Mid July nights
You roll over
And we're in a new city
I taste the adrenaline on your fingertips
As we taste each other in a new city

It is home just for one night
I wish I could call your eyes home again
But lately you're in another galaxy
Somewhere far away from here
If I ever found you,
Would you let me stay?

i worry about a lot of things
things happening too fast
and time passing too slow
about everything i've done
and about everything
i haven't gotten to yet
i worry about you
that i don't know
what any of this means
and if you're planning
on doing the same thing
that he did to me
i worry, because i'm not sure
that i can handle it again.

Your dagger pierced through my skin

I feel it emptying itself, the poison surrounds

Beneath the encasing of my skin

Lies a tortuous ordeal.

Never finding myself, never finding me

Just a mannequin, an empty shell

The dagger releases a seal

A past, unknown.

Keep looking for words, they're in there (somewhere)

Though I look good, unaware, happy

Fear it, cuz its only a layer

Just... a layer.

Beneath this skin, beneath these flesh and bones

About 6 feet under,

You might find it

Find me

The poisonous dagger, has done nothing to me

**** me? No

Released a seal

Released the truth.

I am me.

I've always been me.

burn the light of fire
and wax the ears of injustice.

chide the moon
and bid ado to the reckless sun.

count the blessings of misfortunes
and wave verbs in the air--
breathing the hopeful breaths of married sandals

Label the pains of a billion rain drops and fawn the feathers
of a nightingale over the glory of failed
triumphs known as yesterday.

break the hands of a wristwatch and make a ******* of time--
for through the God in Satan was how Earth was won.

Life came,
It’s own purpose a mystery,
But I saw green leaves
And I felt the magic of soft days;
I shouted my song of happiness,
And in a sentimental movie,
I discovered my meaning.
I charged the earthquake,
Flattened the riot, plugged the volcano.
Life hung back, just out of sight,
Not caring whether my effort
Was indolent or right.

Then life confessed itself,
Dragging me through the muddy streets,
And just as I found it too much to bear,
Just as I came to know life, the predator,
And began to grieve my sentence,
Life showed me more sentimental theater
And I cried for myself,
And imagined truth and independence.
But life, incognizant, came again to the gate;
It mired me in the doorway of my opportunity,
It starved my children
And ignored my dire straits.
I was a prisoner in it.

Then I discovered life thriving
In burrowing beetles and worms,
As happy there as in me.
But I had lived out my screenplay;
I praised the author, and died earnestly.