Miserious
& useless. Pretty problematic.
—I came twice on my own,
Then lifted leg against the party house;
my desires don't come to me.
   I am flameless (without fire),
And my prose is without life
as well—but coming along.
Remains a lifeless means of conversation.
   Grammatical Corrections:
Irritation, a distinction of the
"Left & Right" brains:
One side with thoughts of you— a
Desperate, romantic fraud, and
so indulgent of the sensuous.
And one classical side of head is
Dull and thirsty for the knowledge of things. If all we are to each other is our actions, then I must be one hell of a catch.

I am establishing self into
own vision; swallowed some of
My Own stolen ink: chewing on the pen from the front desk.
—tongue was aflame and bitter.
"Well," said self, "I better get more used to the taste of ink." —looked at me
in the rearview. "At least you look Dead Handsome with blacked-out, bruis-ed hickies on your lips."
And I popped my collar up.
It made me look distinguished, so I kept it there—. Opened car door and spit black bugs and blood against the snow.
Quickly realized then, how I could make the ground my canvas.

This is an Elaborate trick.
   I have not said a single, solitary thing— composed of any substance.

Notice:
   I have arrested all of your attention
   That is, if THIS
   Is working right.

Now:
   I can try my best at wooing you; I
   Can use the best trick that I have learned. Honesty. Honesty.

I almost crashed my car the last time that I saw you. Simply—
   My eyes got stuck.
   When I got back off the curb,
   I looked into my rearview—
   Funny,
   I always have the thing angled toward me.

   When my blood pumped-back-up
I pushed the pedal down in some display—in some attempt to peel the road, and simultaneously
To show your probable new guy,
And you,
My ***.

Notice:
  I am Angrier than I have ever been and I am Happy as ever.

I imagined and then
I created.

I dont want simple;
Feed me yourself in silver spoonfuls.
I want simple,

Lie to me,
and tell me
I am not an Animal.

   I am an analyst-dissecting details.

4Am fresh snowfall
I will remain capable!
Make first new footprints,

in a circle...
  Till I reach the middle.

I will remain incapable of
Tying my shoes.

   I am a participant in social warfare.

Looking forward:
Possible encounters &
Spring Rain.
Fantasizing both in measure.  

All I am to you is what you see, and
What you hear,
smell,
  touch,
    taste.

All you are to me so far
Is what I see, and what I hear;
So i am looking very hard,
   And I am listening very closely.

I want logic,
Tasting honey when I ******.
I want harsh confusion,
Complete absence of logic in it's essence.
Kissing a part of you that potties.

Now,
I can remain content in chasing my tail; I sleep balled up on top of the ocean, my clothes and fur strewn;

   Chewing paws in strange positions.

I want contradiction, an
Assurance of the Devil & a
Total disregard for ghosts.

Constructive chaos:
   Dress like ghosts on Acid and
Wear rollerblades.

I want my resumé to read:
>works well with others,
>great fighter, &
>An outstanding Lay.

I want to leave behind dreams,
I want to rent a room in your
dream bed&breakfast;,
Sometimes sharing yours, but always paying rent on time for mine.

Sometimes
swinging an axe against a rough stump,
Craving lemonade and
Spring Rain.

Part of me wants to grow old and
Mad, and sit by rivers; I could smoke ****** from a wizard pipe for my
Sore joints.

( I am alright with the possible outcome of Alone. )

[ I would rip my hair out,
Glue it to my body, & become
A boy in wolf's clothing. ]

I want creative destruction,
Mayhem,
borderline Mind ****.
Learning to pick the banjo half-decently.

   That Deliverance tune.

And walk around ski towns
   Scaring the **** out of some tourists
And other antagonists.

To my future self:
I wish you could get back here.