You
speak the words written on the hidden parts of my skin
then lick your lips to taste them.

Empty
lungs grasp for inhalation
still have space to gasp at the halation of our own creation.

Yet
forbidden from the surface ****** to the depths
where forceless purpose is slowly eroding
the dark and foreboding loathing
I have found floating within myself.

Buried
in the mud of the mundane
then swept under the rug of the claimed sane
now ashamed to admit that I've done the same thing.

Through
the heaviest darkness of my heart
and the blinding light of my brain
every time I get the chance
I use all my breath just to whisper your name.

You're too high strung wound like a top, but not well spun.
What are you, sprung?
You're too well hung to act this young.
So what if she loves every song that you've sung?
It's just because she's obsessed with the grooves in your tongue,
now,
move in the sun and taste it.

Today is beautiful and I'll be ****** if you waste it getting wasted, let's face you're too content with being complacent.

Your placement and current situation are not your destination.
However,
don't be anxious you know your knowledge is ancient and none of this "ain't ****".
Take note of the double negative.
**Anything.
Is.
Everything.

If you happen to ask what one half of me thinks of other
I would ponder upon the perplexity,
that to think less of me would mean that I don't think of me at all.

Lonely.
Darker.

Seething.
Blacker.

Slowly seeping,
deeper into the ether,
toward the sleeping creature.

The Keeper of Neither.

I can wash it off but it's all for naught,
It's in my skin now.
Spent too long on the wrong end of upside down.
Never have I ever made
or heard a sadder sound
than when I finally got a grip
just to watch it still slip
and shatter on the ground.

Am I lost or just waiting to be found?

So here I am sitting in my throne of obsidian,
drinking damnation as I dine on oblivion.
Self proclaimed king with a paper mache crown.

Am I lost or just waiting to be found?

A dagger,
tip tentatively dipped in blood

a meager droplet at most


hardly heavy handed



a playful pin *****




the implication is clear





a duel to the death.

I fell in love with a girl named Hope,
as she wrapped her cold hands around my throat.
And while I choked, I wrote "let's elope..."
She replied,
*"Nope. Even though that'd be dope,
I only came for what's owed. So, here's your last smoke and six feet of rope."

As soon as you heard the rain,
you came in like a hurricane.

                                             Destroyed everything

and claimed I was to blame.

Then didn't even try to clean up what's left,
just moved the mess from one room to the next.

We're oh so close in our hearts and souls
but
our minds are so distant
might as well be antiscians.
Even though I see you in my nightly visions,
and you cross all my thoughts with capital Ts,
and I dot all your eyes with kisses from butterflies.
I know your disguise is comprised completely of lies
like both of your faces are living 2 separate lives.

In the darkness I scream
but
I don't speak.
In the darkness I dream
but
I don't sleep.
All I hear is the clock

tick-tocking
and it's
sick mocking.

I think it is laughing at me, for being half as happy
as I claim that I am.
You can only place so much blame on a man
before you find him laying in the sand,
thinking he should stayed when he ran.
So now I'm feeling dim
but
not quite dull.
Which means my mind is sharp
but
something is wrong with my *soul.

This is my oasis in the fog.
I was baptized in these waters
and I don't even believe in God.
But now;
my sanctuary is tainted barely
as you throw your rocks in my pond.

After three or four the ripples still,
can't even touch the shore
like an infant child reaching for their feet for the first time.

Clutching ... Grasping ... ******* ... Gasping ...

Searching for the lady bugs to fight against these aphids.
How could say this isn't where the rain hits
when I've never heard a single one of my songs on your playlist?

...Memories fade like a fragrance...

Or so dreamt the cool cat that slept
on the warm hood of a suburban in his suburban hood.
Born in a summer haze and died just the same.

Will you come sit by my side at the piano
and criticize the way I turn the pages?

Because kings are rulers but can't measure a thing,
all you can do is sit and count your treasure in vain.
Heavy lies the crown but don't let it weigh you down.

I feel oddly godly in this mortal skin of mine.
Sure I bleed like a human but my colors are true.
Not crimson red or royal blue.
Hell I mean, they aren't even cowardly yellow or envious green,
rather transparent; unseen.

Now I know how it feels
to splatter and shatter
like raindrops on the windshield.

Too intense and immense I can barely take it,
I quickly recoil like the foot that breaks forth
from the warmth of your blanket.

Are these poems
Or love letters?
I suppose there is seldom a difference
When it comes to people like us
Convectional affection
Love conceived but left unborn
Never to come to fruition
A mutual decision
At least that what I tell myself
But I dreamt of you again
Laying in the soft grass by the still waters
Like you've always been
Though I have avoided that place for some time
Call this my homecoming
My shining armor now tarnished
My sword and shield worn free of their varnish
Skin garnished with scars
I hold neither regret nor shame
That everything has changed so much
But will you love me the same
Even though I am not such?

Horrific scenes of things unseen,
haunt my dreams with terrifying screams.

                                     Breath taking sight with colors vibrant and bright,
                              is the guiding light to my thoughts through the night.

Laying in a cold sweat my sheets soaking wet,
and I'm willing to bet I haven't even slept yet.

                                       Sound asleep in my bed with pillow under head,
                          loving that I never bled from everything that's been said

Tossing and rolling, not wanting whoever is next to me to hold me
I want you only and I need you solely

                              Cuddled with my princess, finally came to my senses.
                                                 No more defenses, just tickles and pinches.

Sick, broken hearted and thoughts always darkened,
don't know why we parted or how this all started.

                                     Calm, cool, collected, not defensive but protected.
                       Wrongs have been corrected and the right choice selected.

Overwhelmingly stressed and equally depressed,
I'm such a mess I have nothing left.**

                                                *Cup overflowing with smiles both glowing,
                              happy in knowing we don't know where we're going.

I educate the ignorant,
     but am not a teacher

I spread the truth,
     but am not a preacher

I fight for my life,
     but am not a soldier

I shape my future,*
     *but am not a sculptor

Everything that you are seeing
Everything that I am being
Is the only thing I can
Fore I am, solely what I am

                  ...A man...

I can clear these fence posts in one jump now...

But I remember the days when I would have to peek through it's cracks to catch a glimpse of the magical world that lay just outside them.

Stepping foot on grounds that haven't been touched by any shoes of mine in quite some time now...

But I remember the days when they had lights on side of them and I would jump higher and higher to try and make them brighter and brighter.

Sitting on that old swing set with my knees almost in my chest now...

But I remember the days when my feet dangled at the bottom of my legs reaching for the ground but never reaching it.

Standing in a field that's borders are clear because it's empty and plain now...

But I remember the days when the blackberry bushes covered near half of it's grass and I carved out a path to my first sanctuary that sat in the very back.

Awkwardly walking up those tiny random stairs fully bending down to slide my hands across the rails now...

But I remember the days when they were just waist high, the perfect size and I'd fly up them hitting each step with flawless stride.

Ducking under the monkey bars to avoid the blunt force trauma of smacking my head, I am much taller than them now...

But I remember the days of when I would climb onto the shoulders of friends to hang from them for as long as my fading grip would allow me.

Resting my weeping head on the this picnic table that is obviously too small for the likes of me now...

But I remember the days when I'd stand with ferocity on that table top and rain down my terror on Beth and Peggy Sue like any good Godzilla would do.

In a world where everything is instant and constantly fast paced, time seems slower in this place; untouched by age.

These walls and halls still echo my childhood laughter. As my now calloused hands capture my, adult sized, tears I silently thank whoever spent the years keeping this piece of history an unseen mystery to the ever flowing and changing universe.

No matter what turn my path takes I'll always remember the days when nothing could make greater escapes.

This man's weather worn face sits eye to eye with the unforgiving world now...

But behind the barrier of memories I am still a boy...

Spying on the non believers and teachers through fences that bordered my secret lair running up and down random stairs stomping my light up shoes on each step that rests just beyond a rusted swing set with chains as long as the sky so I felt like I could fly climbing mount bestfriend just to hold on for dear life like the monkey bars are as high as stars dropping down on top of the world and letting out a roar to scare the girls followed by belly laughter that shook the rafters....

That world has been morphing and contorting for quite awhile but I still smile

Because back then... I ruled it
In the very same way I do today.

The road is long and rough,
                    but it's ok;
These shoes are brand new.
The forest is dark and ominous,
                    but it's ok;
My candle is bright.
The rain is pouring and painful,
                    but it's ok;
I have my coat.
The wind is powerful and cold,
                    but it's ok;
My heart pumps warm blood.
                    So its ok,
                      it's ok...
              it's ok...
       it's ok...
**I'm ok.

Following dark roads all night
looking for bright lights
to spark excitement and wonder where life went
the further we break from the burden of the world
the thinner the barrier between us and the heavens
I can almost reach out and touch them
while were on these hilltops
dancing like demons and devils
letting the magic dipped paper slip split
my mortal mind from my immortal soul
as the past slithers through the crowd like a snake
lurking in the grass only rearing its head to boast its own self loathing
but being so lost in the bass and the movement
makes me not even close to human
makes me more immune then
a deaf man trying to tune in or an ignorant man assumin'
and just as me and her return from our voyage
mother earth greets us
with the most beautiful sight
these one time eyes have ever seen so pristine
like a dream as a cloud drops to kiss the crisp hilltop
once again everything stops
and I thought
even witnessing the rot that she got
from scraping the bottom of the barrel
and lapping up the sin couldn't dampen the thin grin on my chin
so smile back baby
because not even all the cumpsters, so called friends or Christopher Walken himself
can stop us.