cherubs fly faster as mosquitos **** from the moon and light is finally bent into waves we can ride on
I swear on everything I love- not everyone though. everyones are my world. every one relation keeps halos above and wings behind
wings that reach through the life of the mourned
the eye of the storm
the eyes of the ***** captured in ****
ties between my every ones are
tied tightly try not to cut circulation to her wrists
I've got some friends who could use it

I think of last cigarettes

They last in anticipation of what?
Death? Better health?
To quit smoking or quit living
I have tried and failed at  both
Won't you trust me to inhale your carcinogens when I return? Will my return revitalize my feelings for you?
Or will what has become a smoothed-over ceremony in my lungs turn to a harsh fit of coughing that tears us apart?
Either way, sooner, later, an end will come.
But that makes it all the more intimate.
Maybe that's the idea of last cigarettes.
to stare the cancer of doubt in the eyes
and bathe in sparks of vitality-
to take part in a comforting regiment
and forget for a few breaths that the end is eminent

they ThEY
they WERE ALL Wrong-
really THEY WERE when
    they told me
but when can they be right?
on a school day.
between cinderblocks
between classes grasps-
of skin like the smooth touch of water
thirst makes more sense when we are
so made of water
in our brains and body
how can water be wrong
water is all right in its place
but when
THEY come out its just wrongThey are bad water feeding bad plants
all in favor of you know who
maybe the world will end up flooded after all
when the water finally
sings its song and
reclaims
what it wanted all along
    to be right to be free
all  right
but they are  all
       not rightwriting away on waves of paper
everything they say is to be right but they are    wrong
when they talk they say that being wrong is
bliss
but i know otherwise
rightness is bliss and
is  righteous and right
i know because i have felt the tides, yes tides of what they think is true
all in favor of you know
    maybe it is the same
if they are the     same
rightness and   ignorance
then i was and will be mistaken all along THEN
the Water will have me like it had them all ALONG ALL along
        a Flood.                        
into the depths i go far from what i have felt from their tides and i go deeper DEEPER

DOWN




until
i know.
it is gone
bliss
it was    never there
to begin with

That black wheel of shame
Take your chances
Guilt is a cat clawing the back of my brain
Swallow your cancer
Maybe god's the answer
Swallow my kids
after you blow my lid
That dripping potential
Melting like a candle
Down your face, breathless as space
And time's on the table
Dark mirrors are watched closely, felt
Hold it in your hand
more than a lover's
Cover yourself in cables
I'll lie there soon as I'm able
Our nights live a better life
Before the clock strikes 5

Enter blank screens and
Typed-away feelings
Your dark room and plain face
Are brought to life by a faint,
Familiar pulse of white light
Useless and used to it.
The face in the ***** window,
It's your's but you wish it wasn't
Your reflection dimly responds
With a similar feeling of disgust
You numbly allow your eyes
outside toward the Hearts beating in cars and on bikes
Blood rushing through the veins of the city
But your heart is still
And your veins are empty

Crowded, foggy, checkerboarded screens- all showing the death of the individual and the eyes of the new-born kids who follow more people than last time, more crowded desires and confusion are shared, an exchanged glance and a quick darting of the eyes in another direction, the made-up face you have come to hate, the small explosion of tears you wish you could have, the little number of years you have lived, the large portion of time you spend wishing you were asleep and not awake. It won't be long until your heart murmurs for the last time And you'll forget what was dreamt And what was felt And you will move along And take a journey of your own And feel similar spectrums of apathy And sadness And love And un-comfort And warm insides And regret And lust And yearning And longing And wanting. You will never find yourself but you will find companions and maybe even a place to call home. At least a place that is yours, with doors, floors, walls and tables.

You took my wealth
and now everything's free
I let your farewell get the best of me
It's always raining behind your eyelids
And your face is ingrained in mine
What a graceful waste of time
Your velvet embroidery stitched along the river of my mind