there is an angel on the couch
a special kind of sacred
I am afraid to touch for the risk of breaking
a soul as wise as it aching
I will tread slow and safely
with myself on my sleeve
I can only hope she comes to me

there is an angel on the couch
I can see her spirit vibrating through her skin
she is squirming
hoping no one will notice
but earlier
outside
one of her feathers took off with the wind
and I am the only one who seen it

there is an angel on the couch
and I am a man too shy to open my mouth
failing to display my wittiness and sincerity
the vessels I use to send my love out
but I am floating, vulnerable in the sea
with the over whelming fear that I might drown

there is an angel on the couch
with a stereo and collection of cds
of people I know about
I chose a song
and as it song started
I sat back down unnoticed

"I hear a voice..."

there is angel on the couch
with her eyes closed and moving around
with her hands in the air
disrupting the sloth like clouds
she is in perfect sync with the sound

I am staring down at my knees
just wandering
around in my head
trying to remember to breathe
I am high beyond all reasoning
and the angel gives me an unfamiliar feeling
just sitting there on the couch
still not sure she can see completely see me
I am just a simple mortal peasant
and she has earned beautiful white wings
then without hesitation
I leave
and still, to this day
the reason escapes me

kites bounce around over head
as our skin softens the sand
noticing the mathematics in the waves
the tide nips at our feet then runs away

as the water retracts
the sand starts to look like my carpet
then I realize where I am
on the floor in my bedroom
with a memory in my hand
and it bites like a fire ant
the sting feels the same as the rest of them

birds chirp from their nests
in the trees above our heads
and a spider web on the swing set
the intricate design has me fascinated

as the sunlight bounces off rather slow
the web starts to look like my cracked window
then I realize where I am
looking outside at life happening
with a feeling in my heart
that rattles like a screen door in the wind
it feels like I am walking out then back in again

I live with an altered state of mind
sometimes I believe that I believe in something
but there is nothing that I can honestly define
and I am beginning to wonder why I even try
wind chimes ding in my head
blending like a flock of birds being fed
I am bleeding internally in my legs
and the burning sensation is becoming addicting
afflicting pain on yourself is a symptom
of constant wishful thinking
not seeing the difference between
what is real and what is reality
what is true and what is a fallacy

people are beginning to gather
watching me climb the brick of this building
the breeze bounces against my face
I look up to the glowing sky
as I toss my anchored rope into your window
scaling the wall I begin to see sirens
but I am not scared, I jump into your room
I remove my black clothing and let my hair down
you take out those tubes and change into normal clothes
we walk out like we were just two people visiting you
treading the hallway slowly and careful how we move
trying not to let the paranoia gives us a *****
I do not want to get weird in here but I will if I have to
I swear on my little insect friends, blankets, and the moonlight
those cameras will capture us leaving here tonight
everything seems smooth as we walk through the door
then there are blue lights.....
but they were on the other side of the complex
we watch the reflection in the side mirrors
driving away as you use your fingernails to split the cigar
three cops drive by right as the lighter sparks
I take a left down a side street shaded and dark
the only light you can see is the fire from the blunt being passed
back and forth between two friends on the hood of a car

I have an ax
and I am headed your way
they can chain the doors
and grease the floors
I am going to execute your escape
and we will be two shadows in the rain
skipping to my car and driving away
and all of the witnesses will claim
to have only seen what seemed to be
a lighters dancing flame
we have found a witch!
setting fire to Mary Jane
and laughing a bit
we imagine we are in a plane
the engine roars
and we will soar into a new day

there is a comfort that comes
with having more than enough indica
more than enough alcohol
to drink away these thoughts
as I stumble through the hallway
knocking pictures of myself off of the wall
not trying to catch them as they fall
stepping on the glass then walking off

happiness seems infinite
then the night turns
I begin burning paper
in my back yard
I have nothing better to do
and no one better to be with
higher than anything I can see
I am looking down at myself
I can see everything so clear
but I am always blurred out
censored
I am a puzzle I can not crack
loving people
and hating their memories
I keep to myself
but my mind crowds me
with everyone I have lost
pecking at me like a night bird
asking questions about thoughts
I try to drown it out with music
but the alcohol that I am abusing
reminds me that I have no clue
as to what it is I am doing
I do know that
I am beginning to loathe this world
you can not just be a recluse anymore
I am even scared of seeing ghosts
at the convenient store
once I close my front door
I feel that nothing and no one can come close
and those ghosts are no more
they are still knocking at my window
I put my headphones on
then stay out of view by sleeping on the floor

love
is standing in the cold when you are sick
if only to put a smile on the face
of the person you are with
who wants to ride the ferris wheel
if only to sit next to you
and cradle you
in moment of weakness
as your stomach turns from the height
you just want to leave
then you realize
you are looking at your reflection
in her eyes
love
is having an epiphany
that even though you are feeling weak
there is no where else you would rather be