it's like pre - gaming really hard
being way to drunk before you even leave
some people need to throw it all up
get it all out and let you know what they ate
others, perhaps the more important bunch
just need time

i've come to the conclusion
we live a disengaged illusion
there's three types of people
those who have conversation
on social media
those who have conversation
about social media
and those who just have conversation
i'm not sure which one frightens me more

idk *** u want from me

when there's nothing you can do right
and you don't know what you did wrong
and you don't know how to prove
that this is right where she belongs

you navigated around obstacles
over bridges and under waterfalls
til you found yourself safely in my life

when everything around me is blue
nothing doesn't remind me of you
like riding a bike
or tying a shoe
moments don't go the way you want them to
and i'll whisper your name when they
ask me *who?

it's a bad morning
for battling things borrowed
you'll have to try again tomorrow

what becomes the light
when the source is so sacred
yet so absent and an absinthe of fright
just beyond the clouds of human folly
volleying ideas off the wall
he trips on the same unanswered questions
they might as well be prayers

***** sheets
nights on repeat
lack of sleep
excess energy
my own enemy

like a sugar coated table saw blade
serrated and waiting which my heart evades
as it stands up and shouts repent
i apologize, in the name of self defense

i'm proficient in the role
as the one who doesn't care
despite the effervescent fact
that you've always been there

the paralleled walls
that the spiders dance along
crawling to the song
playing just before the dawn
under the shimmering sneaky sky
eyeballs glaring allow the sun to rise

cheeks flushed red
out of the blue
something so fresh
something so new
without the slightest clue
why.

we walked past the buildings
that house all your feelings
and too many tooth fillings
is killing me
my mouth is sore
for one more reason

i expected a mislabeled can
filled with tap water
i expected to hold hands
when i met your father's daughter
i expected stuffed animals
at the zoo
i expected so much less
and then i got you

cramp in a damp cavern
it's a lamp, not a lantern
not sure if a *** serve cold
is going to hold the old souls
so we can ask the man
with a *** or kettle or pan
on both hands and a bandana
fastened loosely like a noose
he writes in loose leaf
and speaks truthfully
that every fallen sapling
leaves a loose leaf

i climbed the trees
and swung from the branches
i identified the enemy
and assumed a defensive stance
i absorbed their blows
and added them to my collection
i glanced through blood and sweat
and saw it was merely my reflection

your. possessive.
you're possessed

i don't want to be around
for anything other than
to make you feel better
than you do right now

maybe this face
was made for being anxious
and these palms
were made to be clammy
and this stomach
was made for butterflies
and this heart
was made to beat faster
and this bed
was made for us

when the checkered flag waves
and the street lights fade
promise me we'll stay the same
and when the roads we've paved
all go astray
promise me nothing inside you has changed

she said
not until the streetlights come on
so we laid in her bed
laughing and strong
songs of the future
curb stomped my head

it doesn't mean i don't appreciate a nice ****
and you have a nice **** that i appreciate
very much

i'd rather be caught
in the cold chaos of war
laying in a broken cot
right next to yours
then in a wind blown
to your front porch
and you're not home

a stolen kiss
rolled in silver
bliss and twist
with your body
like rolling hills
i feel every turn
and curve and snap
going too slow will
surely **** the vibe
i'm just trying to go for a joyride

some how i knew
that night would lead to
something amazing
and the amazing was you
after months of silent
adoration i finally told you the truth
overcome with joy
you cried and i was the happiest boy
to know you lied too
how was i supposed to know
you liked me as much as i liked you
you are so ******* cute
so this is an ending of an intro
and the beginning of something new

the impending ending in sight
together for one more night
i can't pretend to know
how the rest of the story goes
but i do know this was the best
weekend of my life

it's crazy
everytime i wake up expecting not to see you
after seven months, i can finally feel you
and maybe in a way i kick myself
this independence day
how was i supposed to know you felt the same
when we were both so good at hide and seek

my mother didn't raise no quitter
cupid has one less arrow in his quiver
but every weekend you float the river
and sell your liver to the highest bidder

the question
the answer
that will never change
regardless of how you feel that day
are you okay?
i have been

i saw it through tears
in the rear view mirror
i migrated to the great south
at the ripe age of ten
a heavy heart and impressionable mouth
it wasn't long before i picked up a pen
i'd love to write about home
but it's hard to know what that is
when you were living on the road

i must be out of my ******* mind
the things you do are just divine
therefor my obsession is justified
*at least that's what my heart implies

every missed cue
is a miscue
no clue why i miss you
i just do

i guess that's what happens
quick **** then cue the dancing
the game we play
before the sky is raised
i fall back
to my room
and go through
the routine like
i'm supposed to
despite how
close to you
i get keep these
feelings in the eyelet
of my shoes
miscues laced with
dreams of second chances
that won't come true

we dwell
under swollen
ocean tides
like molluscs hide
a notion
comprised
of insecurity
your purity
like lightning shines
but not the frightening kind
a flicker of hope
where bloated bellies float
til they explode
we'll hold close
to everything we own
for that's all we'll ever know

the sky lights up brilliantly and my eyes right the wrongs written for three weeks. the only piece keeping me on the street is my feet tattooed to the shadows and shoes. the only figure at the same altitude as my head will be my expectations. any doubts about us not wildin' out will be squashed when the bottle starts passing around. voices tell me that my choices will give me hell but my buddy Bud light, he'll yell back too loud to be drown out. senses weakened, we smoke beer and drink cigarettes til we sneak into cemeteries and the ghosts leak into our socks. we speak in shocking dialect that we'll regret when the sun is met by skyline but tonight we shine like the stars that nod their heads to the music of a good ******* weekend and this feeling, i hope i never lose it. love will be our beacon.

sweat caked skin and lion mane
the barber shops not open on weekdays
at least it feels that way
who takes a two hour lunch break

something's here are so hard to get
******* **** i need a cigarette

his hands play host to a long day of work
and this man still hopes to see a strong birds perch
he'll say maybe we'll visit a zoo one day
a baby living with a kazoo to say
words he hasn't learned
to utter yet
the birds i thought i might've met
the day i went
were at the vet

through the ring
and previous string
sewing together
these things i feel
a crestfallen sting
why repair what is
already rusted
why abrade soil
when it's already crusted
you found a home
for the words i entrusted
a corner in the ceiling
to one day be dusted

clouded and aroused
a clown laughed out of town
then proceeded to run
around and out of funny sounds
the pounding ofnthe door to his house
built from under the blouse of mediocrity

keep thinking you're never wrong
while you sand down your pedestal
to stand on, you'll stand alone

we beg for change
and then meet it with outrage and anger
we should all be ashamed for the way we behave
never will there be a fight won
when the tides we feel are not *the right ones

an invitation
you called to me in blood red
request denied, *****

there isn't an inch of skin
on this worn down body
that isn't stricken with pain
scabbed over and gaudy
with every motion i shout
and doubt my convictions without
knowing anymore what they're really about
i see a door called death and it seems
the easiest way out

bright orange illuminates the sky
making an ominous silhouette of the tree line
burning it's fragile frame into my eyes

behind the gleaming in your smile
is where i'd like to sleep for a while

kindly whispered
the pale night's sun
*go to sleep, delusional one

i love your violet tipped words
and how they could sip a cup
filled to the lip with cheese curds
another night has bent over backwards
seemingly for me but secretly to see
the sun smile at its pain