what is worth my time?
how can I determine the worth of something with no meter?
a second looking in his dark eyes is suspended
an 'hour' 'crafting' drinks is an eternity
a paintbrush lets seconds slip like red splashes on my new pants
indigo ink on light paper that crinkles when my hand presses
slows it to a crawl
screeching tires smashed headlight tense
forever
crash in our house
sheets of rain running with a crying brown haired girl
we sit and wait
and this so called time sits with her and runs from me
all of this is precious
my mind cannot comprehend the objective nonsense that is time
but it can twist anything it is given with time
that is nonsense, what beautiful nonsense

he lays next to me
breathing softly
broad shoulders, curly hair
striped comforter laying
heavy on him
all tension removed
folded inside himself
safe at last

divine diligence
pursing of the lips
digging in the dry dirt
grasping for rough roots
of the mind
toying with the temptress
of time
gazing at her long legs
they simply go on and on
her hazy eyes that swirl
with closely-held promises
of warm, wet tomorrows
soaked in sunlight
dipped in easy laughter

closure was the curtain draw
to the black letters scattered
on my screen
closure looked much different for me
while his curled up nicely into a box
shoved away in the attic of electric complacency
a roar of praise for his due diligence
crashed onto my deaf ears
my body escapes me
closure must bend around my bruises
must swell to compensate phantom limbs
that breach my boundaries
because a body remembers,
imprints sensations into the skin
so closure can never truly cling to it

I remember how time slid off
your bare shoulders
like an old skin
shed in the moonlight
and I remember
how we cleansed our souls with laughter
and found language to speak,
sometimes in awkward tender confessions,
of desire and an urge for knowing
one moment terribly intimately
with another

claw at my skin
cause this can't be my body
these selfish pieces of flesh
sing that they must jump off me
claw at my skin
cause the bubbles that swell
hold horrors in their glistening exterior
these drift & POP inside me
coating, singeing
the only thing that soothes
these burns is
repetition repetition repetition
claw at my skin
cause repetition can steal a life
away
there are only so many
stripes you can award yourself
claw at my skin
to forget this selfishness as well

I need
to fill these ever
expanding chasms in my head
tousle the thoughts around
til my bumbling fingers
are numb and worn
with bright buzzing static
that forgets its purpose
I need
to breathe in
this muggy recycled air
remember
I can close the blinds
to wide prying eyes
and the tides of the ocean
ebb and flow lazily
absent of desire
nor roaring with passion
just smudged with charcoal
in a fit of fury by god