I wish I was more than a thought,
but less than a headache.
I wish I was like your favorite song,
instead of just a jingle.
I wish I meant something more than a little,
but a little less than a lot.
I wish I was like your favorite novel,
instead of a small comic strip.
I wish you put me first,
but instead you put me last.

We have all loved skeletons at one point- maybe as lovers, a person with benefits, or a friend. Skeletons that looked just like us; zombies walking the same path, no longer caring for their way. Pieces of a soul that were so shattered no amount of band aids and peroxide could heal it

Your expressions that entranced not just I, but many past lovers. Ones that are not intended for me, but if I try hard enough, I imagine they are so

Your hands were delicately carved work, and your bones, your bones, the finely formed structure of intricate words, whispered in the dead of night to the crook of your neck

You overtook my thoughts; shadowed me in my sleep, molding my dreams to nightmares. All I can think is “would they like this?” or “that?”. You are a dictator with an iron fist on my heart of weathered steel. You are the reason I write; why I wrote until the crack of dawn when no other soul was awake except for the lonely and the in love

My nightmares and reality merge into one, until I do not know which is which, but I do know that wherever you are, I am searching for you in the deepest corners of my mind to find lost memories, waiting to create new ones

And I know that, despite our differences, you are buried deep into my skin, a fragrance that I cannot wash away with tomato juice no matter how much I match the sticky substance

The one beautiful thing I have not gotten bored of; the one person I have not walked away from. When you have an obsessive personality, which quickly turns to boredom, it is hard to find that one person who keeps you from that

You are the one beautiful thing I never regretted latching on to

But the minute I saw you, I knew I would not do the same, no matter how much I would want to. The second I saw you, I knew I wanted to be the one who was the first to see your face each morning, and the last at night. I knew I wanted to be the one to kiss your wrinkles between your brows away, to wipe your salted tears off your cheeks and wash them from your pillows; I knew that if I were to meet your family, I would say “Thank you for him. Thank you for this great person who not only brings light to my world, but is a sun to many others.”

I knew that despite all that, you would never be mine. For you see, you are a star, a planet bigger then the solar system that contains your tiny toy of a body, and I was simply orbiting you, pulling farther away with each passing day

You wield a weapon, dangling from your fingertips that no one sees, but you can feel inwardly, pushing deeper and deeper until it is so embedded I no longer feel it. You morph me between your nails like the water cuts through rocks and forms them into sand, leaving nothing but the past remains of centuries of wear and tear and pushing and pulling and-

You control every turn I take- “Do not walk out in front of that car” and “Do not push yourself so far down you cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel”

You are the reason I wake up each day, and vow to myself to survive, for if I survive today, one day I will live

I count the days until I will tell you; fearing each day that you will find someone who could love you better then I, a person who is not a whirlwind of emotions and hair and everything negative in the world but is beautiful and a doll and will become the grass on your core, melting the molten rock and oozing out on late nights when no one is home and not a soul is awake

And I cannot sleep knowing there will be someone who will love you better than I; cannot breath knowing there will be the doomsday of my heart, when it falls to pieces and is crushed like marrow with the same nails that molded me to be something I was not; cannot stay in one place as long as I know I have one in a million chance of winning you, a piece in the lottery that is greater then the reward; cannot scream for my lungs have given out, my throat has dried out and there are no more tears left to spill for a man who does not look at me twice

You are the first beautiful thing I have latched on to, and you will not be the last I will let go of

The snap-crackle-pop of the Medi-Cali T.H.C.
left me wheezing.
Then dragons and cerebral effigies
come at me with their teasing.

It’s pleasing to say the least,
I’m the man from which came the beast.
Rocking and trolling the northern hemisphere
peeping for a mortal feast.

And peeking through the one sided mirror
was a man who we would never know.
The time that we all lost it
would be the only time that he would ever show.
And you and I.
Well for you and I, it’s safe to say
that the terms are all we know.

A pedigree of me to me
and synonyms for charity.
What a tragic spell I’m barfing on,
next time I'll try the cherry tree.

Crashing atoms of astonishing substance.
That is the nature of our existence,
bouncing about the constancy of physics.
Tied to each other by means
of unexplainable phenomena.
The drama unfolding stubbornly
into a war of races.
One with no one racing.
But when the folks of the future look back on me
they wouldn’t have a foreboding demeanor.
It is so easy to be so arrogant.
My progenies will learn what ?
I bet that when I die,
I’ll be reborn into an alien form.
At least for now,
that’s my objective.