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carbonrain Dec 2018
I can feel your heart ache under your soft, warm skin as I glide my fingers along your gold-mended pottery fractures. Skating on the glaze you've let me peer beneath to reveal your raw materials. We used to use air and clay and water to speak, now we communicate in a wordless language, born of naked otherworldly splendor.  — and  that planet, your body, I long to explore.
carbonrain Mar 2017
Their souls had spoken. Rushed off into adventure fueled by mania without first breaking the ice. These talks were between new friends. Altogether anchored by deathless subjects, they deliberated naively over a shared *** of bone apple tea. The glass was broken, but this was no emergency - just heavy words minced by chattering teeth.

Hesitating only slightly, they took a death pledge. “I’m bad and it’s not worth it,” she said. “You’ll be disappointed by me too, and I’ll bet my life on it,” he returned. They chuckled sheepishly. “You’re going to miss this too”, sang the younger sibling.

Of course, their conversation was purely conjecture, subject matter the victor of a game of happenstance, mutilated in transcription, like notes copied over the shoulder from someone else’s lecture.

Still, he hoped it didn’t matter, and without hope, it didn’t matter. Perhaps this was merely thinkful wishing. “I was a single digit, a gorilla in a concrete jungle,” his words seemed to suggest. “A flightless bird makes good food for thought. Fight or flight, fight the good fight. Always choose your battles wisely, and never speak in absolutes.” she recommended.

“It’s got to be somewhere; everything’s somewhere, but, everywhere else is not here.” he wondered. She could read between the lines; and left to write. “Stop being ungrateful and just close your eyes.” She closed the door, and he opened a window. Then, like some thinly sliced avocado that didn’t quite make the cut, he fell asleep.
carbonrain Apr 2015
raindrops bounce on
the window frame,
reminding me we're
in this room together.

your words are raindrops
playing on my metal frame -
nowness splatters
into existence  -
you remind me that
someday we won't be
in this room together.

you repeat endlessly
between my ears -
I sing along to my favorite song -
I want to tell you
all the lyrics
but my words fall
like raindrops.

unspoken are my
tear-shaped raindrops -
their tremors taunt me
on this side of the pane -
you remind me that
we were always
in the wrong
alternate universe.

the raindrops refract
your light,
dissolving a warm glow
into the evening fog,
you remind me that you're gone.

maybe the rain stopped,
but the silence is only
the absence of your voice,
the rest is just noise.

I think of our raindrops now -
smiling -
knowing that you have an umbrella.
carbonrain May 2014
how does someone imagine fire when all they've seen is ice?
how does someone so rare ever feel bored?
how does someone like you not think you're an alien?

how do you imagine hell when you live in mine?
how do you imagine heaven when you have no sky?

"We're rare, we're first, or we're ******."
This was inspired by reading an article about the Fermi Paradox on Gizmodo; beit.so/TheFermiParadox .
carbonrain May 2014
they’ve got no name for me,
i lost it to the wretched sea;
missing ship with no name,
waves of days all rain the same.

playing god takes its toll;
lost my little wretched soul.
oceans birth sea of death,
i’m only one left.

they've got no name for me,
i lost it to the wretched sea.
___

dying along the way,
better think of something quick.
sailing a long, long way,
the wretched sea guides my trip.

___
take my time, take a bow,
but only when you show me how.
missed a step, lost my place:
welcome to the human race.

blood runs deep, and the water’s cold;
never doing what i’m told.
mud is thick, conscious drips,
the low-light hanging moon dips.

they've got no name for me,
i lost it to the wretched sea.
___

dying along the way,
better think of something quick.
sailing a long, long way,
the wretched sea guides my trip.
carbonrain May 2014
there's nothing a clock can tell you that you don't already know. but me? i can tell you anything.

just ask.

there's no reason why you shouldn't be able to see the teeth you have on the outside. those ones that make others hurt on the inside?

let's just go back to that reality we agreed on as a species, ok? maybe then we'd be able to move along...

...we could, but someone always gets hurt.

put those teeth away.

and you? you think that solving a problem will make things better?

you're forgetting someone.
you're forgetting something.

you don't have all the answers, you just make **** up you ******* liar.

but it's not lying to you, is it? no object is lying to you?
but it's not lying to you, is it? you don't consider this a lie?

it's OK, because you convinced yourself of your lie. you made it true and shared the core "knowledge" so others believed you. that's a lie.
carbonrain May 2014
Won't you figure it out for me?
Isn't that what I'm paying you for?
You say some stuff and write a script,
then you send me out through the door.

You knew my best friend since I was ten.
You knew my old man for me.
You knew the word before it left my mouth,
and then you told me what it means.

I want my day in court
I want my trial:
I want my 'tempt at a fix.
Won't you please just diagnose me or make it up for DSM VI?
Just make it up for DSM VI.

I want a mile, but you give an inch; genetic tendencies.
I've got a void, you've got a cure, but this session's just preliminary.
This session's just preliminary.
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