take all hope with you
for I am the door
and you are the lock
we will wash up near the rocks
but now
we are where the horizon ends
and the sky begins
we remind ourselves
that we get sea sick

mighty giants moving slow
we are but two souls
constructed careless and bold
like a students mural on a middle school
I let go without saying
goodbye to you

there is nothing that I want
maybe a bridge or two
to burn with you
and you should bring a few
we will light a fire
and design something new
sprinkle snow out on the roads
because we hate cars
and it would be fun to wreck a few
smoking in the woods
in perfect weather
two lonely people
being lonely together
collecting fallen feathers
using wisteria vines
to thread winter sweaters
making masks from mud
scaring children
just to watch them run
not concerned with
what may or may not
become of us

me and terrible thoughts
fight like cats and dogs
flies and frogs
trees and chainsaws
I want to cut my left hand off
my positives may out weigh my negatives
but that comes at a high cost
pressure
when you hate attention
and would do anything to "get lost"
fade into the wind
disappear into the dark
I am a sparkler that will not spark
these are the scary hours
and I have become accustomed
to the hole growing in my heart
staring at the window
I wonder
when will my tombstone
litter the graveyard?

kissing at my neck
she burns holes
through my chest
with her fingertips
I should stop her
but...
I love the feeling
of endorphins being released
it is my worst addiction yet
she cracks a rib or three
and begins
to insert her hand into me
sliding the tip of her index finger
around the bulb of my heart
until it rested in her palm
I seen the devil in her eyes
it revealed itself to me
she had a dead face
she had turned off
all of the love
she had for me
then plucked out
the source of my energy
I watched as she became
smaller
and smaller
as I fade into the light
and enter the tunnel
I begin to see that this all
begins over again
creating a different approach
to a world you already know

I entered in as a child
back in '85
spent all of the time
to learn I have
been here a few times

I creep the city streets
in the shadows
watching the spot
where she sleeps
I have memorized her routine
when she arrives
when she leaves

I catch her at the lake
where we were first alone
face to face
it is ironic
that we thought we heard
a dead body splash the water
that night
we laughed
but now
it is not so funny
it just has to be done
chasing her down
I tackle her from behind
turning her over to see my eyes
as I rip open her shirt...
I take my knife
to slice open her skin
and push my hand in
grabbing what keeps her breathing
and not doing anything
but sewing her back up
and letting her keep on living
knowing that I had the
chance for revenge
but my love for her
kept me from going
through with it
chasing her is my sentence
and her watching me walk away
is her punishment

this is hell
and this is what goes on

I am chasing fools gold
around a fools world
with foolish feet
guided by my foolish heart
fueled by the foolish breaths
that I breathe

some time ago
a few months
my brother brought over a gun
and I just sit and stare at it
like I am in love
I am not concerned about thieves
but I am concerned about being here
when I have no desire to be

I am in hell
left to imagine I am still alive
this is my punishment
I wasted my time
and now I use dark things
to find the light
there will always be a burden
that I will carry
for the rest of this infinite life
this is hell
and I have been here
since 1985

tick, tock
tick, tock
the hands on the clock
are wrong
but the rhythm
could be in the background
of any song
why wouldn't you sit
and sing along
or read a good book
take your mind to somewhere else
because this place is something else
make the time longer than it is
when we use ours brains
for learning or imagining
we can expand it
imagine an imaginative planet
people planning the future
with a common understanding
of what is and what it could be
tightening the sutures
repairing the seams
we are one collective consciousness
having the same dream

I was in the water
counting one, two, three
sinking
I knew she was a flight risk
but I could not bring myself
to clip her wings
she is anchored deep
I can still feel her arms
wrapped tightly around me
every time I breathe
and sometimes her tiny eyes
turn into little beams of light
that stretch throughout my dreams
and now I am treading water
letting myself believe
that the thumping sound I hear
is her feet stomping the ground
leading back to me
but in reality
it is just the sound
of my fading heartbeat
I am in the water sinking
counting
one
two
three
trying to wash myself
of the once tangible love
but now intangible memories
of a bird cage I left open
and the song it sang
as it flew free