Experience morphed me into such a detailed design.
Any exposure taints, just ask the sun when it hits our skin.
The spiral never ceases, it merely expands into the nothingness.
Until it is enveloped in the blackness.
What am I without the drugs, the relationships, the maya, the physical?
My mind questions me when I close my eyes every night.
Planet Earth has taught me to love what is in my hands
with all of my bones,
and when it is time...
to simply let it go.
It is not simple.
To invest and to expend for the sake of investing and expending.
But I know this... and so I watch...
finger by finger
as I loosen my clenched fist.
Transcending the object I cradled with agony,
and with each release
I rise higher than I
and it.
Senseless liberation it seems like,
but in doing so I lose my senses.

Riding on the Metro Bus, I noticed a girl with a tattoo on her temple that says L.A.
why would she want to promote this place?
I'm crying next to a street light and a man...
no not a man....
an animal....
mistakes me for a ******* and offers me 100 dollars for a *******.
Anger and fear have a way of making one run like a cheetah,
I admired my legs, the way they effortlessly glide away from danger and death.
****** hiding in every nook and if you're lucky,
you might run into a needle.
Hot in the day and cold at night just like the people.
But on the upside... Marijuana is legal.
The downside is the degradation of the soul
that is acceptable here because a girl needs to eat
and an animal needs a quick fix.
This one demon said: you're never going to make it.
You're too young and naive and not willing to bleed.
I scratched my leg so hard while he was speaking
that blood starting pouring out of me.
I didn't say ******* because I would never sacrifice my body
to this poor excuse of a human being, even in language.
Instead I slipped out of his house while he was in the bathroom
like a one night stand.
Los Angeles taught me that in this society, I am just a body.

I never truly believed this would happen to me.
Aware of it, I suppose but only in abstract notions.
You're like my unique potion.
But I am running out of your liquid in my bottle
and with every major use I drain you out.
I never thought it would dawn on me.
The setting sun of a finished love.
A chapter turning and I am the page mid-flight
feeling your existence coming undone...
and regenerated into something I can mold.
My mental attachments transferred into art.
And through this my other half,
may be born.

Welcome to the smokers lounge
hit this joint, lay on the couch.
Through the smoke you can catch my flaming lips with ease
puffing, pouting, inhaling.
Welcome to the smokers lounge
this is where I sit and drown.
Setting fire to my heart
to match the spiritual pain.
I'm foggy can't you see?

Sometimes I dare to fantasize about how your eyes would feel in my gut once they meet mine.
A clawing perhaps, an agonizing gnawing like starvation or butterflies before public speaking I imagine.
Would I get used to it? Probably never.
Regardless of space-time your soul gazes at mine when the clock strikes dream-time.
I wake up to myself and try to forget your place in this *****.
In this safe house of memories that lie naked and dormant.
Potential energy that begs in wavelengths to please draw closer.
Maybe these punches will soften as I get older.
The memory of love lost left to die in a box rotting images of a parallel reality
sweeter than Radha and Krishna.

If I calculated all the time I've spent
lost in the vortex of your eyes
it would run past days.
The memory of your face
still fresh in my mind.
At the airport I resembled
some tragic human in history
awaiting there exile with fate.
After she punched my ticket
we stood on the side and
pawed and clawed at each other
one last time.
As I walked away something died.
I look back once
and see your figure from the opposite end
of the vast quarter waving goodbye.
I blow a kiss through tattered lips,
come back to me I whisper cry.
The plane rises into the mighty sky
I look below and bellow
Iowa, be good to my lover while I'm gone.

Trampling a rose
Trial by stone
hindered growth
echoes in a cave
resonate my soul
the definition of bliss
is this: What I know
I have to bear
but what I don't can't hurt me
knowledge is weighted with tragedy
better off intact by avoiding your reflection
my mirror shatters before the matter of rejection.