I fall into river
the water is wet, I'm begging
for it to make me feel
the way we do when we're together

I fall into sky
unafraid I fall, I'm singing
a soft birdsong
with familiar tickles in my tummy
This is nowhere close
to you and me

I fall into silence
at the end of day
stunned in gratitude.

His eyes are blue even
though they're as black as
a rainy night
I look at him and feel the rot inside my chest,
the imperfections of my habits
I lie bare before him
and he watches with care
and says
you are the moon of my night

My colors are changing into ugly shades of pink
and the nausea is kicking in but wait
hold on, stay right there it'll get
better? worse? what am I dragging you in this for?
Exit please. Oh yes, the
colors they change when the sky dampens
late after lunch too soon after dinner
while I belch my mother walks by
as she tells me to pull my **** together, oh
the good old days haven't gone past me just yet
I sometimes think of my father
and how I should try loving him for
smiling at me and calling my mother a *****
while I tried hard to sleep
Sometimes I think I love my mother way too much
so much that I try to socialize and then I
somehow realize that was an ouch idea
Pessimism is more honest because the optimist
is lying to everyone.

Clench your fists against my
vulnerability
ask me for what I want
more so, for what I need
and deny me my release

watch me enlightened
in all my glory
and watch me still.

Why don't you rid yourself of these shiny
achievements
and sit back without ignoring for once
the blue light you bleed upon the sun

Why don't you want to be more of nothing
and less of you?

You smile like you do not want to be hurt
you are afraid of not being responsible
to the children
who you pretend to garner
and guide, knowingly,
pretentiously into a world
you have woven
with such subtle doubt

You cry yourself to bed
after you put your only daughter to sleep
and look into the black night ahead
with silver moons under your eyes
tired and dreaming of love

You watch a film and smile a sober smile
then walk slowly to clean up after
dinner
and stare a stolen gaze
like your eyes are not yours and your
reflection isn't yours to stare
at the glass to the right of your misery, somewhere
numb to your touch
and comprehending

the arrested state of your being
your soul,
somewhere up in the september clouds
just above your home sweet home

call me at the midnight hour by the rainy window
we will watch the blue stars come alive
shooting down
into the late december sea