EVERY TIME I SAY GOODBYE TO YOU I WANT YOU TO FEEL LOVED AND LETTING YOU GO MAKES ME WANT TO TELL YOU A MILLION THINGS TO MAKE FEEL LOVED SO EVEN IF I NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN NOBODY CAN EVER MAKE YOU FEEL UNLOVED.

WHEN YOU LAUGH STARS ARE BORN AND THEY COME INTO THIS WORLD ON THE SOUNDS OF SOMETHING MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN THEY ARE.

WHEN YOU SING I HEAR MY GRANDMOTHER WHISTLING WITH ALL HER WIND CHIMES AND THATS WHY I CRY WHEN I HEAR IT

WHEN YOU SAY " be nice to her"  I SEE MY PRESCHOOL TEACHER THE TIME SHE TAUGHT ME MY FIRST LESSON IN FORGIVENESS

WHEN I SEE YOUR FACE I GET THE FEELING I GET WHEN I WAS 6 AND THE ICE CREAM MAN TURNED DOWN MY ROAD AND ALL I WANTED TO DO WAS RUN DIRECTLY TO HIM I JUST WANT TO RUN DIRECTLY TO YOU.

Leo virgo mess,
Creative driveless TAG kid,
Living ******* prince.

These,  cats are cadavers,
I discard em like candy wrappers,
For tryna come at me backwards,
Everybodies got a dream and I'm saddened that most of em never happen,
I really, want success but you can't see it in my actions,
Im about to take some steps get off my *** and stop relaxing, bowl packing and bein stagnant,
Become a man, grow some nuts and get to crackin,
Its time to make something happen
Stop talking about the rappin and start being about the rapping,
I wanna embrace my destiny
Change the game wit my team next to me,
As long as I got the music pain will never get the best of me,
put myself inside the work until there's nothing physically left of me,
Spend money on my momma till there's nothing in the bank thats left for me,

In this world I only seek growth,
Not in a greedy or consumerist way,
I also dont mean that as some form of my own twisted manifest destiny or any american dream. I just want to be able to wrap myself in my own embrace and say today was a good day, and learn from my days.
I want to be able to create art 24/7 and with you I was so focused on you I never did. Not that thats your fault or anyones it just means I need to focus.  If my growth isnt a reasonable explanation to you then thanks for the fertilizer.

I wish I could make you understand.
I wish I could squeeze away your tears,
You seemed only to be lingering,
Now though I see fully,
And now my die is cast, my coin is spent and im out of credits my last chance is ticking down,
I press the button to play again,
Game over.

The way our world is constructed full of false belief systems and things we make more substantial than they really are can kind of cast a shadow over the unlimited human potential. All of the societal and personal phallacies and traditions we have created are blinders to the fact that each of us is merely a shard of the same stone, a jolt of the same shock, all the same essence inserted into many different vessels.
We carry a light brighter than the sun we grew from but the smog we produce can start to choke it out. I understand fully the point behind religions creation,
We had questions we couldnt answer,
Where does rain come from?
What is an earthquake?
Who put us here?
But these questions have been answered and the only reason still running with religion is that people need faith in something; people need to know that after this ends its not over and all of the fake ******* they work towards to in their day to day to overload their dopamine receptors wont not ******* matter,
People need a scary red man who lives in a pit of fire to scare them into doing what someone else told them was morally correct.
But the part that makes me the saddest is that they cant just look in the mirror and recognize that the infinite grace and capability within each of us mirrors their god,
God is we

As each grain slips through my fingers, carrying with it a frame of my life,
The sound of each one joining its already rained and unretrievable brethren forces an epiphany to the front of my mind.
Open your hands, let them fall, let each one be where it will and know that it is the perfect spot for it.
The stresses of our day to days seem dwarfed by these grains of chronology,
When in essence they are the same and quite the opposite.
Life has come to a bottleneck,
Thick and thin has gone past analogy into religious symbolism for me.
The things we do in the next months, will decide our immediate future.
The things we do during our immediate future will decide everything.
But that could be a blessing, we were never very decisive people.

Today I wake n baked with the world.
I stepped outside into the 11 o clock sun and let my eyes adjust,
"Hello clouds, lookin good, hows it hangin?"
They didnt answer, they never do.
But they did me a solid and stuck around for me to look at.
I sat down on the second step and put my **** down next to me. I took a deep breath and looked around at the fenced in yard and grass that needed cutting but the spring weather wont permit it lately. I remember when there was no fence, the now slight dip in the yard was a crater, and when the skirting was missing after numerous hurricanes. Rosie followed me down and went on to lay in the sun for a while.
I took a hit and held it in, the warmth a familiar feeling in my lungs, I smiled and exhaled into the sun.
After I was finished coughing and whatever song was on ended it was too serene for me to ruin with more rap music at the moment.
There were honeybees and there were wasps everywhere in the grass, hunting, very active. I never noticed how graceful and well equipped wasps are until I was able to observe and appreciate one for more than a pain bringing nuisance. I watched as a wasp flew around my foot then off into the grass clearly not interested in me.
He landed on a piece of grass mid flight and quickly crawled around under the grass, im assuming hunting. Regardless it was cool and ive never seen that, I saw other wasps doing it and started thinking about the fact that they are the only real insect predator in my yard I think. There are probably others like spiders and stuff but wasps seem the most prevalent, and the most determined.
As I stopped focusing so much on the wasps I noticed it seemed like the grass was talking. It sounded like it was making that "snap crackle pop" noise from rice crispies or whatever that cereal is. Im not sure what the noise really was but I would swear the grass was just saying hello.
On closer examination maybe it was singing hello? The noise was lovely, almost enchanting.
Idk but I prolly sound crazy, oh well.

I try to see us working because I would love that but,
but,
every time I take a step I feel you recoil with second guesses,
I do my best to respect boundaries then you start blurring the lines,
I do my BEST to keep it cool and then you hit me with a heat wave that burns like chicago in 72'.
I wish youd make this **** clear cause im done sailing on the foggy friendship ship, even the scenic route *****.
please take your peace core dreams and sail out of my life,
you make me want a travel companion and I need to do this alone.

U ever feel the pieces of ur puzzle falling apart as the picture changes?
U ever feel the timelines cross and snap when things come full circle?
Nothing is or ever was coincidence and if something happens in your life u ride the wave and wait for the judges score, and tear wont turn back time or Christmas would still be at my grandparents house and high school wouldn't be an ever swirling blur flushed down the toilet of time to be lost in the sewers of nostalgia.
I don't know why I never end up making people as happy as I wish I could.
I wish the opossum scratching much ceiling would share some wisdom with a young and stupid human who has no idea what to do with the gift of sentience, every intention to make his gift of time worthwhile but he's not sure which direction to start throwing Spears when on every side there is a demon of his doing he must come to terms with
His house of cards came to be built of jokers, and the land he built his fortune on became plagued with mold and greed, his fortune flew away in search of richer soil and warmer sunlight, and birds with softer voices and bees with sweeter honey.
AND once it's spent it will settle gently Into the cradling arms of earth once and for all.
The ocean has always been the only thing I felt really accepted me, nothing to say but hello, and off my back with the ease it got on it. I feel that I need it's breath aND it's touch or else I'm part of myself.
I think If ever I lose hope I'll lose myself in the ocean, aND hopefully with something to look for I'll know which direction to head.

As the ocean sang me songs I watched the stars and felt the cool sand on my feet. I remember feeling like I was finally able to think. Like finally, I could just sit and ignore everything I ever had to stress about and the ocean didnt care, and neither did the stars. I felt time pass and it felt natural, I didnt notice every second I just felt the world spinning for once and became dizzy with excitement. the ocean painted pictures of war and peace and light and dark and loss and gain with each gently crashing wave. I remember being reminded of the subtle futilty that is our existence and I smiled and told myself id make myself more than a cosmic blink, but I wasnt even there yet. the ocean reminded me that there is something much bigger and more important than me and my problems. It calmed my brain and chased away any feelings of seclusion even though I was alone on the beach. previously my brain was warm with unrest and scattered anxiety danced all over my thought proccess but with the ocean kissing my ears it all seemed to stop except the grand clock that ticks long after nothingness is achieved and matter not longer matters.

"Youre such a baby!"
The words I suppose will define my first and most crucial flaw.
The irrepairable error I cant get away from.
Ya know, at this point though, hearing the words flow from your mouth nowadays,
"Youre such a baby!"
It seems more and less applicable.
When you first said it I was most definitely a baby, freshly able to call myself 16 and I thought I was head over heels then. But nowadays I find myself being semi childish over you and then I remember were not actually anything were just whatever and I just hear it,
"Youre such a baby!"
Hm.
The phrase haunts her mind like a specter she sometimes forgets about; but its always there
Im sorry.
I feel like my dreams grow bigger and realer every day and they include you more and more but then theres days where I just feel like if I was the last person on earth youd walk on bye humming.
"Im a ******* baby"
Its weird. I dont think im a baby at all and then you make me remember.
I still need to remember to learn from children that nothing is as serious as I let it seem.  Every day you lose a tiny bit of interest in me and I watch it. I feel like im watching the water from my fishbowl evaporate. I noticed you think you can pick out certain life images from people to decide your compatibility. That is so intuitive but the edges of our puzzle pieces dont really fit every day.
"If we never date we never break up"
I dont really care if we date losing you is gonna **** again. But when the day comes I know well cope. Youll yoga me away and skip the shotglass, Ill probably roll more blunts than my throat is ok with and convince myself im all I need. I dont feel deserving of you and your imperfectionsz So much bounces around my head when I write right now that only like 10% of what I need to come out is coming out.
It feels like im trying to pull only my matching socks from a spinning laundry machine.
I need to just chill.

Bricks break and time disposes of the dust,
Death to death the traces of life are visible in the rust, the moon is where I hide by fears cause I only want to think about them at night, and the ocean is where I want to die because I don't like what mammals have come to stand for and coral seems more fitting of a casket than bedrock,( and my mom could never afford a waterbed.)
My favorite part of life is watching the pieces fall into place and people fall away, nobody notices themselves eroding and eroding each other till their weathered joints are crunchy with exhaustion and the only literary tools they use anymore are personification and repetition,
I wanna die before this moon Soul becomes new and before the smoke blows away in the wind and the ice drips into a pool of Zen and missed chances
But not because I'm sad or could never part because I'd like to see how they change and have no choice but observance.
I wanna be in the room when a star is born and I'm not talking Hollywood or a computerized version,
I wanna watch over millions of years as the universe picks every particle and places it perfectly as the swirling storm of beauty heats and expands into celestiality.

Im sorry you unknowingly traded in your heaven for a cheap moscato,
Im sorry I don't give you the adoration you so rightly deserve and need,
But lately how little progress I've made scares me to the point where I cant sleep,
And it finally scared me to the point of progression,
I can feel my mind unfurling as I write like a budded up flower or a balled up fist but the point is  im over all the ******* at this point, im about to start devoting time to something and I don't want you to leave but if you feel like you have to then ill be ok, if a better offer arises and yiu feel like you should take it please do,
I can feel the winds of change beginning to stir in the cosmos,
The time to come will be one of growth, struggle and work but I cant let myself say that and do nothing
I can't sleep and this doesn't help anymore.

Some days my heart shines like its sure the sun is its closest rival and oldest teacher,
Other days my brain convinces it that it might as well just call in sick for the day to avoid the echoing pains of nights prior,
On most days though my heart is in a constant argument with my brain,
Maybe not an argument but more of a negotiation, my brain lets my heart wander on a longer leash and play its music a little louder, but once the storm clouds roll in my heart has no choice but to be locked away for the sake of my mental foundations integrity.
Somewhere in the compounds of my body there is a soul that cant get a word in on the dialougues of my heart and brain,
Then again he has no scientific bearing in the world so he holds no worthwile input?
But what if my brain and heart are tool my sould has yet to figure out? Or vice versa? Maybe souls are adaptations and sentience is is just us learning to use those adaptations to our advantage?
Souls cant be just tools or improvements though, they are too cemented and too complex,
Too  raw, unobservable, undescribable, and undeniable.
I just wish there was a way to get all 3 on the same page.
Nothings the same lately and its like my world flipped upside down, and this is me falling out of reality into infinity and watching everything Ive wanted or known pass me bye like lines on a road.
The other day I took some acid and found myself laughing at the fact that we discover medicines and we have politics and science and that we have this curiosity to explore and this hellbent obsession with expansion and growth.
I realized at that moment that there is a simple and absolutely gorgeous futility to everything humans do,
We might cure cancer,
The sun will still blow up eventually,
We may find world peace,
But overpopulation might bite us for that one,
The point is nothing we do can stop the end times, that doesnt mean stop what youre doing and lose all motivation, it just means at the end of the day, were in the can regardless, dont sweat the small stuff and make your moments gleam.

I dont remember the first time we spoke,
or the last but I remember all the times in between,
I remember my birthday in Pre K when you came to visit me for lunch because my mother couldnt,
I remember when you first taught me the "hambone song" and every easter egg hunt, every ripped open christmas gift, I remember every picture on the walls and the smell of your cologne,
I remember the first time I heard you had cancer,
I didnt know what it meant,
but I cried,
I cried because I also remembered my moms best friend being the first death I wtinessed because of whatever cancer was,
I remembered her skinny body getting thinner and thinner as the cancer weathered her away and I remember my mom crying at the funeral but I was too confused and scared to cry,
now hearing that this disease was inside the only respectable male figure in my life at the time was terrifying,
then I remember learning it was only in your finger and they simply removed it and that was that, I wasnt sure why it didnt work that way with Darlene.
I remember all the jokes you used to make and how everyone had a nickname,
I remember how you made the best breakfast anywhere ever,
I remember your cataract surgery, I remember every hopsital visit I was present for and i remember the pain you went through when your wife of 55 years died of a heart attack, the wife you fed cleaned and clothed because her mental capacity had been severly hindered by annurisms and strokes past, and who you loved till the very end.
I remember that funeral making more sense and the whole death thing being alot easier to grasp,
I cried at that one.
I remember the second time I heard you had cancer,
in the same finger,
and they removed it the same way.
I remember you driving an hour from new orleans just to bring us satsumas and make my mom laugh,
I remember the third time they said you had cancer and it was something worse,
in your lungs,
and it was some monster with a name I was familiar with from tv,
mesothelioma, I remember them saying you had no more than 6 months to live and I was only a freshman then with no respect for authority and no understanding of the importance of appreciating your time with people,
I remember the law suits,
I remember you paying off our house,
and our land note,
and I remember you being so sick at one point you couldnt leave your bed,
there was liquid pooling in your lungs and weighing them down on your spina nd I can only imagine that feels like having glass shoved throgh your back from the inside out,
you layed and bore it for days with the pain medication,
you took so much you couldnt really function, just to avoid the pain, and it want really working..
I remember my aunt walking in on you trying to load your revolver and having to wrestle it from your hands,
my aunt told me in tears that you asked her to let you **** yourself,
I remember you getting better when they put some talc in your lungs to absorb the liquid,
and you got better.
well for a couple months,
and things seemed to be looking up,
but then it came back in full force,
and I guess at this point you deserved the rest,
i remember looking at your body in the casket and thinking
"this is the last time ill see you?  thats not fair"
I remember looking around the room at family and friends I had never met and thinking of all the people you were leaving behind and sobbing because it was not ******* fair,
I remember your mother having to bury you in her 99th year on earth,
I remember your casket being closed and the poems my cousins read but I was too shy to write,
I remember riding in the limo on the way to bury you and how we all joked to keep our mind off it,
and I remember wanting to ***** as my stomach twisted watching your coffin be placed into your grave next to the wife you married as a ahandsome young man with your whole life ahead of you,
I thought in that moment if you knew all the lives youd effect or create,
I just wanted to say thankyou because I never did and now I couldnt ever.
like I said I dont remember the first time or last time we spoke but I remember everything in between and not even death can take those memories from me I will drag them to the bottom of hell with me if I have to.

These days I value alone time more highly than my friends and I think they hate me for it, but I think I also dont care? How hard it would be for me to force myself to fake it with with those people,
Whom once I placed nearly highest in my life, But now some Id rather have as memories. All it is not but few and particular flavors that no longer suit my tastes, one such being beef.
Lately its been nice out, but not the kind where u go swimming or fishing,
The kind where you fly a kite or take a mid day walk alone to hear the leaves fall.
Long periods without rain had left a nice even crispness to the air which was a rejoiceful contrast the usual sticky humidity of Louisiana. As I fill my days searching for toys the child inside me can entertain himself with, he gives me advice and keeps me in line and away from meat.
Sometimes it's harder than other times,
Like everything. Sometimes I wish I could actually mute the sounds of the world and replace them with wordless instrumentals,
I think id be alot less scatterbrained. Obviously the election isnt the biggest problem in the world, its just the freshest wound in my earth loving mind. People go about every day as if nothing is off but I think were all playing a charade, I think weve all felt like theres been something weird for years, hours will go bye and well have not progressed or done a single worthwhile thing because twitter. Is there really nothing we can do anymore? Like nobody wants to care about the future of earth and humanity and life for a second to reduce their individual quality of life a smidge for the greater good? Every thing might just be ******. **** me if this trump thing lasts more than a year. Destroy this country if he gets re elected after 4.

Im still stuck inside the two way mirror,
Still staring at myself,
Still seeing nothing.

Three nights ago I was the happiest id been.
Three nights ago I had one perfect thing.
Three nights ago I was finally sure.

Two nights ago I ****** all that up.
Two nights ago I could love my reflection.

Last night I ****** my second ( third depending on how you look at it ) chance up.

But a year ago I laid eyes on a girl who hasnt left the back of my mind since.
She always said to me how love wasnt real, and to me that was *******.
"Ive been in love tons of times over the past 3 years"  I probably thought.

But those sophmoric ideals and freshman follys had taught me nothing and left me with nothing but a false shell of what I thought love was.
I never knew really but now I do I think, or I think I have a better idea.
Love is when you literally cant be apart from someone without counting the hours in between seeing them again.
Love is when the thought of someone not wanting you makes you wake up in the middle of the night.
Love is when the drugs hAve you  so out of it you dont think you can get off the couch but if  you heard their voice youd sprint full speed towards it.
Love is being overly sensitive about someones actions or emotions or thoughts because they are too selfish to see that the things they do effect other people and still not wanting THEM to be hurt.
Love is having your greatest fear wrapped around you and kissing it on the cheek because thats the only thing it wants.

I think I can also find love in the fact that  My world crumbled around me as you pulled out of my driveway once again and I laid punch after punch into my door and screamed your favorite curse word into the metal I could only see your face and the horror that might be on it seeing me like this and that was the worst moment of my life I felt like my heart was literally climbing through my throat to reach my brain and knock some fcking sense into it.

Im still not sure of what love is but I KNOW I love you

Somehow when she says "I love you" I picture her there,
Lying with the cosmos,
Pure bliss,
That same smile on her liqour lips

When she sings I get lost in a haze,
I feel the vibrations,
Hear her laughter in the sound waves,
I think if things are no different
Things would be no different.


Liquid love,
In one form or another,
Im pretty sure at this point shes a professional,
Shes got it down to a science precise down to the decimal,
Spite without a bite cant **** a toothless animal.

Rivers often mix; allowing their waters  to meet and mingle and swirl and be one,
Often rivers split however, after years of a certain current on one odd angle could bore its way into a body of land and once again these rivers would separate, only to meet again in whatever reservoir they may drain into which is intermittently connected with every other natural water source, ultimately reuniting with other waters including their own;
Along the way though some take their time. they meander lazily flowing more directions than they could ever practically need to but I think they do it because those other rivers take the whole punctuality thing too seriously, and either way theyre already there.

dont even try to retrace your footsteps theyre lost in the footnotes,
every turn of the little hand makes the atmosphere heavier, nothing gives.
you see the problems and the solutions but you feel like youre being asked the questions everyone knows the answers too, and being expected to prove them right,
there is not a time when im alone that i feel lonely because something deep inside me gives me comfort and gyroscopic stability that came as an adaptation to seismic unrest like the left side of my chest was strewn accross the san andreas fault, there is a ghost in my room that keeps me company when my grilfriend goes away,
when the sun has left because hes late for his shanghai appointment the moon beams down on me with a smile as wide as hers when that stupid cheerleader song that is too catchy to not sing along to comes on,
the grin on her face when shes wittier than me gives me the same comfort as the phantom of my mind.

I wanna skip the summer and go straight through the fall  (Though the summer and fall will be magnificent im sure) to the beginning of winter, I wanna kiss you as the airs crispens and the leaves trade all their warmth for a dazzling glacial nightgown and wrap you up around a fire while we discuss wether bees have a favorite flowers because what else would we talk about?

Just so you know id never say a word that flew across my mind unless you asked. And even then I probably wont say it because I think a lot but I choose what I feel from the thoughts. Know that your voice Is sirenesque and your skin  a moon for moths. Every bit of you is there and wonderful, there are times when I wonder which one it shall be to be honest,
me or them who does it in.
a wound opened by mistake mends easier than any other,
I should know.

It started off inocent enough,
As it always does;
You examined my hands,
"You have nice palms"
You said in that sweet singsong voice you use when you dont want to wake my mother,
Your head rested on my chest while we watched a rock documentary about Janis Joplin.
Eventually there were other sleepless nights spent rubbing thighs, elbows, lips, and every crevice of you I ever wanted to explore.
You never wanted to smoke but wanted me to,
I always felt bad but you never mind when my mouth tastes like ****,
I remember once my neck was buried in your neck, and your scent brought a beat to my brain and music to my mind and all I could think was "I want this forever"
For some reason though I think youll just do this for a while and get bored, maybe make some art about it, who knows you usually do, I just wish you meant it when you tell me you love me, for some reason I cant see it, you have everyone on your heels and now after all this time of telling me " just friends, this should be platonic" you just decide that im good enough to be the choice now?
How do you expect me to believe that you love me when you have always told me that love was fake anyway?

Walking through the Houston Airport, my mind couldn't rest, my heart ached for something that it couldn't quite place, and I felt like my insides couldn't sit still.
    The morning we did our last hike together, we got in the car and I realized how little we had really seen of each other on the trip. The morning was perfect, and the view of the island was incredible. I think we left a piece of us there at the top. Whether  The piece of us that was together, or the pieces of ourselves we had given to each other, im not certain.
      As we discussed forever feeling changed by the trip I never imagined you had changed away from me. I understand now, some of the things I didn't then, so I hope in due time I'll understand what I don't now.
     There's a still image of you and your friend smiling so wide, both out of fear and exhilaration, as waves threatened to sweep you away. I hope you fill your life with moments that make you smile that way.

Roots rip through dirt in search of water like fire burns through pages searching for morals, the ocean screams as it evaporates and raindrops never signed up for skydiving, there is nothing gentle about a breeze shoved forward in a scream of defeat.
There is no peace in a world with anger heating its core and no dividing lines between good and bad,
the world is a grey area where everything is relative,
good and bad,
wrong and right,
illumination can be a synonym to salvation and damnation,
to a bright new beginning or the end of observation,
there is no all seeing eye that can also cast judgements,
no figment story or drug is any more important than our mysteriously unbalanced brains allow it to be and there is no other human but yourself who you will love and hate so intensely as the one who hides behind the mirror. Keep your shoulders broad when your back is weak, accepting responsibility is a much easier thing to practice than carrying each load,
people will wander in and out of your life,
some will leave footsteps or trinkets as reminders,
some will leave and never be re-minded,
selective porousness is the path to the correct tribe and the proper feeders of your flame,
let people come and go from your life as their path demands but reserve the right to deny them that right when you feel your dignity questioned.

I used to feel the words flow from my fingertips like water waiting eagerly to drool from the open mouth of a faucet,
now I feel them shoot directly from my fingertips with an ultimate intention of their destination, or at least the summation of the amalgamation of each sensation they could evoke ,
i wrote, to find some clarity in my thoughts or emotions, finding it easier to pick apart and choose rights and wrongs in a literary format.
Now I write because at times I simply must or my soul my burst from the hot air my ego pumps into it, writing is like turning a pressure valve, like applying a healing salve, like blowing your nose and clearing the debris,
writing is like waffles with butter and maple syrup
writing is fuckkkkkk
writing is something I love but have been neglecting my passion for as of late,
I think I shall once more seek its embrace.

Enlist a draft,

Reinforce the gates,

On your mark,

Get set,

Kick rocks,

Best yet,

Worst ever,

Self absorbed,

Self destruction,

Twinkle twinkle,

Row your boat,

**** is not a dream,

Fire up the presses,

Alert the media,

Step back step back,

Gather round gather round,

Pull the pin,

Blow out the candles,

Drop the mic,

Pick up the pieces,

Ride the wave,

Crash and burn,

Pop the top,

Live and learn,

On and on,

Rest In ****.

do you ever notice it when youre getting sick?
the feeling of not quite rightness,
you never noticed how draglessly every part of your body was functioning prior and even now you cant quite pinpoint which wheel needs the oil but somewhere deep in your bones your body is saying,
"yo somethings fucky"
my brain tends to be a hypochondriac when theres no **** around,
I start to notice the frowns on her face,
I start to notice the wrinkles on my moms face that werent there a couple months ago.
I start to notice how tired my diaphragm is after 18 years of heaving my ribcage up and down and start to weigh the pros and cons of giving it a couple days off.
at least till theres more ***.
I sit in front of my computer and I learn what I can and slaughter minute after minute in your absence, trying to focus more on the chronological bloodlust than the fact that youre the only positive thing going for me.
the last few times I did acid the universe spoke to me and it was a tough pill to swallow but ive never been more confident in anyones advice.
#1 on my bucket list is to just get some money, and start walking. not really without a goal or anything,and I plan on walking back but, still id like to see what the world can throw at me.
my friends still make me warmer than most but lately friends seem so non essential.
everything seems so non essential

I lay down at night in varying degrees of ****** up, and my brain starts to go over the day, and my brain starts to go over the past few days,
I knew there would be nights where I miss you but I didnt think there would be nights where I missed you so much I got the smell of my ***** and cranberry juice confused with your morning breath,
or a night where I smoked a cigarette just to know if it helps like you said it did,
it didnt, but I dont hate you for lying to me.
I didnt think id miss you so much someone elses thighs or the curves of someone elses soft back could only make me want to call you,
its a good thing I dont have a phone right  now.
I didnt think I would sit down to write and lose all inspiration because youre the inspiration,
you were the first person to make me remember how much writing can help you declutter my mind and now every time I think of my favorite traits in myself I think of how somewhere along the line I did what I did because of you,
and now I do what I do because of me,
I cant be here,
I cant be yours,
I cant be gods or americas or anyone but mine,
im on this earth for me and that might seem selfish but I urge everyone to live the same way,
we are not here to linger in each others presences and follow the rules that are thrown at us,
I dont know why were here though,
I only know why im here,
im here to be happy, and my happiness does not reside in law school or financial stability or any of that it comes from the raw fact that I do the things my own being would be happy about. im here to feed my essence so that when I die this shell can rot, but my effect will be benevolent or beneficial.

A lump forms in my throat at the thought of placing words in their places like shoveling dirt on a casket.

Like every living day I swim further from the shore while my mind remains landlocked,


Picnicking with my emotions,
Enjoying it as much as two rivals could.

In the end the mashup seems harmonious,
Like the dance of two blades,
Each with a wielder who finds drive and desperation in each blocked blow,

Hope and solace in each hollow swing,

A thousand whind chimes choking each others sound into oblivion,

Or otherwise sounding shrill and panicked on their own,

Theres a duality to it all,
Lose some and find some,

Let some live and let some die,

Keep some safe and ship others far and wide,

I've forgotten where my mind was,
I suppose I've pushed it off somewhere if that's how it works,

I suppose that's not how it works,
And it will  come floating back.

The first time I really matched with a girl she was a girl that matched often,
Each of us charismatic with a bit of an awkward past and love for all things obnoxius.
That girl swept me up and loved me awkwardly,
That semester we were clicking,
I guess me more than her with my online game addiction, shed facetime me and sing her favorite songs while I played (including "video games" by Lana Del Rey and I loved that) which I always adored of her, among other things like her snort and her freckles.
We made a hallway our home and I have pictures to prove it,
If you ask her she might remember,
And if she does I hope she smiles.
I honestly cant deny her patch on my heart,
Its a taylor swift bandaid I used to cover the scar.

I kinda think my opinion on this changes every time I write but I feel as though you fall in love once, and once youre in love youre just in love with whoevers willing to be loved and thats just that,
I also think love is partially a chemical reaction and a natural fondness of certain people and our right brains running a little wild with subconscious ideas.

It worries me in a world with things so beautifully tragic that WE effect or neglect to advocate or notice.
However what we advocate is something as insignificant as someone calling themselves caitlyn and being who they want to be.
100% of tuna off the coast of california tested over the safe level of radiation (probably due to fukishema or whatever im not an expert and not claiming to be  I saw it on a documentary) but I doubt anyone cares. The oil in the gulf of mexico is still there on the bottom, they sunk it, they hid the mistake deep deep down where it could slowly **** the ocean some more but nobodt would know.
Although I guess from their point of view, whats a leak in the roof when theres been a leak in the bow for the past 9 months am I right?  There are literal trash islands and in probably every fish belly there are bits of plastic they think are food, those fish get consumed, they digest, the plastic doesnt, the predator that consumed the plastic either gets consumed and the plastic gets moved up the food chain,
( possibly to birds then to god knows where) or it collects in the predators stomach as it eats more plastic ridden fish.
Im sad.
People should know the earth is more than kanye west and ISIS,
I wish we could be humans.

I feel as though im finally feeling.
Days pass and I hold onto them,
Like this chapter of my life is being read as its written,
As opposed to after its been penned.

I feel as though im finally feeling.
Days pass and I hold onto them,
Like this chapter of my life is being read as its written,
As opposed to after its been penned.
As though our rivers have merged and river sides are being worn by shiver tides that come hither faster ever than before;
Is this unity?
I feel it so,  I have no frets that are not thee
And no trees that are not to thou tastes.
A onesie or a true expression of self?
You pollinate all you comtsct and if ever you sting it mereley damages yourself.
Truest though you are a flower,
A lotus,
One that grew its most beautiful and tresured petals from its hardest earned nutrients,
I hope to make ones as beautiful from pleasant nutrients infinitely more plentiful than those before.

Dancing somewhere in the shadows, behind whatevers in the way,
Her thoughts spin quietly,
As if shes afraid of knowing what to say,
They jump and fall and press themselves to the tip of her tongue but courage or lack thereof reminds her what must be done.
The words she uses fit perfectly like the notches of a key fit a lock,
Her application is where the art is,
Delivery as gentle soft rock.


I just wanna know,
Everything you wish you had,
Everything I'm not for you,
And everything he is,
Is there something I can do about it?
Or is it just the proof in the pudding that I'm supposed to be alone?

When he strums do you have the urge to tell him,
"You're definitely not allowed to do that"
And when my arms are wrapped around you is it his voice bouncing around in your head that drowns me out?
Lately I don't know which parts of me you'd keep if I fell apart,
Or which you would trash because you have no use for them.


She always tells me 95 percent,
And vague as they can be listening to her speak her words is always time well spent.

She is those hard rimmed glasses,
She is those soft brown eyes,
She is the music In my head,
She is shrimp fried rice,
She is "all is fixed with love"
She is "baby be nice",
She is a flower in a glass of *****,
Her pedals serve as ice.


She is the spring clovers and clear skies,
Shes all my "I love you too"'s and "I wonder why"s
Shes flea market romance and eyes open wide,
She is frequent trips to waffle house late, late at night,



Some day shell leave me broken,
Shes not something I have hope in,
I just cannot lay to rest, the emotions shes awoken, an unintentional temptress shes tempts with subtle hints,  shell prolly never know I sat down and wrote her this.

Every day theres a different thought of you that skips through my mind in a floral pattern sundress with a smile so big Im pretty sure it couldnt go through a drive thru and I slip slowly  away  piece by piece, dripping away from the sound of music in my headphones and my now always filthy room, and the smell of **** and incense,
I slip back to days spent in a high school gym when my only thoughts were of when I would get to see you that day, or how you were feeling or what you were thinking about. I slip back to the first valentines day I knew you and you made me a mixtape which I wasnt aware of then but is apparently your thing. I slip back to the time when as we were leaving that same gym I accidentally said "I love you" and you just giggled and replied
"I love you too."
I slip back to days spent feeling sick at the thought that I couldnt have you in my life, I remember it eating at my insides and my stomach goin on strike, I remember taking money from my moms purse to buy **** because I thought it might help me be happy but it didnt and it still doesnt.
I slip back to days in hardware stores spent checking out kitchen sets just to **** time, and going to waffle house and not wanting to eat my hashbrowns.
I slip back to sitting in jimmy johns for the first time eating a sandwich I didnt care to try to taste but it didnt matter because you were right next to me eating your favorite food and you you were so ******* cute it made my sandwich better anyway. I also remember when they started putting way too much mayo on the sandwiches for you so you stopped going.
I slip back to nights spent in my bed trying my best to not be too forward, finally taking your que and learning your neck and discovering the weird things about how you sleep, I slip back to the warm feeling of my chest against your back as you slept and the way your chest rose and fell in such a way I couldnt stop watching, the way your hair shone in the green Christmas lights around my computer and I remember being so happy, so indescribably happy.

I slip back to telling you everything that came to mind and you genuinely caring, which honestly ****** me up cause if I do it to other people it seems like everything I say has no substance and irrelevant relevance.
I slip back to when I first realized I wasnt enough to make you happy. I thought about you when we were together, and you any time we were with someone else.  I thought about how other people made you laugh differently and how much I agreed with you when you tweeted about how you were too cute for me anyway, I slip back to wishing I knew what was wrong with me and why I wasnt able to make you happy, I slip back to realizing I was holding myself back because  I didnt want to lose you but I also slip back to thinking, "what am I losing?"
I slip back to you never wanting to give me a title and thats not something I get to decide,
I slip back to all the "its complicated"s and "im not really sure"s
I slip back to watching you become such a product of your environment, and watching you flirt with each and every one of our friends and staying silent because its not my right to say **** about the way you interact with people, I remember not being able to express how much your relationship with my cousin stressed me out because it wasn't my place to say who you could and couldn't be friends with and my emotions shouldn't effect that at all.
I slip back to the first time we knew it wouldn't work when I was sitting outside in your car with you crying my eyes out because Id never be in your passenger seat with my hands in your hair again, and how every silver car I saw would only make me think of you and how any time I hear a good song Ill want to send it to you and every time the sunset kisses my eyes ill want to take a picture for you because you'll probably miss it,
but I cant anymore.
because now I made a decision that ill stand by,
I made a decision that I honestly think was a good one for the both of us as we find someone who makes us truly happy, I feel deep down you know I wasnt making you happy but you were just comfortable with me, and invested.
your response to it all was
"glad were on the same page"
but I know your favorite thing to gather and hide is spite so Ill avoid contact with you for a while I guess. Ill watch you grow and hopefully grow as well. Ill learn to hold my peace and come to grips with my destiny which as I said since we first started texting is not in "Nowhere Louisiana", I hope you continue to blossom and find a bearded motorcycle riding man who can play instruments and make your heart sing more beautifully than you do.
every day a little memory of you skips through my mind and I feel your eyelids flutter on my cheek as your showed me what a butterfly kiss was,
every day a little memory of you slips from my mind as well.

Tonight I went to the city to investigate a mystery witha girl who reaked of destiny, marijuana, and body odor.
She has hair that can only be recreated in nature by peakcocks and birds of paradise, and a mind that a child would see eye to eye with. Not as in shes unintelligent but her imagination open mindedness, curiosity and raw hunger for knowledge and fun experiences can only be matched by those of us not yet knowledgable to feel and understand the worst of our world. Having always been obsessed with the moon it didnt strike me as odd that she spoke of that first.
"The other day I figured it all out, its the ****** moon"
Now at first this meant little to nothing to me but she went on to explain how we measure time is wrong because the moon controls us ( she mentioned something about menstrual cycles +tides lol )more than the sun and then she explained something about the 13 moon cycles,
Good and bad aliens,
The universe is a place of free will,
Reptillians want the world for human souls,
Eminem got his soul back,
This guru girl with the galaxy always on her mind isnt even that close of a friend. Shes kind of crazy and reaching in ways but shes just a thinker and I think shes onto something. Her psychiatrist said shes stuck in dreamland but as far as im concerned the whole thing is a dream so ¿

I'm doing well,  I'm still moving forward.

Only slower now,
More cautious of who's caught in the wake of my journey.
The thoughts of victims passed surface here and there, but they dont float for long before they gurgle back below the surface.
Where they belong.
Our odyssey has seen us lose many moons time caught in storms and whirlpools,
There is none left to dawdle with,
Only enough to finish the journey.

I rest easy,
With no time for troubled dreams.
I keep my eyes forward,  
Set on finding the truths obscured by the mystery of life, and the beauty therein.

I'm never alone on my journey,
I'm thankful for that always,
It makes the days breeze bye
When they feel the nastiest.

I'm mapping the coast as I go along,
Making note of the fauna and flora I can see,
I'll keep it close,
And stay the course as long as fate allows.

Death wanders in every way but aimlessly with a bag of "welcome homes" for the souls who make it through life without getting trapped.
Wheels turnin on pure momentum can roll for miles piloted by a corpse,
whos to say one couldnt win a race?
Even if he finishes first what could a cold a corpse want with victory?
Souls cant be bought back with fortune and fame,
death doesnt want it and the devils got enough of it.
A corpse who earns the title "winner" will still sit and wither until the dust that brought him life finds the place of its donation,
till his soul has told itsself "it was worth it" enough times he believes it,
the thing is a corpse who crosses the finish line first wont be seen as a corpse, people will pump artificial life into their veins with their words of endearment. The corpse, Now piloted by some rogue fascination of himself will come to see the world as his himself,
dead,
but victorious,
pumped full of artificial life and tinged with good intentions,
blanketed with fear and wrapped in the cold embrace of purgatory.
The problem with artificial life is that its no less temporary or tangible than the proposed "real life",
in fact in many ways its much sweeter,
but also more ignorant,
after all ignorance is bliss.
Artificial life can be taken as easily as any other and death tends to follow up the first meeting to make sure things are ending smoothly.
Hes got a quota and hes not about to fall short because of somethin as petty as a second chance.
Death was a victor once too,
now he shambles here and there, or floats or appears,
who knows,
maybe one of the corpses piled near hollywood has seen his grand entrance, but they might be hard to pick out.
I dont know if talking to them would grant you much knowledge on something like that though
perhaps its better to stop and ask a tumbleweed what theyre running from,
or running to,
they might have a more accurate idea of where the finish line is.
All ive ever learned from a death is that life doesnt stop when you die and you wont die just once,
and when a corpse wins a race he cant wear the ribbon.

THE REASON WHY MOST OF MY ART IS ABOUT you IS BECAUSE THE ONLY INSPIRATION I DRAW COMES FROM your BOUNCY CURLS AND HAIR AS MESSY AS your THOUGHT PROCESS. you MAKE ME WARM WHERE IN MOST CASES IM PURPLE WITH COLD AND NUMB TO THE BONE. I MAKE ART ABOUT you BECAUSE I KNOW ONE DAY you WILL LEAVE ME. ALL I WILL HAVE IS THE ART THEN, IN ART youARE PERMANENT IN ART I CAN COME CLOSE TO FEELING THE MOMENTS WHERE you LOVED ME AGAIN. BUT MY POEMS ARE SAD BECAUSE I FEAR you NEVER loved ME AND POETRY IS MY ONLY FORM OF STABILITY.

One day after a couple of blunts in my friends car the conversation of
"Whats the worst thing you have that you could lose?"
Someone said their eyesight cause they like colors too much, I almost agreed; I dont know how long I could last in a world with no tie dye and  where I couldnt watch the sunset dance its ****** and the sky take its curtain call.

Someone said hearing,
God this one I almost totally agreed with. My favorite songs are now only the parts I can remember.
My mom can now only yell at me with her eyes and never will you hear your love say I do in their violin voice.

Still something else seemed worse, and it might just be because im so sentimental, but I answered memory.
I REMEMBERED a friend from middle school that I rode the bus with who was usually very cheerful getting on the bus one day looking very distressed, and it was only 6:45, what couldve been wrong so soon? So I asked.

"My Grandmothers alzheimers has gotten worse,  she forgets my name sometimes."
That hurt me to hear and I could only be there for her that morning.
As time went on she returned to slight normalcy but one day she got on the bus looking more sullen than ever, I moved to her seat to talk to her about it.

"My grandmaw is in a nursing home now, and every day when she wakes up she doesnt know why shes there. She doesnt just forget my name anymore."
She. Didnt really return to any normalcy and as months went bye she was out of school for a day and when she came back she explained to me why and it still rings in my head as one of the saddest things I've heard.
"My grandmaw got worse and worse, eventually having to be reminded how to use utensils, and she forgot about my grandpaw, and eventually how to eat and drink. Her funeral was yesterday."


So when the question was asked I thought about having to visit a loved one and having to introduce yourself,
And not being able to say,
"Remember that christmas when we both over ate?" Or "remember the time you paid for our first date? Do you still remember what I ate?  Do you remember our vows? Do you remember when we hid our hickies from our parents and it didnt work? "
"Remember riding our bikes past the firehouse and scraping our knees? Do you remember the time at your birthday when you let me help you blow your candles out? Remember when we talked about how to talk to girls remember summer days spent swimming and laughing till our stomachs hurt because nothing really mattered? Do you remember?"

That would eat me alive,
Take my legs and arms,
Those things can be made fake,
But memories cant be replaced.
Make them while theyres time to be made, and write a detailed autobiography just to be alzheimers proof.

I cam back from a vacation to the beach to find my hometown slightly different, it was as though we had entered a new dimension and tiny things were subject to change in my 5 day absence; such as the color of a sign or someones accent.
Most of all Id say my home makes me feel as though im not home, this place feels like a dream, like im stuck in the matrix or something. Nothing about the way this place makes me feel makes me want to stay, and nothing about it feels natural or right. It brings a rock to the bottom my stomach turning over the assumed reality I supposedly exist in. Every person seems hollower here, like they are not pilots of their own human vehicles, but in fact they are occupants of their human shell, with varying levels of control.
There is no person here that could make me stay at this point. I can only explain it like this, no matter what if the environment is wrong, it outweighs everything else in terms of efffecting your mood. for example, you couldnt have a climactic battle scene be fought in a boutique, it would be heard to look past the soldiers hiding behind dresses no? nobody here can really outshine this thought that this is not my destination. Im set on my course and its not changeable, the destination is happiness and nobody else is required for the voyage, company would be cool, but jump if you dont like how the boat rocks.

Tomorrow ill wake up and smoke,
And as the only visible proof I have that im still breathing billows from my mouth all ill want is to kiss you instead of my ****.
But as these thoughts darken my morning ill remember something,
Ill remember waking up and you were nowhere to be found,
Nowhere to hug but your things still laid all around.
You were at the cemetary apparently,
All I wanted to do was be there when I heard the church bells
Something in your eyes shouted "this whole thing is killing me" from the start, so I new id better stay on the sofa and try to silence my heart.
Ill remember as I watched you gather your things and hoped I wasnt...
Ill remember your stumbles and the tears that came to my eyes seeing the empty wine bottle in your hands.
Ill remember following you out as you exited my house swiftly as if running from the memories and as if afraid of ever telling me goodbye to my face ever again. My heart broke when you halfway pretended to not be leaving.
I guess that was around february 14th.

But tomorrow is may 26th.
Tomorrow I will wake up and the universe will greet me with billions of years worth of more beauty than my clumsy bloodshot cones and rods can decipher and ill smile at the clouds because that one looks like a little fluffy dog and that one looks like a windmill and that one is a flower....

Tomorrow ill realize none of the past 17 years holds near the amount of cosmic significance I give it credit for because the universe had that **** planned out like the normandy invasion and I just happened to be sitting on the wrong side of the atlantic wall.
The point is that we are more than me and you and him and her and a state and a species we are the universe and the universe is more than anything the gentle shocks in my cortex can fathom,
And that alone forces air into my lungs.

DANCE ON DADDYS ASHES CAUSE HE LEFT ME A *******,
THE ONLY LESSON HE TAUGHT ME
IS  THAT THERES MORE TO GO AFTER
THAN BEIN COOL WITH UR PASTOR AND LOVIN COLLEGE LIKE ASHER, YOU GOTTA TAKE CHARGE AND CHANGE THE WORLD CAUSE NOBODY GONE ASK YA,
AND DONT WASTE YOUR DAYS AWAY BECAUSE TIME WONT WAIT TO PASS YA,
DUMP YOUR PASSION INTO YOUR CRAFT AND SOON YOULL SEE THEM KIDS FROM YOUR CLASS RIDIN YOUR ***, HANGIN ON YOUR COATTAILS SAYIN "GET ME A GLASS"
in florida a girl woke up my soul and stirred the stagnant waters in my pools of consciousness, awakening my inner restlessness, reviving my ancient nomad and making me realize every second im on this earth I need to appreciate it and make the most of it, dance and be silly, be cute, be bold, be straightforward and mind your boundaries, hold your tongue until youre loooking her in the eyes and youre trying to telepathically ask her to kiss you and in that moment shell close her eyes and smile with no teeth just to show you shes down,
and then a laugh will echo in your head and the smell of a flea market mixes with the scent of **** on her breath,  and your heart will burn with the pain of what would come but youll smile and call her silly, turning over to change the song from pink floyd as your brain begins to weigh its options, hold your tongue till that moment then tell her shes amazing and gifted, then pick her up and dance with her or youll regret it on the ride home, DONT WASTE MOMENTS WITH PEOPLE WHO MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE EVERYONE ELSE DOESNT MATTER, THOSE PEOPLE ARE A NATURAL PART OF YOU, IF THEY CONCERN YOU MORE THAN YOUR SAFETY THATS NOT SAFE BUT ITS A SIGN, DONT IGNORE THAT FEELING BUT RATIONALLY APPRECIATE IT AND NURTURE IT. there are people out there that will step into your life like a hurricane and rain down new opportunities and emotions, embrace their strong winds and bask in their influence. After leaving Florida I was thinking Florida and her and Tennessee and I got my to my hometown, and on arrival I knew something was off. it felt as though the air was made of different things than before, signs were different colors or peoples accents seemed extreme, however slight I realized the world changes and doesnt stop, we change and only stop when we allow ourselves to, we should learn from the earth and follow our souls to happiness, our souls arent what gives in to greed and want our souls know what we need and learning to listen to mine is something im determined to do. because even though i preach it I often find myself making decisions based on mine and other peoples greed or negativity, I should make these decisions based on my own well being, and for the well being of the overall goal which is happiness and a home for my soul, this place has fed my roots for long enough and cassie and florida allowed me to realize everyone and everything is temporary and beautiful and easily changed by our own will.

an ant,

Lured into a pitcher plant by the sweetest scent,

Drowning in the unexpected excess,

Bathed and enveloped by bliss.

Each day new cracks appear,
My image though distorted,
Reminds me were both still here.

I cant articulate my thoughts the way I used to be able to.
My brains connections have swapped from word obsessions to ambience and aesthetic obsession,
Certain patterns and flowers and shades and tiny parts of really large scale beautiful things.
My brain is no longer the same wordsmith,
Forge raging night and day as with each disruptive bang he straightens red hot words into sentences with which to turn to blades to rend his foes and cut his binds,
Now he is a word weaver,
One who sits silently at times, piddling with the different threads in frustration,
And at times feeling the path the words would like to be drawn down and around each other, forming pictures from the fragments with the dreamlike ease similar that of a stingray gliding across a glittering moonlit seabed in search of treasure he dropped while chasing the moon.
But words,
No matter the arrangement arranger or arrangement process,
Can fall short of the pure raw power to make someone feel the way a sunset can or the glistening blur of running water.