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 Apr 2013 Brandon
mûre
I love you more than me
it's what scares me most
my chameleon heart
I become what I cling to.

And so my colour-blind soul
passing through shades
when picking you flowers
what do I have of my very own to give you?

You made me out of blue
You felted my heart of this red
You turned my hands to gold.

I am already you
I have nothing of my very own.
My darling, what could I give you now?
 Apr 2013 Brandon
Jeffrey Bustos
Bio
 Apr 2013 Brandon
Jeffrey Bustos
Bio
Let me start with a cliche: I love to write.
Let me edit it: I love writing
Lying on the floor
Truths in my head
Think
Of me
Baggy Pajama Pants
 Apr 2013 Brandon
Wanderer
Quiet
Only my heart beat in the space occupied
With the heavy weight of shadows
Soft, gentle rush and hum
Of a potential tragedy
This is not the first time
Subtle clues as to how and why linger just on the edge of my once controllable perception
Pipe the **** down!
Too many voices in here
Concentration a mere past time
Untouchable
Sharp and acrid my fingers taste of indigo ink
As I **** softly at their habitually stained tips
Punctuated only by black coffee my diet is sparse
Like so many things, desire for even the most basic functions is lack luster at best
Where have you gone?
Did you mean to take my sanity with you?
My ability to pull it together more natural than forced
Although I cannot say the same for my smile
Tomorrow I may switch to bitter tea
Soak up some sun
Do my best.
But today, today I'll enjoy the clouds.
It cannot rain all the time but when it does, dance in it.
 Mar 2013 Brandon
mûre
Itchy Organs
 Mar 2013 Brandon
mûre
My whole body is an itch I cannot scratch
fingers cannot find any inch of skin that will release me.
My heart wears cashmere- what fancy torture
my lungs corset-laced with wool yarn- sewn in, out, in, out
my sleeps are restless, riddled with half-dreaming and talking aloud
my waking- quick, jolting
and I tumble out of repose, electric, electronic
jitterbugging with the urgency of an itchy soul.

I need to move.
My insides know it.
 Mar 2013 Brandon
Wanderer
Stay
You always seem so far 
Away
Even the bleached roads between us
Cannot keep these lies from drowning 
Piece by piece
I don't want this to hurt you
I don't write this to hurt you
My hands fall down by broken sides
Bruised love handles telling their own 
Version of what always happens
Stay
You don't have to rip away 
Tearing what little fabric we still hold
Deafening, the aching numbness that follows
Silence
A sword wielded  by an expert marksman
On your own time, sweet heaven hurry
Tensed like a bow string, ready 
Stay
Never fade
 Mar 2013 Brandon
mûre
Sticky hands-
the price of touching delicious things.

And no matter how I handle you...
from the spout, with a mitt, upside down,
you get all over my mind
you sneak your way into thoughts that
haven't even come close to you.

And for each drop of soap
an ounce of appetite comes to tip the scale.

A sticky heart.
That's the price of touching delicious things.
Young people can you feel the suffering?

roca wear, gucci, apple, facebook, mcdonalds, apple bee's,
honda, lamborghini, harvard, Community College
american express, pnc bank, walmart

Wage Slaves, ceos, owners, lenders, renters, indebtedness
Structural dehumanization, systematic mechanization
Exploited labor feeding blood to your hungering consumerism

Young people you are embracing MISANTHROPY!

Embracing the hate of your own humanity! Why the hypocrisy?
Wealthy children, poor children
Trying for enlightenment through education

Parents garnering wealth through the oppression of their victims
Parents garnering debt through the oppression from economic inequality
Still you invest and promote the only legitimization of your being: CAPITALIST UTILITY

Capitalism engineering unrelenting misanthropy
Vicious economic system discarding humanity
Perfecting the concentration and accumulation of wealth
With the expansion of human alienation and murderous competition

Prostituting your body to labor exploitation and consumerism
Where does your wealth end up?
multinational companies? financial corporations? military arms contractors?
Loyalty lies in their pockets, backstabbing everyday tactics
Killing you through the exploitation of your body
Because they know the birth of another proletariat or bourgeoisie can replace you  

Entities, not human, how much have they bought you for so that you cannot see!!!
Beware of these misanthropic missionaries granting your body power and agency
When your body can no longer be plundered for profit you will taste tears and blood

Young people will you deliver your forefathers and fathers
From worshiping capitalist misanthropy?
March 8, 2013
 Mar 2013 Brandon
Wanderer
I've got your ashes sitting quietly on my night stand
They whisper me to sleep at night
So do the lazy legged spiders lounging in cobwebbed corners
I am sad today. Lost.
"they" say that time heals all wounds
Tell that to the hemorraging cavity of my war torn chest
Looking down to take in the carnage the absence of my heart doesn't startle
Only numbs
I knew with you that my every beat, gush of blood
Had found its home
In the unkempt rhythm of yours
The silence that followed is deafening now that stillness has over come

You never gave up.
You just gave in.
Spirit pulling to interrupt
I will never be the same again
For you Jeremiah. You've left me in pieces but at peace. I know you are no longer suffering. Y.H.M.W.H.F.M.W.L.
 Mar 2013 Brandon
mûre
Should I stay, or should I go?*
Reveal the consequences I first should know
If behind the red velvet drape
it means I lose you, do I still escape?

We courted across mountains and cherished our flaws
If I head to the coast will you stay true to my cause?
I waited for you across thousands of elk
Will you now linger, as I re-boot myself?

How might I render your mind at ease?
I seek only to love, if not to appease.
Let me have a summer by sea.
It isn't you, my dear, it's me.
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