a cat, like yestarday

or
well the
last time we were
which was also like
it was like 2 hot kittens
with button eyes trembling
against their sockets an unimaginable
tear and ladybugs and it smelled so pretty
when the stormy dream of your fuzz blundered
into the small summer of sturdy knees and sore ankles
and rickety sounding sunsets caving with silence, their
prosey colours dullling with a fast time over the bulbous
hearth of gods lemon drop wrists that have large merry hands
smiling with dew flecked cheeks rambling open rough lipless pockets
of deep poppies singing in the right little garden in the front yard of yesterda

                                                                                                                                      y