i'm picking up my clothing
from the floor and hastily
packing them into a small bag.
i'm taking off,
without notice to the ones
who will miss me most.

my mind is no longer able
to give time that i do not have
to the ones who would take that time
and cash it in,
only to reject the profit,
and spend pointless nights
with another soul.

i refuse to spread my self out again,
at least for now.
in hopes that someday,
my love will find it's way back to me.

blissfully,
i rest my head.
for the last few nights i have here,
i will keep you
away from my thoughts,
and most importantly my person.

--
i never thought you to be so noxious.

the rattling of the train
on the tracks
that runs right by us,
shakes the core
of the six strings
that once held me together.

i feel complete,
laying next to you.
and maybe i,
well maybe i’m wrong.
but this feels right.

the creation we
we
bring the world.
the composition
of notes
and love
and exchanging breaths,
the beautiful rhythm
that we share
cannot be fabricated again.

there.
i feel safe.

hearing you laugh,
(on my behalf)
wether i like it or not,
feels good.

like sinking  my teeth
into your bare neck.
like pushing into you,
with pure lust…

i feel safe.

feeling you,
here,
even if i’m not knowing
enough for
my own comfort..

i feel safe.

t dawned on me the morning after she shook me down to my marrow. she was going to break my skin (with consent) and drill holes into my bones and get what she came for.

nothing could turn me on more.

she never stops craving a certain taste, and lately i seem to be lacking flavor-of-the-month.

rearrange.

should i ask?

with your eyes.. could you ever just see me?

they were already straight,
i just never noticed my posture before.

kept crawling along like
i knew the words i had been saying
had truth behind the meanings

soft swept by roads
when my feet slide
stripping
ink meant for
politics and money

i savor the taste
of meat i cooked
pressed between
light and birds
and the music of morning
the vacant smell of cooked breakfast
the vacant feeling of love in general

meanwhile, my hands bright
with the prettiest blue veins.

i keep thinking of you,
eyes shut,
still before the wake.
free from the shapes i was
about to reate
with my mouth,

and with my hands.

the absence of my breathe,
bouncing left, right as i keep
my word
something i could never engineer.

—

i started placing new woods,
right at the boundaries
of my favorite memories.
exploring with my eyes wide,
and observing new friends
leaping
from flower to flower
to moss to and to puddle.

i’m trying dreaming
because reality
will not hit yet.

i took pictures of you at twilight.
three different cameras,
with one exposure left.
i felt secure,
with no battery life left for flash,
i could remember you
through half open eyelids.
i found myself in silent weeps,
after each advancement of the roll.
i knew that those pictures
would never develop.
all along, i knew
i was only capable of remembering you in the sunlight.

her legs went cold
in a flash
as did i
with my hands.
i couldn’t keep her,
my palms were sweaty and i
dreamt of letting her go.

a daymare so subtle and significant..
drops of blood over my eyelashes
coagulating and soothing ontop
only to seep into my irises
when i opened my eyes again.
through the red,
i still saw her.

explain it? as precise as describing emotions can go? alright, i’ll try. it won’t make sense that way, and i think that
 that makes it almost as perfect as i could let out.

—

it was sort of 

like a mint leaf

stuck to the roof of my mouth.

with me,

unknown forces

kept my tongue

pressed and moving

ever so roughly
,
against and harder-

until i could feel the blood.

along with

a soothing burn,

relative to the kinds of pleasure 
brought on by

near-boiling water poured

directly 
over your ankles.

the sadistic kind of love you treat yourself to.

—

we kiss

with the beauty of a full bloom under our eyelids.

feeling spring brought upon our skins
as we weave our lights in with the sun during so many of our hours under stick homes not properly equipped with shade.

now that i think of it, we were unbelievably close to the desolation we craved.

—

i’ve lost myself-

or at least in dreams.
though, when awake

i know exactly where i place myself.