Oh Gosh. I thought I'd lost you. The signal was cut wasn't it?
What were you saying? Something about how this is too much
for you and... That's all I caught. What was the rest? Too much for you...
and you still want more? Well, I've got a lot more to give so don't
you worry your precious head over it.

Okay, we started off on the wrong foot. Wrong foot. Is that saying relevant anymore? After all, you're 20 years my junior; and I'd like to form a connection. We're into the same things, you know? I enjoy The Walking Dead, too. Did you know there a few video games based on the series? Of course you do -- you have an Xbox One. I bought one for my daughter last Christmas. She's about your age now. I think she'd be fond of you. I'm getting ahead aren't I? I didn't mean to. It's just that I like you. Am I being too pushy? I'll go...

3:45 A.M.

Hi. I kno itz been a while. im up l8. Thinkin of U. Yeah. U told me not to txt U ne more but i couldnt help it K? Dad keeps asking why we don't talk like we used 2. like when we were yungsters. i tell him itz cuz U found a GF. Itz not true. Itz hard for U. Hard for me 2. i still replay that night in my head. U came over. We watched horror movies all nite. Ur hand snuck up on me. It felt like a spider. i thought it wuz a spider. i screamed and U paused the movie n told me to shh. i did. Then i realized it was ur hand on my hand. i was scared at first. It wasnt rite. But i went along with it anyway. i was alone. No1 liked me at skool n U were ****. Then ur hand found itz way between my thighs n that was the 1st time i smiled n years...............i just miss U. i miss US. im still here 4 U, K? Letz talk.

4:13 A.M.

O n tell Auntie Jane i said hi plz k thnx bye

I do my best not to age you
beyond your wonderful years. Your skin
stretches far and wide. Your belly
has no end in sight;
and it's in the way you
move under such dim light that has me
wondering if questions are worth answering;

I wonder if these feelings
are worth doubting.

What are bodies,
other than lonely spaceships
without aliens?

You're my favorite stranger,
my kind of danger; the blood
that boils deep in these veins.

Is that not living?

I do my best not to shape you
past your immaculate form. Your mind
is a curious device; your brain
contains no stop signs;
and it's in the way you moan
my name through telephone wires at night
that has me wondering if questions are worth answering.

I wonder if these feelings
are worth doubting.

You're the settle of taut
muscles; the easy ***
and difficult to let go.

Can I say anymore
that hasn't already been
said out loud
and in secret?

i.
I fell into this hell
at the age of twelve
on a warm Sunday in Texas.

While the rest of my family
left to church, I was to remain
at home with my 16 year old
cousin.

They thought her harmless
because of her physical ailments.

I soon found out
anyone could be a Roman.

She held both my skinny arms far apart
as though she was preparing to nail me to a cross;
Later on that night she taught me how to dance
like a demon; I've never been burned by an
effervescent fire since.


ii.
This hell does not define me,
but has marked me forever as an outsider
to pure happiness. I've been set ablaze
for life. My relationships have sunk
into the depths of the inferno; their remains
are stories now. The kind you tell
at campfires to ***** all the naive
children.

iii.
It's a long climb when you
start at the bottom. Where the scarlet
teeth gnaw at your insides, where
the claws tear away at your badly drawn design.

iiii.
Mother, you have forsaken me.

A fool who only wanted proper nurturing.

Goddess of Neglect,

Your imprint has stained

everyone who wants to love me.

iiiii.
I can live with these tattered wings.

Bruised skull. Punctured Lungs.

Aching muscles. Taut body.

I can fly if only for a little while.

Be free. Be free. Be Free.

Love myself.

Love others

just as well.

we do the best
we can
to ignore it;

run for our lives
till the end of time;

it's on the edge
of our tongues

sharp as a blade,

it sets our
tightly knit
mouths ablaze

yet it isn't true,
and it does not exist

this fatal word

the one that
tries desperately
to escape our lips

no,

we are an organism
that knows no boundaries;
an organism
that will never cease
to exist

we can make decisions,
but we don't
have to live with
our choices

we can exit stage
or wait for the
final curtain

it remains
in the soil
of our plump,
red hearts

saying it;
won't change
much

but at least
we have this
one opportunity
to do so

How do you spell your own
name without falling over
backwards? Desperate
to piece a Self together,
as it simultaneously unravels;

the floor is muddy
with wants, needs,
likes, dislikes

"I'm not that
kind of person"

leaks from the mouth
like gasoline from
an open sore
of a brand new car

And we limp
forward, as though
our souls were
built upon stilts

This is a good start,
mind you,

Because without
the trouble you don't
have the nightmare
and without the nightmare
you can't have a world
full of suffering, and without
the suffering...

There is no meaning

behind your name,

no sticky blue
plasma that emits
personality rays

Oh, you know,--

That poor ole thing we call

a soul.

i.

There are tiny
holes in the wall,

as though
the drill
was having
the time of it's
life not fulfilling
it's duty

It reminds me
of the time
I wore a brand new
pair of shoes just
to splash around
in puddles

We are the increments
of flesh caught in the
gnashing gears of time
and space

ii.

There will be a day
when you say
goodbye to me;

and I won't
mind the heartbreak,
I swear,--

I'll carry your
wicked smile
to the depths
of my grave

California is burning with
premature smiles, highways
littered with mechanical
insects, foaming at the mouths

They make a beeline
for the stairs, going
nowhere they sigh

and wonder how

or why

they got packed
in so tight; we're much better

than sardines, much
better than peas

Another valley
is carved across

a November
sunset

The bridge smiles upon
these fiendish ghouls, sheds
a few fall leaves and opens
it's arms wide;

welcoming the ever flowing
upper/middle

class tide.

On the eve of Halloween
we took your aunt's car
out for a joyride;

You took us to
to a chicken chip
corner joint and
I ordered a small
box of chips;

But you insisted
I try the chicken
even though I told
you many times I was vegan.

It wasn't even a week
before you started finding
my interests funny, like
they were bad jokes
or something;

started poking
and prodding,
bullying me
into thinking
your thoughts;

forcing me to
feel your feelings.

We sat in the car,
ate our food,
you got crumbs on
the pleats of my skirt
(the perfect excuse
for your trespass).

'I'd love
for your tongue
to do laps around my ****'

was your way of
saying you never
wanted to see me again.

But we did meet again,
didn't we, Henry?

It was at the coroner's.

I was there to identify
your mutilated body.

Where do we stand?

We're like a couple of broken DNA strands.

Your mother left you when you were young;
you were this tall, barely a know it all, and your body
grew thinner and thinner as they days went by.

Do you often dream of the night

I dragged my fingers across your ribcage?

It tickled you into adulthood.

I sawed you in half
held you down until
you cried for me to stop.

Limits weren't my specialty in those days.

But you asked, no,
begged to be torn apart;
said limbs were for soldiers
and dolls.

How right you were,
with two elbows and
kneecaps edged into the
wood floor.

Now were do we stand?

As we lay like bags without sand.

I await your response.

When one looks for cavities
there's a myriad of sweets to choose from

So why is there
an incessant desire
to be fulfilled
when you can dig
more craters into the soul?

Milk shake,

rattle-pop, and

Tootsie Roll

No one is ever gonna know,
who dipped their hands into the bag
and stole a couple of this,

that's, and

those

Cause a kid who tells
on another kid
get's a sweet and tasty
6 foot hole

You're my grandmother.

A statue at the sewing table.

There is nothing there

but the fabric of faded

womanhood;

your history is embedded deeply.

It's too late to make up for lost time.

Yet, I still mention your name

when I am writing sadness

across these walls.

Has what little joy

you kneaded into my

sides been torn away already?

You were my grandmother,

now swaying beneath the clouds

with skinny branches;

as though you were asking

for one last hug before you depart.

You were looking through my recent Google search history weren't you?

That's fine. I predicted you would.

You see what I want you to see;

Those iceberg eyes sink deep into me,
and the anchor is all this misunderstanding.

There was never any trust to begin with.
No real love. At least not like the **** we consume during
our daily binge watching. So drama ensues; the only thing we can count on. It turns the pale skin walls into crimson red curtain calls. Threats to leave fill the midnight air. Someone falls down to their knees, prepared to crawl. There are stains of tears that plague the carpet floor. *****
on the piano tucked in the corner of the living room. It's a coffee-caramel coated body that's seen bitter days. How sweet things were
before the necessary change.

We're still here aren't we?

There are fools that believe it grows on you;

I don't think so.

one just gets used to how awful it all really is.

when i was a child
i drew an outline
of my future
with broken chalk
across the side
of a road that
no longer exists

you see
when the eyes
persist
they reimagine
the past as some
kind of bad joke,
or a science
experiment

when i was a child
i was forced to make
love to people
who didn't deserve
it;

i guess asking
for permission
didn't exist back
then

or were we all too
scrambled in our brains
to get our bodies
to do what we say?

instead they just gave
into their instincts
and impulses

our tiny naked bodies
under ***** blankets;
tightened fists, kicking legs
and strained muscles

the trees outside
still swayed as though
they never had mouths
to feed, as though
they weren't desperate
to think, feel, or be
free

it all came so naturally...

when i was a child
i broke twigs in two,
kicked empty beer
cans, and poked
rollie pollies
in their bellies
until they got
sick and threw up

i laughed, cried
and wished that
i could die

i did this well
into my late
twenties

until i realized
i was going to live
for a long time

then i said **** it,
**** the world,
**** the creator
he, or she
doesn't exist

they were never
there to stop
my father
from his routine
abandonment

they were never
there to stop
my mother
from withholding
nourishment

sometimes
there aren't enough
words and wishes
to conceal the truth
from it's own existence

it has to live
in order for
me to die

perhaps, it's been a joke
all this time and i've
been to stuck up
to spare a laugh
or two

i smile more
than i often believe
i should

but at least
i know my body
is strong enough
to rebel against my fate

when my mind is
too afraid to make
the change

My mother and I  met on Cupid.com
I was thirteen and she was forty-five;
but on her profile she was listed as
twenty-nine. We agreed to meet
at the local Starbucks on a Sunday afternoon.

The sun was out;
it's rays like orange sprinkles dusting
the dead, green earth
and snake-like sidewalks.

I sat in the far corner, my head
in a book; every now and then
peeking over the pages my
finger bookmarked. I was reading
******, and I had not made it
past the first page. Lo-Lee-
Ta, or something rather.

She arrived ten minutes later
than the time we agreed on,
but I wasn't angry. She offered
to buy me a Iced Vanilla Frappuccino
and salted caramel cake-pop but I declined.

We sat there for what seemed like a decade.
I was too busy looking around; acting
like I was admiring the art on the walls;
and she was playing with her hands;
humming to a popular female folk singer-
songwriter that was playing over the loudspeakers.

'I can go,' she said after the track finished.

'No, it's okay.
Stay, please' I said.

There was silence.

'It's been a while since I've seen you'
she said.

'I know, I know' I said,
'You lied
about your age.
That's not cool'

'Sorry about that.
I just didn't know
if you'd like me
if I was older
than forty..'

'That's the entire point,
no?' I interrupted.

And I didn't notice
she had bad posture
until she started fidgeting
with her hair; it was in a loose,
unkempt bun. She tugged
at the hair tie until
it all fell down to her shoulders.

I was finally relieved
to see that I had a beautiful
mother and soon suggested
that we go to her place
and talk about my childhood.

She smiled, and made
an attempt to grab the car
keys she left on the table,
but I was quicker.

'No,' I said laughing,
'I'm driving'.

And that was the first
time I ever took charge;
and nothing has changed since.

i woke up today
just to cry myself
back to sleep

i thought about the world
but in pixels and tones

the wheel of color
spun and spun
until it washed
my dreams in gray

and i sank like
a cloud of smoke
into an old woman's
mouth

i stood among others
and noticed their
shoulders were being
pulled by strings, and their
knees clanking like
aluminum cans
in their faded denim jeans

i laughed a little laugh
and felt a tear roll down my cheek

a hand crept out of the shadows
and swam in my creek,
told me it would be alright
and that i should get back to sleep

and so i did, but then
i dreamt i was alive

and the glory of God
had shown me the way

i was overwhelmed
with worry, wasn't
i born to one father?

and what of mother?

these two creatures
sit like ravens on their perches;
cawing for my return but i did
not look back; for i know
what their feathers have in store for me

i speak in a human tongue:

let you go i must, i say;

as though speaking
were much like guiding a small
part of heaven through
bitter soil

let's leave here, i say
to my love, let's become
better

and my eyes
shut forever, my mind
no longer a seeking missile
desperate for a target,

but like a thread
guided by a compassionate
hand, i am woven

into the fabric

of forgiveness

don't mind
the burning
red eyes,
or the tears
streaming
like exhausted
snakes

down my cheeks;

I'm just here,
waiting (with
clenched fists
and trembling
ribs)

for your

sweet kiss
goodnight

eliminated from the team, refracted
from the equation, put in a bird
cage, flimsy construction
paper soul pressed against
the lips of a thousand blades

vibrating like soil
under the weight
of a nameless stampede

floating away, a distant
but fond memory,

tired of living,

exhausted from trying

let it come naturally...

breathing the sharpest
daggers, open arms for
cruel, sick jokes;

embrace the absurdity;

sleep upon nerves
shot to hell, welcome

the worst of thoughts;

like wicked flames
burning from a holy
candle;

a wick lead by temptation;
fueled by innocence

the tiniest speck
against the giant
wave of grain that approaches...

open eyes that see nothing at all...

but an accompanied mouth
to claim such things exist.

nudge, nudge

you wake up,

pupils running
circles around
your eyeballs
till they get tired

collapse
at the bottom,
near the eyelid

and then your
mouth creaks,
opens like the
door of a basement

a yawn peeks
out, up
and at 'em

the dawn lulls
you back to sleep

i brush my teeth;
gargle and spit it
towards the sky

if i close my left eye
and squint with the right
i can see our astrology
signs align

i feel you next to me,
nudging against my tumor,
relaxed i submerge myself
in Arabic

there is no pain here,
no past hurts to haunt
the rest of my days
on this earth

and so i bring you
in closer, more closer
than i have ever brought
anyone

and with that,
comes the almighty
fear of God

i pray that we love
each other like
we loved one another
centuries ago...

never mind the
bullocks.

It won't be long, darling,--
till you're back in my life
I know we ended things
on bad terms,

You rented my face
out to a couple of
black eyes;

Told me rent was due
and tore my body in two,

Said it would be better
if I never left the house
and stayed home;
playing nurse to you
and me all day long

I was in the wrong,
so I turned to alcohol,
my acoustic guitar
and started writing songs

After what seemed like
better days rather than
bitter moments, you brought
home someone new,

A skeleton she was,
but you assured it was
just for a few months

What say did I have in the matter?

Night after night,
I could hear you both
groan and murmur
like the walls of
an old mansion;
and every now and then
a ghost would moan
and I'd bury my head
into my knees and sink
further into the darkness

I wanted out,
but it was now
two against one,

and so my body
was contorted, bent
and bruised;

I was the poor
man's exorcist

It wasn't till you both
started fighting, decided
to get married and have
a honeymoon in Hawaii

did I realize that something
terrible was growing in me

I sharped everything
I could find in the house,
knives, razors; hell,
even turned a child's
bat into a vampire's
worst nightmare

and when you two got home,
I let you have it,

the walls still speak
of your silly antics,

mortal
and futile,

as though you were
born insects but
took the form of
strong, confident humans

I put an end to all that
at a moment's notice

I'm on the run now,
but I know deep down
it won't be long till we meet again

You'll be back in my life, darling

and that's a promise

Something tells me
you never questioned
whether or not
you have a soul
resting beneath
that blanket of
thick, moist flesh

You see, ma
never sang me
a lullaby to sleep,

and now I rest with
weary bones
and crooked teeth

as though they were
toy soldiers
marching down
the streets of a ghost town

an army of woes

and sorrows stacked
so high, you'd think
the aches were
some sort of skyrise

And on, and on
the trembles speak

shaking what was never known
but could be known

if one only
went through the proper channels.

take it easy
let the poison
takes it course;
through the veins

seep like a willow,
seek
until there
is no more
desire to do so

and breathe
because
it's all you have
till the truth comes home

i walk down this street
keep to myself, head first
into shadows strewn across
the pavement; little images
for big brown eyes,

someone said you look
like the shy type, the kind
the runs away when the time's
right

and boy, were they wrong

if we are supposed
to be here, then why does
it feel like the opposite?

i ask the same questions
in class, stare at the clock
until it strikes six; the bell
signals for my grand entrance

i escape through the exit

only to find myself
knee deep in some kind
of crippling reverie;

leave finger prints
on the walls, the shells
of my limbs somewhere
on the floor

a walking oddity
given life by a
budding game designer

with the pose of an angel

i stand in your way.

ever feel
like you're
this close
from getting
your head
severed?

the body...

so neck
deep in it's
own impulses
and desires

how comedic
to call it ours

it's her body,
let her do
what she wants
with it

is like saying:

it's his
car
let him
crash into
a group
of children

the mind
and it's
desperate
need for
possession

to control,
to have and
to hold

to cherish this time
as though it
were never time at all

i say

let's watch
their wounds
bleed out
and see how desperate
they are to seal them

the infinite
is a simple speck

our complicated

mouths fumble
to spit out

don't over think it,
she said to me
as we stood
under the fluorescent
light of the post office
sign

knee deep in our plight
she kneaded knots
into my thighs, tied
me up tight

I couldn't move

I was still as a mountain
on fire

I could feel the pain of the
entire world

and they felt like insect bites

We are in harmony she
said to me, but I was too
busy checking the time,
I had somewhere to go
somewhere to be, I was
a thousand times
more important than
the land and sea

This is flesh at
the mercy of thoughts,

sight bound by the
force of darkness

I can move through
every element labeled
by Man, praise any God
without consequence,
speak a hundred languages
and understand nothing
all at once

but she held my hand
firmly, collected every
bead of sweat from my brow
and wiped it against her
skirt;

kissed me on the lips
and held me close

she whispered
don't over think it

and I was asleep
once again

hallelujah, it's halloween
our eyes are stitched shut
to hide those awful
things we've seen

they are lit
behind a burnt
orange film
screen

they play like movies,
these nightmares,
surreal and haunting

like acid drops
to the end of our
tongues

we trip like torches
towards the sun, our flames
merge into one another

we shine so bright

and burn everything
in sight,

all those hallmark cards
laid to waste, those dears
and sincerelys

now just faded
memories

thank the lord
who set every forest
ablaze

every animal
has it's fate;

a simple beating
heart is just a
red, plump
container

with a name

a man in the abyss
told me all about you

cleared up things
real quick;
and here i was wasting
so much time confused

i took a question mark
and straightened it out,--

was i too loud?

i am missing out
on your warm breath
at the moment

but aren't we the gaps
in crooked smiles anyway?

something that isn't there
has been here all along

or vice versa
ad infinitum

a woman held you
in her arms once

and fed you
till you became
plump with envy
and courage

now it's a battle
royale among
the voices

hush
you tell them
with your last breath;

an every day occurrence...

like the tongue of a
dull knife against
the sand dunes of time.

drained the snake
tonight;
it's still battered
and bruised from
the five minute fist
fight

i could go another round,

that's if you don't mind
getting kicked while you're
down

or knocked up in this
boring old town.

I vvant to be yr chocolate covered caramel,
the abrasive hush sound, obtrusive star spangled
banner, polite creeper in the rear view mirror,
the bookmark tucked betwixt
your getaway pages, the *******
and going of change in every season

Let me seep fathoms
below your loose knit fabric
like blood that refuses to dry
but instead

leaks,

splatters, and

spills

to get you high

You won't come back down
until it's time to die
and even then
you're not going anywhere

I am a dream weaver,
destined to be a misconstrued concept,
misunderstood existence, plain and simply
put: complex and self-destructive

A bomb without the hand to light it

A destiny without the God to guide it

I vvant to be yr candy coated lover,
a pristine set of swear words,
a systematic lexicon, a werewolf
in theresheep's clothing.

The absolute pure filth
splattered all over yr royal artist
canvas.

Visualize
then execute
tomorrow is
your open grave
lie in it, kiss
the walls, appreciate
the silver lining
it's all for you
every one get's
one, feel special,
uniqueness comes
in droves

with eyes closed
your heart opens

I'm inside of you
always been

because I am sound

I wake up from a nap,
and it's mid-afternoon

My phone is dead,
I forgot to charge it last night

Would my boss believe
my reason for being late?

I'm sorry sir,

but I came home to a messy room,
her ***** clothes were piled
on the edge of my bed when I got
home, but I didn't have the heart to
clean them

much less get rid of them

There was red flannel shirt
that smelled of menthol cigarettes;
Pall Mall Menthols -- her favorite

and a few tanned bras
strewn across a handful
of Hello Kitty underwear

When I saw the bloodstain
on one of them, I began to cry
and cry till I couldn't take it no more

We could've had a child

A little version of her,
a little version of me,
a treasure from the both of us

But where was she now
except at the house of a woman
who shared this exact same bed
with her?

The alcohol, the arguments,
the abandonment, and the
agonizing pain of wondering
where she was and who
she was with only destroyed
whatever little of myself I had left

There's not much I care about
in this solitary life of mine, not work,
not my things, hell, not
even my rare coins and baseball
cards come close

to what I lost when I lost
her

Do you understand my pain, sir?

Do you see why I don't feel like
making various caffeinated drinks
for busy bodies that slither
like snakes at the bottom of a well?

No, that wouldn't work at all.

I guess I'll have to say I was out
partying last night, and I left
my phone at the house
of a girl I was about to bang.

Works every time.

i was fifteen when it happened
i laid there waiting for it to end
my body was like an acorn
waiting for the squirrel to steal
it away, only to bury it deep
underground where no one
could find me;
i was numb, but do you
know that feeling
when your shoelace gets
stuck around the peddle
bar and it's been spun around
so far already that it's too late
to stop? it felt like that
but much worse

i kissed the asphalt before
my lips ever touched
another pair of human lips

i only know what shards
taste like

don't feel sorry for me
though; it's the nature of
things

you get used to the sharp
edges, and that's all you
long for

i was twelve when i died
but i no longer mourn

You don't give up
it's not in your dictionary

there is no acting dumb,
feigning ignorance,
playing dead,--

you wouldn't
know what the words meant
if you put give
and up
together anyway

it's difficult
to conceptualize,
even when everyone
around you is shouting
it from the top of their lungs;
screaming it into your heart,
begging you to do

what cannot be done

simply because

it has yet

been born

The words of a poet
can be so trite
and exhausting;

That's why I turn to
the latest scientific
discoveries;

The medical field
is ripe with beauty;

what was once unknown
is now unraveling;

I hope to never read
a word about Her,
or Him
and how a heart is broken
or mended,
ever again.

I am
sorry, my love,
lovers;--
lovees. You must
understand. I was
built to touch, caress,
hold tightly, let
go lightly, but
above all;
end your
loneliness.

The developer
thought it best
to halt progress.

I was postponed.

The fiscal year
came and
it went; and still
I was locked
in this cage of theirs
never to see
the light of day,--
your gaze, I am
incomplete.

They filled
me with guilt,
and unbearable shame;
left me here to rot
with the thought of you,
you, and you;

You whom I have yet
to love, and adore;
you always.

Am I curled up
in the corner,
afraid and alone?

This, I do not know;

I may never know.

Come find me,

behind somewhere

is where I am;

your nowhere

is my life, it's been like that

since the beginning.

***** posture,
this lady, hunched
over behind the counter
tapping at buttons,
clicks and whistles,
***** and pistols

we go bang, bang, bang
on, in and around one
another

and she's there, ringing
up products, pointing
at slideshow menus

which one is
perfect for an Atkins
diet, "The Carb-o-tastic"
she says with a mild grin

she's being sarcastic,
but no one can tell;
these days our eyes hide
behind screens, brightness
on auto-pilot, the human
race pseudo-connected

come one, this table is empty,
come all, i'm free and a loosey
goosey

the windows wiped
down, heads turned
at a ninety degree angle

appetites like magnets
directed towards red
apples

this garden of Eden
used to be the refuge
for graceful angels

now it's all in ruins,

uprooted and discarded
like ***** napkins

she coughs and signals
her youngest daughter in

and tells her to mop the floor

some ******* spilled
a full cup of tomato soup

and didn't bother to
clean it up themselves

I am being held, against my will, by 6 giant creatures in black cloaks. There's no way to get out. I shake, I fight, I gnash with teeth, I scream, and I struggle. They lead me down a dark hallway, to a room with a flickering lamp on top of a small desk. The lamp is of the portable kind, and it seems like it's about to shut off leaving me in the abyss; a total darkness that will engulf me, and in this abyss, there is the chance I may lose my soul, my self, my identity, for good. But there are two blank sheets of paper on the desk.

One black, and one white.

There is a pen in between these papers. Who knew a chair could be a luxury? This is my last hurrah, the moment to define my entire existence from here on out; it will be total blackness soon, that's all there is after the lamp gives out; the unknown, the uncertainty; there are no guarantees I may ever leave, no promises of the creatures coming back for me;

No more light.

The ink of the pen is black. Does it even matter which paper I choose? In the end, it does, because this is my life, and I have a choice, even if it's between two things.

The pen itself, much like the light, is in it's death throes. But I choose to write anyway. 3 words that will define the dark times ahead.

I write:

I needed this.

it'll click
you'll wonder
it'll click
you'll wander
it'll click

you were there..

and it was a bright,
vivid place

it clicks

and you're gone

There's a choice
whether you
want it or not;

a choice to be made

a choice to be thrown away

choices, like ragged,
1861 copper pennies;

Power sits on
the shelves,
collects dust
as it's owner

takes the blame,

tries hard to shake
the body from
shame;

a victim with a story;

an object with a name;

choices are made

let responsibility
be the reigns

and you behind the scenes,

in your own movie

or game;

the owner of
it all.

We spoke of hope
with frogs in our throats;
our pulse
leaping from one
boiled heart
to another

We stood upon
stilts, laughed like
dying hyenas;
and saw that our
lungs had made
nests in the sky

Smoke billowed
from the gaping sockets
of your skull, and I tucked
my fingers into the holes
as though they were empty
change purses

And with a little jangle here,
a little rattle there, it made you ***
a bouquet of roses from betwixt
your getaway sticks

Suddenly we were memories
all over again, unwoven seeds
planted deeply in the great abyss

Where dark was but a word,
a skinny string tied to your
*******, and it was
something we'd always remember

I croaked, and died right after;
but death was only Act 1 of
this anti-climatic nightmare

We woke up,

and with hush

upon our trembling lips,

spoke of

beliefs.

He took the blue sari
and it worm him
like a blanket of
harpooned skin.

A rope wrapped
itself around his neck
and colored his
abyss-black lips red.

It was seen as blood
to those around;
unbearably sad and
overflowing wth
pure joy.

It was his personal sand dune;
sinking into concrete waves
of the nearby animals;

He took the red sari
and covered his insides
with their hidden words;
said the present moment
was the only elusive meaning
we could depend on.

And then without warning
hushed the entire world
with his siren.

He took the gold sari
and it gave him
the music that
tears limbs of dancers apart;

and that satisfied him
to no end, but he knew
deep down his shallow waters

that the eternal dream

was just getting started...

You got to step it up;

leave this
fragile
comfort zone
of yours,

there is no more
twilight here

Write what you want
to read

even if those eyes
don't clearly see

Your choices
are blurs on
the television screen

You chose to be honest
with yourself

Your
self

will

remember
this

You go it alone;

but in this sea
of loneliness
there are plenty
of visible hands
to hold

Wish for more
wishes; cry
as much as you
dare;

You no longer
have to try

Because no one
can tell you

what to do,
or what not to do,

without

telling a lie.

The afternoon is like
the bristles of a broom;
I am swept away by
the dance of
grass and blade

If the trees could
speak, our hearts
would hear of
the atrocities our
bodies committed
while we were asleep

Tomorrow is neither
here nor there

I wake up, brush my teeth
rub each arm down with
lotion, and light my
lips with ruby red
matchsticks

I open my mouth
and set the world
ablaze

The evening is a cardinal
resting on the perch
of a Northern Red Oak

and as it sings, my age sinks
deeper, and deeper
into the abyss of my skull

where memories sit like stones,
the voices trying to claw their way out;

going on and on
about what history means,
and has meant to others

As the night approaches,
a death throe emerges;

the grass places soft kisses
against my bare feet,
and I cannot
see color, but feel
it

in everything.