I'm tongue-tied
I've lost my words
What's to say?
Nothing
ing
ing
is not enough of an emotion to wake me up.

I'm too used to falling into nothing
I'd like the impact
Pain is at least
Something.

I'm too familiar with too many questions and tangled excuses of why and how or what to do next or cause and effect and the point, I suppose, is that
here, now
is ALL there is,
is all there is,
is all there is,
and that thought could be all you ever become, your world could be a brain and nothing else, or this poem could be your moment, or you could read this poem and think of something else and be nowhere, you could see your reflection on this screen and be staring infinitely back and forth at yourself between you and your reflection and then what? Was there a purpose?

This isn't a poem, it doesn't take talent to ramble. This isn't a poem, three monkeys could sit with a computer and in an infinite universe this poem would one day be written without me. This isn't anything to remember or forget, it just is, and isn't that the point?

I awoke from near-slumber to smile
about the color of your eyes, how
the sunlight makes them dance into a
slow stream of warm honey-
reflecting mine into pools
reflecting mine as they wander to arms
that embrace

You watched my eyes wander
and called me wanderer as I danced in circles
around you, away, returned to you
standing as shelter with
arms that embrace

Free, my skin laughs to touch yours
Melt, the sky into pools around us
Cry, heavy burdens released to your shoulder
and burrowing into your arms
that embrace me
You, the boy that once chased me
Me, the girl going crazy
Us, two caged birds set free

I fall back asleep to the thought of your heartbeat...

in it seeped from around you all around you the world grew and
you pressed your nose up against the glass to try to see it, and cried
because you couldn't see it like you did
(was it only two days, hours, minutes ago?)
couldn't touch it, couldn't move
trapped in incantations what is ego
forego free go trees grow leaves show green
no
soft imaginings
hard, sharp imagining things
too bright to see, hearing things
how do legs move, teach me,
don't look at me
you pause-
you've been pausing for a long, long time.

I am, you are...
thinking... that you know where your heart is and how
to stay out of the eye of the storm,
or how to look away from it and
all those things that are so easy to get frustrated about
                                                                ­                                screaming into
pillows falling
                                        faster into
light
dark
close
open


SHOUT: you found the things the world threw away
the light of day
                                             showered in
blood spattered
                                                       ­               men with their faces down
clouds
gray
open -
red -
close


STAND

even blind you know the world never started spinning on its own
you could sit and wait for the river to drown you
or be the first to reach out

it takes one

the wall is tipping she said
she stood, he crouched, she laughed
this height suits you she said

the world was spinning and they stood despite it
they stood because of it
the world was still they always said
meanwhile crawling
running hiking into the bleakest desert
the deepest tree-cave
now that i see no one i see myself she said

she ran
she ran like the world couldn't spin without her feet,
like the moon needed her sweat and sparks to grow again,
she ran like she couldn't stay still enough to look into
another pair of eyes

her feet collapse every night, the same every night,  the same every night, the same every night, the same every night

i've always feared patterns, she said

When I think about the things I did to you, it's like I've died and woken up at the same time
like crying for the first time, it's been so long since I've felt anything but this when your face catches me by surprise
like remembering a solemn moment of fingers slipping off the tablecloth without touching,
signifying nothing or so you (and even more so I) thought

once

many times

like realizing rain after you've been soaked through three layers of clothes, and having thoughts free of scorn even though it might be just like the rest of them to call tears a downpour.....
.......
So dramatic, and oh, the irony of every statement I could think of
like magnets, we seem to cause problems when we get too close
although you don't seem to notice anymore

Sometimes...
The world closes you into its arms and you get freaked out.
You always wanted that feeling of being held... but it isn't worth losing your sight...

Sometimes things are dark.
One wonders, while they watch
another blindly ***** at air,
what one might find if they
adjusted.

Sometimes the air is black,
black like behind your eyesockets,
filling your lungs like the tar you swore to never touch-
so deep it seems to seep from your very pores,
seep..... and harden.
So much for flying, there goes your monstrous visions of
avoidance
You are the statue, frozen, groping blindly at nothing for eternity
(not that you would have necessarily moved very far)



Still, though, your tears stain the pictures of people you miss. To you the world is boundless, but you seem to see it differently than all of them...

Still, though, MY tears stain your pictures. To me the world is boundless, but I seem to see it differently than all of you...