I'm caught up in the street lights once again.
I feel like I'm a titan at the peak of Mt. Olympus.
My head feels like I'm violent, but my mind is violins,
as I shade my eyes from the sunrise from way back when I was 9 or 10.

We could stare forever at these break lights or look through blurry pictures that we took on all those late nights.

You looked so happy even though I knew we had a cast on
but you can only see your face because I forgot to turn the flash on.

We ran outside that night, we noticed it was "too cold for our feet" snow.

We kept it up and gave it our best, but the times were hard to keep so now they seem more like keepsakes.

Is that a cursing or a blessing?
They say that life is worth the learning, but they want me to teach the lesson.

50% white noise. 50% radio.

Those are the thoughts of a quiet broken heart that sits in the passenger seat.

My driver wants to **** me...but I'm not really that scared though.

Tell me I'm alive.
Tell me I'm living.
Tell me that I'm not alone in this world.

You say you can't sing...but as long as you're singing, I will know I'm more than last December.

I wore a wristwatch once to cover something from my Mother.

Even if she saw it, she'd probably believe it was from skateboarding.

I don't skateboard.

My heart's a house and you're a room I never go in.
I still remember what it looks like.
The walls are red and it smells nice.
You could never pick your favorite song.
I bet it sounds amazing.
I wish I knew what it was.
Maybe I could sing it to you and you could love me the same.
Just like clouds shaped like *****.

Out of place?
You always seemed to laugh.

I still write poetry from time to time. Unlike you.

You used to, but you don't now.

My Coke still tastes more like *****.
My room still feels more like a fortress.
My heart is still pumping blood for no reason.

I still can't wash the dishes without getting soaking wet.

I still smoke more than I should.

You still hate all the things you used to, without reason.

You still feel as sad as you once did, but you have to mask it much better now.

I'm still that same kid.

I'm still the same faithful dreamer.

I still get scared of the dark sometimes.

I still wish I could talk to you, but now, every time I do, it isn't the same.

I still think about dying.

I still read over our conversations.

and I still hate you.

Life goes on.

Like an endless spiral of frayed thread hanging from your favorite dress.

Off the flower petal of the floral pattern that blows in the wind above your knees.

I'm going to write a novel about the one time we danced alone in my room.

We sat on my bathroom floor and you looked me in the eye and I was trying to figure out what you were thinking.

It took me awhile but finally, I realized you we're trying to think of anybody else that you would rather be there than me.

And you stared in my eyes.

5 seconds.
10 seconds.
30 seconds.
1 minute.
2 minutes.
and you couldn't think of anybody.

You wanted to so bad.
You wanted to think of anybody else that wasn't me.
But you couldn't.
And you hated it.
Because you did the one thing you said you would never do again.

You let me in.

You let me into the cage of doves that encased your glass heart.
And all I did was sit and watch it.
I became a dove.
You never let me out of your sight.
You wanted to make sure I didn't break it.
Then you decided to look away.
You looked back and I was still in the same spot, admiring you.
You still didn't trust me so I gave you my wings.
I didn't care about them now that I had you.
I didn't need the sky if you were on the ground.

You smiled and I loved you like breathing in mountain air.

I took that feeling and put it in a jar.
And I watched the firefly dance.
And I watched it die from lack of air.
And I watched your glow vanish.

Now the flowers are blooming.
Petals are falling off your hips and I'm still falling off your eyes, in the same way that leaves fall off the trees in Autumn.

Somehow, a night with no sleep and a cigarette reminds me of you.

In the same way that the headlights of a car read the lines of a road, I read your harlequin lips.

And I swear on all things that are good, you were the softest thing I kissed.

Wrapped in a thin layer of ivory.

I find my watch timeless.

I drip alcohol on some nights but not as many as "at first" but still enough as "end it" and I can never feel what it meant and how I meant it was to mean it. So, for now, so far, I've been taking my rib cage and hoping the bones don't break as I expand my lungs for a fresh breath of new skin and flesh. My tongue rams the back of my teeth in hopes to slither a word in edge wise as the bite becomes a copper numbness in the back of my throat.

I hope you know what decade I lost the hue in my eyes as it turned black and white like piano keys to my heart and soul.

I sit on the piano bench with skeleton fingers wondering why the graveyard is so quiet.

I look at old pictures and photographs and I replay moments in my head that sink into my chest like a ship that's been abandoned.

Someday or sometime soon.

I hope it never ends.

And I hope the flowers on your dress bloom again when Spring comes next year.

We found something worse than hate and love,
something that spawns when a heart is lost
and we thought it didn't exist, but it does
and we got hit with it's sun like the moss of a tree.

So now every time I fall for another one
it feels more like the ending of summer
and less like my favorite season.

Our mouths are loaded pistols
with golden bullet words that have no real direction,
spraying upwards towards a cloudless night sky,
but they never quite hit the stars.

I picked you out like a flower in a field
where the rain clouds stay,
where the ruiners of all good things play,
with temporary wars between you and I.

I moved your eyes like a chess piece
to wherever I walked in the room
so I checked into checkmate
so you could destroy me.
I thought you would have moved your rook
to E6, ending in a stalemate and us in love forever...

But you said "I'm so sorry" right before knocking my king over.

I hate your checkered past. I'm going to play solitaire.

Let's get high and listen to Alt-J.

Let's see if we can reach the breaking point and still love our Mom's.

Let's go to the moon and play solitaire together.

I always told you that if you disappeared, my atmosphere would fail.

Well last night you left and I got drunk and my insides became my outsides and I stopped worrying about how cold my basement was.

Let's take that trip you've been wanting to take.

Let's go far away from here or any place that looks like here.

Let's eat a bowl of Cheerios sitting on the hood of your car while we stare at stars.

Let's freestyle battle using unicorns as our subject.

Let's sit in the back seat of your car and fall asleep.

Let's wake up and us still be together.

Let's go draw birds and realize how much we **** at drawing.

Let's find an abandoned building and have a picnic.

Let's write a song sitting on a beach watching the sun rise.

Let's stop acting like something is wrong and start acting like we know what we know.

Let's realize that love does conquer all but only if you want it to.

Let's buy 50 tape players from a pawn shop and hang them in a forest so the trees are happy.

Let's stop hurting each other.

Let's stop hurting ourselves.

Let's watch a movie.

It doesn't matter what it is because we'll be looking into each others' eyes on the couch, occasionally trading secrets and smiling and kissing and you running your hands through my hair because you know I love that.

Let's be mysterious to everyone but each other.

I want you to tell me that you're not actually excited about going to a fancy restaurant, but the cigarette you're going to smoke after.

I want you to tell me you don't want to see me today because you would rather fall asleep.

It's OK.

I want that.

Let's find a tree to sit under where the sunset looks perfect every day.

Let's not get mad at each other or think something's wrong when we don't talk for days.

Let's know that we will be together no matter the petty moments.

Let's kiss until our heart beats are in sync.

Let's go to a wedding and see how many numbers we can get only to prank call them while having *** later that night.

Let's sit on a roof and complain about the pizza guy not getting here fast enough.

Let's learn how to break dance on a yoga mat that we painted to look like Twister.

Right hand red.
Left hand blue.

Then let's kiss until the atmosphere fails and we die.

I did something tonight that I absolutely hated, but I know it had to be done and I believe I will be better off because of it. Sun minus clouds.

and I hated myself for it. Fear and Loathing alone on a broken couch in a dark basement.

My best friends we're supportive of me, like a screaming Titanic opposite.

Even when they knew I was wrong and I openly admitted to it.

One in particular said: "Who are we to tell you that you're wrong? You're happiness should not ever be based about what we think."

and

I

replied:

"Who are you? You are my best friends. You care more about me than I do..."

You care about me more than I do.
You care about me more than I do.
You care about me more than I do.
You cre about me mr than I d
Yc at m m th I d
Ym.

Thank you.

I remember every right word and the scars they left.
I remember every bottle that broke on the floor.
I remember how I swore I tried my best.
I remember how you swore I could do more.
I remember how we knew our time was coming.
I remember how our watches would snap at the band.
I remember how the sea gave way to our ship,
But I couldn't bare to leave the sand...

I do believe that believers exist,
but I fear that I'm the last one left.
I took a shot in the dark, I missed.
I hit my heart again instead.

I do not think I'm winning,
I just don't want to be confused.
I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders
as my bones break and skin starts to bruise.

I know no one can live forever,
but I wish that I could pick and choose.
I swear I'd be the first in line.
I swear you'd be position number two.

I walk a fine line of words I write.
I point my fingers and accuse.
You take the ink away from me.
You scream "this ink ain't being used."

I wrote a million letters.
I wrote a sad story or two.
I wrote too many dots of silence,
I wrote too many "I" and "You's."
I drew too many pictures.
I erased so many things straight from the heart.
I told you one too many times,
"I swear we'll never grow apart..."

I remember every right song and the lines they left.
I remember every teardrop that crashed on the floor.
I remember how I swore it was just a guess.
I remember how you swore I'd never learn.
I remember how we knew our smiles were fading.
I remember how our touches would stop at the hand.
I remember that ground that allowed us to walk on
But I couldn't bare to see us land...

I just want to turn in my journal as evidence I'm psychotic and live the rest of my life in an insane asylum making origami cranes.

This isn't really a poem.

My head is this galaxy of exploding stars and swirling planets, though every glimmering star you see behind my blue eyes that lost their blue color years ago are shooting stars that long died out.

That's why when you wish on me, I can't come through anymore.

I am a walking hollow.

Somewhere between the parking lot where I stood and knew I would never smoke a single cigarette to the roof top of a house where I smoked a whole pack in a night because I thought that's what would make things better.

Somewhere between hanging on every word you say and hanging from a noose made from sketchy rope.

Somewhere between honesty and not being sure if what I'm saying is a lie.

Somewhere between "I ****** up" and "you're ****** up."

Somewhere between those places, I find myself listening to songs I usually don't and drinking chemicals I always said I wouldn't.

I'm looking for something and I put my faith in finding a person, which is unfair to whomever I choose to place it on.

The weight of the world...My world.

I got to the point where I didn't care what happened to it anymore.

I threw it in the air so now it bounces through infinite space. It's unappealing and covered in glass shards, wrinkles and scars.

I can't blame anybody for not wanting to pick it up...

But I'm hoping someone does.

If walls could talk, they would scream vile words in my face as I trace cloud patterns through volatile gray skies.

In the Summer I pray for Winter and in the Winter I pray for Summer.

I wish I could say I'm OK with Fall because it's the best of the worst, but I know when I get there I'm praying for a Spring bloom.

I always want what is furthest away from me.

Can that be my excuse for why I put distance between the people I love most?

Staring at the same spot makes you miss out on 273 degrees of a viewing radius coming to roughly 74% of life that you're currently missing.

If you do stare at something, make sure it's beautiful enough to be a fair trade for 74% visibility.

Your smile is worth it.  You're worth it.

Stare.

I hope one day we can sit in trees and watch the sunset.  I don't understand how you got so far up the branch.  Your Chuck Taylors hang out of the tree, the sharpie colored star swaying above the Earth.  I look at mine in the same position and think we might be made for each other.  Star crossed lovers.

But just for a second or two.

Tick Tock

The Sun goes down and begins to cool the atmosphere.  The Milky Way is still holding an ambiance.

I'll drive you home.

I wish my headlights were brighter.

I hate small talk.

I love the way you say words.

Talk to me.

You tell me you like to sing.  I turn the radio off.

Your voice is off key and out of rhythm.  Beautiful really.

It's soft, I wish you would sing it closer to my ear.  Is that weird to ask?  Yes it is.  Don't do it.

You could end me.  You know you could and you don't want to hurt me.  You're one of the few people that actually cares.  That's also the main reason I like you.

Counter productive on both sides. We're both going nowhere fast.

Bye, text me when you get home.

The car door shuts.  

Reverse.  

I dolly out, watching you walk through your door.

I miss you already.  Neutral.  Drive.

You are the rainbow in the lack of light.

You are my Columbine.

My less than clean locker in school,

My more than adequate collection of words that some people think is poetry.



You are the sun when it's not daytime.

You are my pathetic excuse for doing anything else.

My less than Saturday expedition,

My more than nothing heart break.



You are the open window bringing in a perfect summer air.

You are the Autumn when I am sick of Summer.

My less than drug addiction,

my more than a smile grin.



You are forever everything I've ever wanted, even if I wasn't sure what that was.

You are the solution to any problem I've ever had.

My sweet poetic.

My sour smoke that I inhale willingly into my lungs.



You are the cough that I wish I never had.

You are the lungs that I wish could withstand more.

My downfall.

My upbringing.



You are the song that I hate.

You are my favorite song.

My never ever.

My forever.



I love you forever.

There's a ringing in my right ear.
I hum to block it out.
The hum becomes annoying.
Neither side of the pillow is the cold side.
My lungs are the first casualty from the war in my head.
That jolt you get when you fall in your dreams and you wake up with your heart beating.
That hasn't gone away for awhile now.
It's like I'm just waiting to hit the ground.
Caught in this constant free fall of fear.
I can't seem to shake the shakes.
Found a picture from last night with a cigarette in my mouth.
I don't smoke though.
There's a rainbow somewhere and over that is where I'm looking to go.
I'm sick of sad songs.
I'm sick of happy songs.
I'm sick of silence and the low murmur of my 10 dollar box fan.
I hate everything that's on my walls.
I'd rather just pitch a tent and call it camp **** yourself.  Population me.
Scribble thoughts as they come.  I've been doing it for years.
I thought I would find purpose in it, but I still don't know why I write what I think.
No one else cares and I sure as hell don't.
I wish I wouldn't ask so much from the sky when I don't appreciate it as is.
Everything is wrong.
I could be as broad as the side of the barn or as specific as ice cubes in the Ramen.
Waiting for the day the Sun doesn't come up.

On top of that, there's something wrong with the lights.

How are you?
I'm fine.
Today, I managed to fake a smile that was believable.
I watched the Cheshire Cat disappear.
I found the bottom of a bottle.  Found myself in the same place.
I found alone.
I found it before, just didn't have a name for it.
Like when you built forts out of covers and cushions and didn't name it Fort Sky til the next day.
We fall to a place where flash lights expand iris's as fast as the drug.
Numb tongues make hollow words sound convincing.
We're still in Fort Sky except we're in our early 20's and the flimsy walls made out of sheets are now concrete and when we were kids, we would make a sky light.
We could only see the ceiling past us but the main reason for it was for fresh air to come in.
I'm breathing in stale recycled nicotine, laced with caffeine aromas topped off with incense and cheap wine.

It's a hangover waiting to happen...but even hangovers are starting to become nice because it makes me not want to leave my bed the whole day.

That's the life goal as of right now.  I realize it's not a very good one and obviously won't work long term, but I need time for my body to heal...Or maybe I won't need something long term.

The hits from semi trucks and me playing barber shop with scissors takes its toll like a 5 lane super highway.

I hope the oven explodes.  Car crash.  Piano falls.  Cartoon.  Whatever.

String me along like an old worn guitar.
Wrap me
around your finger
and tie me in a knot.
I hope it turns
*******
black and blue.

Rip my tattoo
off my skin.
My eyes used to be
so
blue.
I used to
like me.
I used to
find something to get me through the day.

I want to apologize to the trees,
even though I'm sure they feel the same way about me...
I think you're
so much
more beautiful
when
you are dead.