Give me a bathysphere
And I could disappear
Go way down under
Away from the blunders
Maybe drink a beer

Let me have a hot air balloon
To float over and loom
Above the burning cities
Pouring shots of pity
Into the plumes

I Want to breathe in the sea
So I can just be
Alone at the bottom
Adjusting the volume
To a lower frequency

And I wish I could fly
Just run and jump into the sky
Shedding my clothes
While flexing a pose
I would go sooo



[Fckng High]

I wash away words like dead flakes of skin up to night, from morning. I am made of them. Like a cup left under a tap, I have become full and started spilling over all the drops I wasn't built the capacity to hold. I pity these words for they have nowhere to go.

I spit them out like I've eaten something disgusting and they attach to my saliva like it was glue. The listerine washes them from my mouth every morning when I brush my teeth. The way they swirl down the drain when I shower mesmerizes me as I watch them go down one by one until I am clean. Even then, I have no idea how many more get blown away by the wind or get lost in the flurry of small movements.

I really should find a way to make them more permanent, but I don't. I write them down in the air above me head, the plastic jeepney seat, and on the skin of people I touch. Lucky are those words that are written for at least they have a home where they are recorded, remembered and immortalized. They're so unlike my words that die unheard and unsaid.

With all these words I've wasted, I could have written a masterpiece. Perhaps I have. I'll never know. I have never written them down.

I left the house of the tempest brewing,
Spinning like a rod, spun into flame
And came upon the redwood forest,
Eternal, shouting out heavens name.

The sun was indifferent, the creek shuffled
Its lament, the birds fluted their dirge—
I was so small, in the red giants grove,
Yet, felt so beloved, my pain was purged.

And I warmly came to see again—
My eyes, through the needles drove,
What a trifling is ones fleeting mood,
How true, heroic, immortal is my love.

It's a lot like the feeling
One of those times
When he'd not text me
Or call me back for a few days
Except,
This time lasts a lot longer

Like a breakup
Except,
Neither one of us specified a
breaking point

I don't want to move on though
'cause
that means I did it without you

And we do everything together.
We go everywhere together
I'll go anywhere with you

And the clouds in your eyes
The sun in your smile
Your meteorite soul
You've got me forever.

You set the table just so,
with candle light's warm glow,
musical notes drifting on air
with the wine you serve,

I'm there.

But then the meal arrives,
with bones for my throat,
bitter poison,
leg of goat!

I notice the wine has lost its clarity.
Now you laugh at the perceived disparity.
You rise to leave, say you've lost your appetite;
I've ruined your supper, your planned delight.

You! who so carefully arrange brutality,
crafting my demise with skillful hand,
I won't be served by you again!

I finally found my own clarity,

I'm sweetest champagne, well chilled;

Now, I realize it was your own disparity
once your evil brew was distilled:

Never mine, never mine
I'm sweetest wine, sweetest wine.


*a toast to the ex

Stop.

Your over the top brand of loving
has me breathing too quickly, and I cannot

Stop.

I look up at the full moon shining,
as your mouth
quivers down my neck,
and I don't want to

Stop.

My limbs are quaking and the
moon is glorious and tomorrow,
there will be dishes and children
and you really need to

Stop.

I think to send you home,
our bodies heaving,
My mouth forming 'oh's
and you really need to

Stop.

Just stop, park that car,
look up at that moon,
so still, so far,
so here, so near,

Just stop.*

And 'Oh'

Can we just 'Oh?'

For a while?

I roll the possibilities over my tongue
before I even allow them to breathe.

I carry my lids heavy, as if lost in thought
and pronounce:

"Salt, lust, and barrelled in frustration."