I think often. It's a habit I can't seem to break like a gambler with his gambling and a priest with boys' knees or what brands red A's on our chest. I think we're a bit too trusting and I know we're a tad naive. I think it's best we love each other from the safety of three feet. This finite planet and our infinite greed pair up wondrously said the axeman to the tree.

The world that has made us has gone from a fine fitting coat to an ugly old shoe. We say we've outgrown, but what of the sea? Let's poison it. What of the the ice caps? Let 'em melt like a bowl of forgotten ice cream on my coffee table. I have more important things to devour. Gotta run, culture's waiting.

So I follow the rabbit down the hole wait I stop! Curiosity killed the cat I bought with a two dollar bill my grandmother gave me as payment the first time I cleaned that labyrinth of a cellar beneath her house: musty, dark, repressive I thought I was inside of my ten year old self then through the dark I can hear a rustling, "God?" I plead, my hands clutching the windex. No answer, there never is so I head into the shadows when I see the rabbit and this time I bolt for the hole but my head hits a wall. I concluded that life was a cruel joke as cynicism ensued.

I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't dance, couldn't sing because boys like girls, and girls like boys and boys don't cry, but I cry. As does the gambler and the priest and the woman on the horizon. I could have bet it was an angel and the gambler, he did. She steps into the reef and we hear her song and I know that she's me and I'm him and he’s all of us and the reef is that cruel joke I learned in the basement chasing rabbits but it's awful pretty from here is a warning to you when you think God is dead and death is synonymous to halt:

I'll swim inside this reef 'til the day I die. Water slipping through my fists and I'm yelling no I'm whispering no one's got a verb for trying to help. Water's to my neck but I'm not stopping. The coral ends here where I can finally sink sink sink my body in the trenches, spread a dustier me across the oceans, fill Earths' blood, a mass of veins and rocks and steel blemishes with my own maze of veins and thoughts and inauthenticity…


♐ ♐ ♐


Bury me naked cause where they say we're all headed headed it's gonna be hot hot hot like a medics sweat dripping down his nose as he beat beat beats on her chest but she's too big to get through. Too big, too fat Lady Liberty's choking on fries we're the world's laughing stock, the UN's singing jest for me, jest for me, jest at Mother Nature's giving way to political pressure same as Gods giving way to backwater pleasure and curses, a moment of weakness but 14 billion years? He’s old.

It's 2011 and more people hate hate hate from pin ****** in the ocean spewing bile in the deep, now whose fault is that, really? We're all shallow like my lagoon, my tropical retreat where there's no oil. No God. No smiles or tears. Can't sing, can't dance...can only be me. Who's gonna say that they're one in the same? Heaven's not a cloud and Hell's nicer than you think and I do. I think often.

Being alone with you is like being alone.
But being alone is like being nothing.

I love to hold your hands while we hike through the crevasses
especially when you could fall and I'd have to save you.

Rocks are coldest when compared to your hands
I think as we break contact to scale yet another.
My favorite lyrics become distant rhythms
the moment your mouth moves and song bleeds out.

I think the catchiest song
is the sound of your lexicon.

But you're not singing,
you are simply talking

about that moment when the cigarette, dribbling with smoke, pulls away
from your perfect lips, the lowest of which hangs in a perpetual pout.
That is the soft line of flesh I would like for my tongue to skate upon.
Pirouettes are crisp and cantilevers are hopeful but I would much prefer

To enter a deep outside edge
while performing an open stroke.

But that is slicing ice, not kissing.
And we are climbing rocks, not kissing.

*What's the difference?

Being on dirt's level
looks nice
when you're
six feet under.

I just want to break even.
Or break your fingers.

Whatever the Lord,
let's me do.

I'm hoping he's feeling vengeful today,
too.

I looked around for a knife. Remembered that night.
Wanted to forget my promise.  Remembered where the blade was, just out of sight.
resolved to write. fill an empty blank white
with words that might
let me sleep tonight.

Hell, what can i say,It's always been this way.
we connect randomly.(is this seat taken?)
break off.(stupid boy|girl segregation)
diverge. (across bus aisles)
recconnect. (hugs before you leave, subtle smiles)
risk.(hopped, hid, rode again in my seat those last few miles) .
create boundaries.(best friend, I'm with her, you're with him)
overstep(i daydream of you...)
overstep.(i dreamed of you last night...)
overstep (i dreamed of you last night again...)
recreate.(i ignore you when you speak, what was that last thing you said?)
walk on blind faith, a little too quickly.(we took two days to talk this over, two weeks to get into bed)
remember we are friends amidst all this ( i did)
and suddenly all the feelings, (or thoughts spinning in my head)
the ones that are thretening to surge freely through me, (undo me)
no restraint, (undid)
threating to take over my actions, my heart, my affections (am i mislead?)
(theyve already strangled my reason)(I'm brainless, because of you, undead)
experience a subtle but calming shift( smootheeee like thisssss)
when i remember(what we said)
I suddenly understand(this isn't wonderland)
why it is I don't want to leave(friends fight, we are friends)
you mean so much more to me(than i could even begin to express)
than emotions high arguing and a dozennn days ive cried( they are nothing compared to it)
you are my friend, (im beginning to think best)
and well, i just... i want you here, (just like this)

Probably the third time that I've prepared for the worst
can you see how much i hurt? do you know that i still thirst?
sometimes for my own blood, sometimes for my tears,
ive thirsted for what i've feared, for what seems now many years,
i contradict my self, and  twist my words and slay
the things ive said before, with the words i speak today
watch the way i walk, and wallow where i wait,
for things my malice stalks,  for people that i hate
wander neath the willow, weary, weeping,
wide eyed, my thoughts keeping,
me wishing i wasnt awake, when i should be sleeping

cliche ****
i wrote clishe
she corrected it
irked me
there was a nerve
it hit
tonight she shirked me
off like a shirt that slipped
from her shoulders.
maybe, when there was a doubt, i should have done more than told her,
i shouldnt have done anything more than hold  her,
maybe it was a mistake, to think, our love might make
a bad decision okay, that things wouldnt change,
maybe break,
i dont know what to say
but ill fight, do what it takes
to face
everything
that i want to
escape
because somehow, this was fate.
Bleed to keep what you love,
before it's to late. . .

She was as smooth as Tarantino dialogue.
And you could tell she was dangerous.
But she seemed more content to dagger me with words
than shoot me with the guns at her hips;
maybe that's why they were penned with a point
and drawn in a deep black ink.
I thought she wanted to tie me down
'cause that's what she wanted me to think.
She talked on how she'd change her ways
and how she could help me do the same;
she spoke of working towards a living
rather than dying like a slave.
She led me to my own room,
to sheets that once were bright and red
but had now faded to maroon rust
like the blood of those long dead.
She showed me every country in the world
without us leaving from my den.
She brought me every star in the night sky
without ever reaching up a hand.
She took me around the world
in much less than eighty days,
but she was gone when the morning came.
She took my money, drugs and faith.

Giving up,
giving in
& going down
hard.

On the gas.

Oh you know,
not giving a ****
&
flying down the free way.
Like a bad *****.

Till I crash
back
into your arms.

The race is over.