i am making every attempt
to become more numb
to feel less
for all the darkness spent
the tip of my thumb
a spiders web

when i place everything that i am
and ever was and ever will be
into a blender, the terror in my bones
isn't born from pressing the button
but from dumping the contents out
for you to defenestrate.

maybe i can find
the source of your golden glow
where the glass rewinds

are you serious?
****?

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

one more dies from injures obtained
the death toll rises
but the number of people hurt decreases

between your hips
licking and living
until i can’t feel my lips
is exactly where i want to exist

Diaphragm stretched
Still nothing I could say
Enraged, I threw the bottom shelves out
To make the hiccups go away

i believed in seeing candles
i paused to hear your breathing
flames that faint and flicker that way
don’t have the heart to burn through ceilings

her best ****
was half drunk
fully clothed
in the front row
of a strangers
disco funeral

your pillow cradles your face
the same way i wish i could one day
the tinted darkness holds your attention
i'm envious of the tension in the line
from it to your eyes, a tight rope
lanced across neighboring giants
i would walk across it in defiance
of truth for a chance to dance through
your retinas.

you, who arrived at my heart's yard sale
on some magnificent beast of
compassion and understanding,
bought everything in sight
and made me the richest man alive

i can be a dancer
for the right price

you've been playing this game
far too long
to think the rules have changed

you've been singing the same
heartbroken love song
since nineteen ninety eight

every melting second came
something was wrong
but you couldn't give it a name

so you gave it the first one you thought of
you ****** up
accidentally fell in love

i am getting angry
with each invisible, wasted second
leaving on an indefinite vacation

yo peep this froyo
no thanks that's a no-go
all i see is a jeep logo
in a cheap snow globe
stolen from a sleeping hobo
yo bro sooooo
you don't eat froyo?
or what.
holy ****

i wish to be a faucet
the water my obnoxious wanting
as it falls i watch it
wash away your subconscious
and all the frivolous caution
you so obviously flaunted
i'm more like a kleenex
a tissue unworthy to be issued
in the box whispering pick me next
maybe being used is better than being kissed
abused but so cute til you scream
with your eyes you're dismissed
the others will be so confused
as i smile amongst hollow mountain dew
bottles and torn paper with glue
because you cry when you laugh too
i'll take what i can get

splintered bone marrow
broken, brittle and for a minute
felt something akin to happiness
maybe pain’s what’s been missing
kissing curbs with flintstone lipstick

build this castle up high in the air
envision if one day the person or people
responsible for giving you life told you
there was no longer any expectations
or aspirations or goals to strive for
your parents don't want you to be a successful doctor
friends don't want you to be their giving tree
your siblings don't expect you to be some all knowing peacekeeper
you don't have to make anyone proud
you can't disappoint anybody
your one directive is to lie there and
enjoy the sunsets and sunrises
and low tides and high tides
you would be pretty **** happy too

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

my toes sweat inside the blanket
but far too cold on the outside
you couldn't fake it as a pirate
with the right line in your downtime
you couldn't take it

so you abandoned the ship
before they knew you were captain
then you handed me some ****
you said you got in the hamptons

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

the siren calls out
each day we are reminded
why we are still here

they say what doesn't **** you
makes you stronger
this sentiment may be true
but i can no longer
pretend i'm not impaled
and transformed by trials and tribulations
into a replica, made to scale
of my former self
abbreviation

leave
and never come back
for your protection
i'm a dirtbag

i'm having trouble finding
a more suitable picture to
convey anonymity. sorry
you'll have to just accept that
this is me

often i wonder
if i would know
when tragedy strikes
fight or flight
or cut my height
in half in defeat
would my knees become new feet?
would i just beg for mercy?

i'd like to think
that if one of my heart's share holders
was greeted by a gunman's greed
his devil commissioned deed
my name would be in the papers

i stood with my toes dangling
flirting with the disaster that could ensue
i confided in you that i write when i'm upset
you ask if there was something I could show you
*not here, not now
let's just wait this night out
in the comfort of not knowing
who i really am

she hung, crucified if you must
she died and then was brought back to life
they'll call it witchcraft
they'll never believe us
*what if we told them your name was Jesus?

she stood at the pool table
black shirt, black jacket, black pants
black happiness
but i saw a glow.
bright white, blinding almost
from the second she walked into
this modest german bar
sold out to service us.
i sat in the corner wishing i could think
of anything that would make her believe
i wasn't just another
finally we told lies together
of our birthplace "frankfurt"
according to witness accounts
witnesses being her only friend
with her on this tragic night for me,
i was too much like the last guy

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

as i search to you
for answers, i find them
unfortunately, it's not what I want to hear

wistfully washed away
i am sanctified in silence
********
*******
*******

live in it
with it
inside it

those aren't skinny jeans
she painted them on
just like her smile
and every other emotion she dawns

will you build a tower in my name
will every step to the top sing to you
will every broken window pane
invite chills down your spine
will you feel the rotten wooden handrail
and brush the cobwebs from the corners
will you see the stars when you arrive
will your eyes meet the ground
will you build a tower in my name

with filthy, unkept
bloodied hair draping his
gritty, weather stricken face
glaring through frozen
torn eyes that have gone numb
into the punishing sunlight
of the unfathomable wickedness
a question was chained to his
morality dragging it through
nostalgia and the unknown

i hate seeing you
with them. we are good friends but
we should be best friends.

under the stars
we fight
in silent wars
til night's
calmness warms
a light
to morning warns
it's almost done
but not until we dance as one
sleep tight

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

sometimes the words travel
down a necessary path of self discovery
that bends and twist through
mountains of expression
before they are ripe to be picked

but sometimes the quickest way
from point B to point A
is a straight line

we’ll just read by firelight
feel the warmth on heavy eyes
snowy day, December night
someone I love on either side

to disappear.
lying among the melancholy pages
with thoughts of paradise doing a waltz
in a ballroom called action that's
fighting to keep that name
i rolled over in my slumber
with hope that i would dream your face
cause i have a proposal i've been    
meaning to propose
let me take you away from this place

you about to smoke your life away?
one cigarette at a time, he replies
well at least, he's thinking rationally

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

minutes i'll never get back
have been contracted to a cat
erasing the possibility of being fired
i'm constantly tired and haven't had
a good moment in months
i often reminisce on the days
before i gave away everything
that made me me for a pair
of beige boots and a high fade
memories are usually accompanied
reluctantly hand in hand with questions
why am i really here
was it worth it
will i ever get a return on this investment
i'm pretty good with numbers
but no matter which way i cut it
the answer is on the inside of a magic eight ball