you are a permanent ink
and I cannot seem to get my fingers clean
no one will shake hands with me
they are afraid of the things
that I wear on my sleeve

I am always arguing semantics
with strangers on the street
staring at the people in the park
plucking the leaves from a living tree
I want to furiously say something
but I just let them be
the leaves will grow back eventually
and maybe that couple will fail
and that living relationship forgets how to breathe
from the outside karma is amusing
boredom has led me to a road dark and eerie
and I am not fearing any reaper reaping
welcome to my life
irony
I am the reaper
reaping the ever growing seeds
that I always tend to plant near spring
never prepared for the yield
the end of summer brings
left with the weight of everything
I feed myself until I have only one option
to explode all that I am
through any medium
other people can see
or hear
or read

I signed my name backwards
on you in your sleep
with permanent ink
when you look in the mirror
you will remember me
and be forced to walk around
with your own pocket full of seeds

no ordinary double sided mirror
pondering thoughts
until those thoughts were clearer
in a range of out stretched arms
a velvety skin
cannot hold on
turns to smoke
it rises then disappears
a superstitious mind will whither in time
as intelligence grows like an invasive vine
up the back
around the spine
and into the mind
a tumbleweed of a distant thought
rolls on
I have laid so long
my ambition has turned to stone
never sleeping right
never sitting still
approaching everything
as if it were too good to be real

I have your face
I keep it in my mind
in a compartment
that any injury would not find
you will be with me until I die

I have your heart
and maybe
that is why it is always broken
and falling apart

I have your taste
and imagine that you would hate
all the things that I hate
and I know
we love the same things
brunettes and art
and the way mister plant sings
the calmness the dead bring
and one day you will dance with me
just like you do in my dreams

I knew a girl who had footprints
on the rug in front of her mirror
and when she stood there
she would break things
there was glass
everywhere
all of the time
I watched her climb to the roof
with her wings out
screaming at the world
who pushed her around
and made this place hell
she went to fly
but fell
as I lay beside her
I question myself
while trying not to get sick
from the smell

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?