if i could add
to my convulsive impulsive
body of work i would
if words could become
overplayed they would
so no matter how much these words create us
i may be nearing a hiatus

i don't want to care
unfortunately, i do
you're still there
i love you, too.
stop saying that
stop calling me pet names
stop saying that
you're the one to blame
stop saying that
stop talking

i really want to believe that it was
legitimately used at some point to
solve conflicts between opposing armies
that would justify so many of my own emotional reactions

sixteen sweaty sixty-something's
sitting around the sauna humming
mind numbing conversation
clever quips about the weather
whether it's just a trend
or an odd coincidence
tethered to a wheelchair
waiting to die
wondering why
amongst all these sweaty guys
not a single set of sinking eyes
not set sorely on teenage thighs
only mine, wide open and hoping
for something to **** this moment
of *******
no, phil, i don't *feel ya

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

i don't believe in reflections
or the poisons that you're mixing
i do, however, believe that hobby
is just a fancy word for addiction

i can feel this rage making its way through the blood in my veins, white hot. incinerating every other thought or feeling my body might send in to calm and counteract this anger before it manifests into something more physically painful. it's too strong. there's too many factors investing in this fury and placing bets on the things of himself he'll destroy tonight. let's go, corona, we have a show to put on. what a shame it would be if we let these people down.

beneath the plastic clacking
i’m laughing. too attached
to girls moving backwards
and making eye contact
they burn with the passion i lack

since birth i've been plagued with this brutal honesty
that people beg for but then return
with receipt when they don't like the way it works

i want you to have everything
i want you to have all the smiles
and all the laughs
i want to build you a bridge that stretch for miles
and a bird bath
i want to senselessly steal from children to give you everything you need
and write even happier endings to every book you'll ever read
i want to take from the needy to give you everything you want
and for people to call us greedy for the jewelry you flaunt
i want to give you everything from the east coast to the west
and everything outside of that but only the best
i want to wage war so all you'll know is peace
if my heart was a castle gate i would give you the keys
i want to place you high on a throne of golden bones
to ensure my arms are the only home you'll know

it's harder to find the way out
when you don't know how you
dug yourself down.
sunken, so alone.
all alone now.
everyone left you above ground.

this world consists
of a contradictory prism
people telling people
what they're supposed to be
because that's what they were
told they were supposed to do
but if a person who is told
to tell you who the right you is
tells you how you're supposed to live
neither of those people deserve to be close to you

the wick burnt out with no more wax to melt
i watch the picture frame go dark and quiet
no more memories and the fire that i felt
was as cold as the asphalt on which i slept

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

underneath the thick layer of lust
exists a thicker layer of something more
i'm not like the others
he pleads
she doesn't believe
she hasn't for a while
she is too scarred to walk through the hallway
and open the door that contains what's true
i don't want to *******
he just wants to peel back the scabs

i’m still stuck in a bad place
but sunlight crests across the skyline
in my mind
tendrils of hope stretch across my sky
the day presented itself in a new way
i think i’ll be okay

you produced a pocket
like a pint sized puppy nuzzling
into the bed space between my legs
puzzling how so afraid i laid and ran away
all in the same frame

ya know the movies
where they look down a hallway
and it's ceaseless

the last bit of salt
like skin on asphalt
cracked skull
broken rib
punctured lung
busted lip
but you're ok, right?

let me just sweat it out
better yet, push it out, let it out
with cigarettes without a doubt
i won't enjoy them as much
this time. i configured my fingers
into a figure eight but leaning
sideways figuratively speaking
now days nothing i say is not figurative

i am the gravel
grabbing skateboard wheels
and skinning knees

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

sometimes i've touched
sometimes i've felt
sometimes i've tasted
sometimes i've smelled
sometimes i hear
sometimes i feel
sometimes my mind plays tricks
sometimes it's real
sometimes you're never there
sometimes you won't leave
sometimes i'm a sceptic
sometimes i believe
sometimes it's blue
sometimes it's red
sometimes i've followed
sometimes i've led
sometimes i didn't have a clue
sometimes i knew
but one thing remains true
it's always you.

It's like when you can't tell
if a light is on or
it's just reflecting off another source

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

this world is a playground
we dance like daisies in a hurricane
and the crazies stay running in place
on the merry go round and pray
and when we sing songs
and swing the sun down
we go back to work
in our little towns
and we're all still so scared of clowns

i hate the word cliche
for every letter and consonant
and vowel and sound as it's
spun around, thicker now
than it was when it first touched
my tongue and leapt to its death
the wet crescent diving board
it ****** upon despising the very breath
with that being said, i shove
aside the notion that i am above being in love

if birds were trees
would they be cannibals
if i won the lottery
i'd invest in danimals
i wonder what kind of
toilet paper the pope uses
let's travel inside the mind of
a man of many excuses

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

i'm losing it
trying too hard
this beach house
is overcome with waves of praise and solipsistic rage

we watched a movie tonight
the interview isn't very romantic
but you sat next to him
slithering him who talks to you
the lies i would tell you with brutal truth
over his pronged tongue
with the lighFUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

welcome to delusion, sir
your seat is right this way
we've been expecting you
we knew you'd be here one day

there was a quaint town
the bricks laced with ecstasy
burned it to the ground

if i had been abused as a child
i would write about that
if i was a world war veteran
i would share stories of loss and pain
if i was a pirate sailing the 7 seas
i would sing songs of ***** and gold
if i was a **** selling dope by the dime
see "pirate"
but instead it's your guts spilling vicariously through my pen

my binge drinking addiction
blamed for my phalangeal affliction
a panoramic depiction
*that i have issues

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?

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

nostalgia is a bitter town
its playground once plagued
with tiny giggling clowns
now swings a somber gold
and sings a soliloquy of untold
stories pinned to a plywood crucifix
the building which housed books
that usurped the position of absent tutors
are now antiquated password protected computers
and the potholes mapped out on my bike tires
are now paved over and the roads are called liars

and so another night drinking alone
another reminder of a broken home
finding myself like a four leaf clover
i'm so ******* glad valentines day is over

inhale.
a pale pail
sent through the mail
exhale.
inside written in braille
the crucial details on a sail
and a crudely drawn picture of a whale
they were on sale
we were derailed from the start
but my next tale will not fail
to impale your ailing heart

no matter how much you talk to him
*you'll always be the pam to my jim

we had lunch today
popeye's isn't very romantic
but there was candles lit
in every breath you took
the lobby abounding with carnivorous service member
yet we were alone together
laughing at the lynched television in the restaurants corner

there's no time to explain
white knuckled on building's edge
lemon-lime lemonade
pantomime playing charades
chuckling at the ******* name
the line outside sits and waits
you had a plan and we foiled it
just for good measure,
we dropped your top hat in the toilet

i cocked back and swung for the fences
you plunged your teeth into its neck
we would've fought to the death
to keep that sun from coming up

deaf
dumb
lame
and ******* stupid
struck in the ***
*by a **** named cupid

this one will suffice
but i think i want that one
give me all your cash

i put a dip in
it rips into
the inside
of my lip
reverse sipping
into a red cup
i don't know what
i know nothing
muffled ruffling
in the corners
of the catacombs
of melted bones
osmosis jones
where thought calls home
an old rotary telephone
with the numbers rubbed away
i'll save the fall
and autumn walls
for another sunny day