I am a November bird
There is no rest here
no, not in this nest
no, not anymore.

Hollow bones to the test.
First the beginning, then the rest.

I played Icarus so long
Had a head full of sea,
but now I am a November bird
The time has come to leave this tree.

If you stare at the sun too long,
you know, sometimes you forget what it means
you forget to sing your own little song.

Take me to nor'easter winds
my feathers won't dull.

I'm a November bird,
cross my heart:

Ready to fly.
Ready to start.

I wish that I
could fall in love
with a female,
for she would make
a far better muse than
the gruff sailors and musicians
and drunks and men
in general that I am
inclined to crave.

to write about
a painted pout or
skin that brushes against
your own like nylon,
sunlight shining through
the window onto a Cupid's bow
and dancing down to
a delicate clavicle, or
black eyelashes that bat
and blink remorse
into your cavernous heart,
to muse over such aesthetic
delights, would be
ecstasy for my poetess heart.

I linger, staring, at beautiful
women, androgynous women,
delicate, feline women,
stringing words
together in my head
over long legs and
hair that flutters like silk,
and they think I'm crazy
or in love with them.
well, maybe I am crazy,
but I crawl into bed each night
with my snarling, gleaming,
mahogany gentleman,
and I love him madly,
my rugged muse.

I, with every ounce of who I am, need you...
               I need you to complete my sentence, my day and me -
     You are always following my thoughts,
                    Knocking on my every conceived notion to be let in -
                                                               ­                                                                 ­     Please, come in...
                 
I, fiercely want every morsel of you -
                       I want you beneath me, on top of me, in front of me,
But...        more than anything...                
                                         I want you beside me...
               Walking with me through this haze of a life together -
                                                          Figur­ing the world out as one,
                         Living a great adventure and setting the world ablaze...
                                                       ­                  All it will take is one word -
                                                               ­         

                                                               ­            Yes.

Of all the times
We have encountered each other thus far,
We have never been alone.

I do not know who you are when you are alone,
Or who you would be if you were alone with me.

The idea of it all
Makes me curious.
Like I just might want
To find out.

I see you trapped,
Among insanity,
Among bad decisions.
Among regret.

I know that I can't help you,
But more than anything,
I know that I will be there.
I know that this is only the beginning.

There is long journey ahead,
And I will be there every step,
No matter what.
Because I love you.

I know this now.
After everything,
I realize life is too short,
To leave words unsaid.

I want to tell you I love you.
I want to tell you I'll never leave your side.
That I've broken down too many times to count,
Because you jeopardized your life.

I want you here.
I want to bust you out,
Of the imprisonment,
Of your own thoughts.

I want to fix you.
I want to make you realize,
How dear your life is,
To all of these people.

These unsaid words,
Burn on the tip of my tongue.
They sting in the air in front of me.
They burn along with the tequila.

I wish I could tell you now,
But it must wait.

...Again.

blushing hues
preserving precious nutrition
the sun is moving closer
releasing fingers that once reached high
tumbling to the ground
drying out, and crinkling
the sun is turning its face
allowing the next phase to begin

insignificant
like tiny ants crowding the cracks
minuscule
like the creeper ******* nutrients
one "being" on earth
one earth, in the middle of "space"

ancient methuselah,
your mycelium branching-
entwining, and communicating
giving strength to brethren
as hibernation takes hold
birthing fungi anew

*orange, browns, yellows and reds
i give my breath away

Show me all the scars you have,
and the stories behind them

I want to see the scars on your fingers.
And hear about all the demons you had to fight off with your bare hands.
did you win?

I want to see the scars on your back.
From all the people who have ever hurt you.
And how I vow to not add to that collecetion.

I want to see the scars on your heart.
well i can't see them, but i can assure you i feel them.
those are the scars that hurt the most and im  sure some of those wounds are still open.

And i want to see the scars on your face.
those distinct markings that give you your features.
those marking that say you were not afraid to get up close and get hurt
for a reason you saw fit.

Will you show me all your scars?
I wont try to fix them, i promise.
because i know some of them you hold dear.
you can give me any scar you want though. i want a reminder of you.
i wont flinch, it won't even hurt.
Im used to it, so cut as deep as you want.

Darling, show me all your scars.

The party, although there we only 9 of us, 12 at one point, was very loud.
People seemed to be forever in motion.
The bottles, shot glasses, and cups went soaring into the sky, only to crash into our moths.
The love swirled, the fun was endless, the memories will last, and the bottles, shot glasses, and cups went soaring.
The envy magnified, the arguments broke out, the memories will last, and the bottles, shot glasses, and cups went soaring.

I was down stairs watching a game of drunken pool when you came down, boyfriend in arm.
I was enjoying myself, laughing when the tip of the pool sticks missed the cue ball.
I laughed until I cried when Dylan knocked in the 8 ball, two shots after the break.
I laughed until I ****** when Fritz attempted to shoot from behind the back only to fall over.
Now, I've heard rumors that he, your boyfriend, treated you like ****. I didn't truly believe them; he was a nice guy.
But when I saw him with the pipe, smoking and smoking, ignoring your begs for him to stop, I got very made. Now, it might have been the Barcardi or it might have been my life for you, but I hated him.
He started to pack another bowl and you told him you would leave if he smoked it and he told you to get the **** out of his life then.
You looked like you were about to cry.
You continued to beg him, plead with him,but he just continued to tell you to shut up.
This was when I stood up and crossed the room. Tyler said "Nolan, you look really high."
I just nodded to her, my eyes intent on your boyfriend. I stood right in front of him and asked him what kind of man treats a girl that way.
He laughed and told me to shut up.
I looked at you and you told me to stop.
I looked at your boyfriend once more and began my walk towards the door.
Before I got their he said "God, your almost as much of a ***** as my girl."
I had enough.
I turned around, socked him in the mouth and preceded to have the **** kicked out of me.

I took my hands of my eyes and looked up from my day dream. He was smoking and you were trying to take the pipe from him.
God, how I hated him.
God, how hot I felt on that cold November night.
God, How I love you so.