Writing is dangerous a sport
With far too many muscles left to pull
Not only in my body

Writing is far few abstract-I cannot think in words and I cannot label-the day I put it into words it's labeled
And that is dangerous a vote

Thinking is much cleaner yes, for now
They said that thoughts are safe
yet I don't think obscenities in public
And I don't feel obscenities in public

Two sane thoughts a day(required by law) they say will keep the writers away from Fitzgerald's and Virginia's-Poe is still fair ground

They said that diaries were safe, but we writers do not write in public
But sports are played to audiences and votes need to be a-gotten and we writers express our condolences for the death of writing and the birth of Athleticism and Campaigns

Let us be then: you and I
In an exchange of energy, you and me
I will give up for you what you give up to me
And we can exist entirely

But let us go then
And we can debate about the usages of words that no one else but you and I will ever know

And I will love you to the passive voice
You will be loved by me
I will be loved by you


Let us break the second law of thermodynamics
Because you and me
we're better than exchanges of energy
I am perpetual to you and I will be to you a violation of the laws of entropy

Every movement that we make will ease the chaos in our lives
And let us do then what we're not supposed to do
And let me go then where I'm warned not to go
And I will take you and you will take me

Forget entropy
And just love me

You're still the first name I think of when I scan my thoughts scouring for a thought; when I need a thought to drift myself to sleep to

I want to view you as innocence and I did for a long time and I tried to take your reticence as a sign of neutrality, not belligerence or a sense of mocking

How silly was I, to assume that 5 whole months that you refrained from the topic of me was neutral
That you were just moving on, but not on purpose

But oh my, you've become more belligerent than I ever expected a little girl with a shrunken ego to be and my, I didn't think you could say those things about me. But you did.

But, entropy is apt to only consume us; yet, the scatteredness of our atoms cannot explain why you chose to tell me that I am not right in life

You've defended yourself by projecting yourself onto me and my making me the scapegoat so you can pick up some girl that you don't have to ***** to ****.

And I guess that humanists and I are wrong because well
People ******* ****.

I don’t know what to buy nothing seems to
be enough for me

I think about all it took to get to that shelf in
the supermarket; all it took for them to place
that can of soda on a shelf

And then I thought to myself that the same
applies with everyone and everything

How is the twinkle in your left eyeball (the
one I’d stare at as you’d fall asleep to the
sound of my stories, the ones you didn’t
like) any different from the can of sardines at
your local supermarket

I propose that we are all products in an
increasingly capitalistic market

No one wants you in the end

You end up in someone’s cart for twenty
minutes

You take a ride; whilst suffocating in a
plastic bag

You are used and eaten and beaten

You are merely an item

And then you’re over

And then you are to be thrown away

Brought to a landfill

Buried

And finally you are to be forgotten

And the worst part is, that you thought that
you were special

In a world without time love would flourish

There would be nothing to keep track of but
the flutter of your lover’s eyelashes as you
stare into each other

Introspection would not have limits; for time
itself limits the time we spend with
ourselves

In a world without time there would be no
waiting, no worries

You’d wake up every morning with the
thinking about where the sun is and where
the Earth has rotated to; rather than think
about what time a clock says

In a world without time, people would be
paid for their performance

Rather than be paid for hours spend
dawdling their thumbs behind an empty
counter

In a world without time, mothers would love
their children wholly without boundaries,
without time to keep them apart

In a world without time, people would stop
and say hello to you without the impression
that another wave would make them late to
their minimum wage job

In a world without time, I’d hold your hand
and not think “what if she doesn’t like me
this time?”

In a world without time, no one would yell at
you for coming home late

In a world without time, dates would go on
sunrise, sunset and no one would get up
and say “i’m sorry look at the time i really
must be going”

Why would you keep track of time, when
there are so many more beautiful things to
keep track of?

Please don't make me just a story
Of someone that you scored with
A story to tell on tipsy nights
Or a tally mark

I don't want you to see this, I really don't
Because you think that I half-like you
But the glass is getting full
And I'm tired of being used

Please don't delete my number
I know that women are submissive
But I shouldn't have pretended
That I was only lustful

Please don't get mad when I talk about you to my friends
I don't think it's fair to hold my speech
Please don't think I'm clingy when I say hello
Please don't make me watch my words

You are like my hair
Dead, but still a part of me;
I'll only cut you

How does the sun get its radiance emerging from centuries upon centuries of reactions
Similar to the ones in my belly when you walk up to me on our favorite weekends

If true love could exist then why was I born to unhappy parents and unhappy hands tore me out of the womb

And I cannot begin to solve the enigma of how love tends to fade but who am I to say that we were not in love and who am I to decide your fate (my love, you wanted to and you did so very often on our unfavorite weekdays)

And who am I to say I cannot wait until the weekends?
Who am I to wish away five-sevenths of my year to drown myself in 'self-fulfilling' activities that get me through five long days of things I am no longer passionate about?

And to that, I say I am human!
And I am a product of nature and like the pigs and the penguins I like having *** and I like to eat and I shall do as I please!

So please do not try to convince me that I cannot decide for myself; it is this illusion that gets me through three-hundred and sixty five days every year

I watched her sip her coffee in a precarious
manner

She never held on to the handle because the
cup was her life
She didn’t wear her clothes out but rather,
her clothes wore her out

I professed my love to her and told her about
how she removed me from this planet and
reminded me that there are far worse,
mundane things in this world and she was
all that made me happy

And she responded with “okay, but you
know I won’t be coming back because
you’ve made me fathom an existence”

I want to exist in our
Romanticized euphoria
Where we were one
And they were none

I am the birds again this winter
Because I know that it is warmer
In the South these days
But I'd rather exist in the smile in our eyes

And they are none and we are none
Today we do not migrate
And it is colder where you are and I am
Following my instincts

But some of us are anomalies and must
Abandon--redefine our euphoria

And the South was my utopia
Until I romanticized the cold again
And left my flock against my desires
I was forced into the cold without a coat

I couldn't fly and you were there to fix
My wings and force me back into the cold
I always wondered why the birds went South

Let me exist in your South & we'll pretend the North is warm in the winter
I can become your euphoria
If you let me fly;

One who wears a seatbelt
Cannot claim to be unafraid of death

Good morning all my friends have retired

Hello I am running out of things to do to forget that they have all made better plans and that I am not to be included

Good day to you to, zzz I am falling asleep sir

I am feeling my mind deteriorate from a lack of sufficient socialization
Zzzz I am falling asleep again because I don't want to think about it
Zzzzz I keep dreaming about you dearie why'd you go again

I am running out of things to distract myself with; who cares about diction when you don't have any body to spill out beautiful words to

My love, I'm getting close to substance abuse

My love, I'm afraid of trying it I am afraid of artificially feeling like I did before

I am still confused; you are not; I am missing out on something

she* enjoyed my stupid poems about red roses and blue violets
even when it didn't rhyme

and *she loved it when i peeled back a little more and wrote about
the thorns and bushes and why we still took flowers from their roots

but she couldn't read about the roses when they died and
i couldn't peel any further; she still reads my poems about
the way i pretend to be someone i am not

sometimes i wish i could blame my blunders on my two faces
pick my scabs - and maybe i will bleed again.

Let me write poems
On your back; true words don't flow
From ink and paper

<!DOCTYPE html>
I don’t want a love like the fireworks–explosive, colorful, perhaps ideal for Instagram filters
instead a quiet love, for pictures for ourselves: unperfection is no flaw love
I don’t want love like the wind! Don’t run from me; we are more than the seasons
instead let us ditch the way the world can pull on us.
I don’t want a love with you if you love me at my worst
instead make me love you until I’m at my best
I want to go home to midnight talk
and you can bring those elusive
fireworks into my tummy.
</>
forget that i am
double-dipped;
i’m dying to meet you:
no-one in this world
has made me feel much of much of much

repeat words to me you love
even if it’s just the rolling of your tongue
that brings you pleasure’
i can move for you, for you, for you

i have not met you yet–but
when I do, pretend you never read my poems
because this cadence, it didn’t start for you.
I was in love before; in all the wrong ways and places

There are rivers where I left my
teenage innocence
The holidays of my youth are dwindling
please make my mouth curve up
for my last Christmas and birthday as a kid

Make me regret missing dinners with my family
to do drugs I start to need;
don’t meet me. I am better off
</undone>

I wonder if people are like walking; so present and still felt whilst absent

And I've heard "you spend so much time alone" well at least I spend time with someone; alone is not alone
And I've been counting up my good days to the very minute and there still aren't enough

Still waiting for the seasons to change; been stuck in a never-ending winter and I am not my seasons anymore

I am the trees around us that are okay in the winter and that decay once in a while and I am the seeds that come once in a while

I am not time I am human and what a beautiful time to be alive when you're alone and food goes away so fast I believe that if we count our good days we will be content

And I know that I am loved but that is not enough

every word we've ever spoken in english
is just a new combination of 26 letters
the first thing we ever learned is how to
alphabetize in ascending order A-Z

and your name could be any other letter
and your initials have the possibilities
of 26!

and she is four nucleotides in different
combinations - we can count uracil and then
she'd come from an odd number of oxygenated and deoxygenated ribonucleic acids

Thoughts are intrusive
And I am hugging my knees
Hoping for some peace

If rain could kiss the sun,
The clouds, so cold, would feel warm
They'd finally touched the impossible

The sun would smile because
It has always shone alone;
But rain came in and touched its soul
And it prefers company to light

But rain has touched everyone and
Those it shears it longs no more
But the sun thought it was different

But rain is ephemeral
And flames are permanently extinguished
So the sun died down and tried to shine
And it rained on Earth again-no different

he ruined drugs for me the day i met him.

i didn't want to love before--I'm not the same person I was;

i loved someone who never loved me, who never saw
me in any light (i'm still the dark)

he ruined ****; i loved it now its slow palpitations,
turned into waves: i don't feel home at home anymore

i'm drunk to myself
he ruined hard liquor, made every face
seen like his (i love beards now)
it's awesome to pretend i've gotten over someone
months away

free association turns into him--what does he represent?
a desire in my subconscious to be at bay;
something that may never come
i'm not the person i could be when i was happy

i was happy.
i drink beer and get high to forget
the one who gave me my first beer
my first tab
shroom
hard liquor

i'll use these means to travel back to you;
i don't want this, i don't need this
how can i leave these states?
i want to float on clouds

i mean nothing to something in my thoughts
i don't understand
i'll drunk text everyone but you
the one who'd drunk text me

Oooo baby smoke me like the pack of
cigarettes you smoked on the bathroom
floor while sitting in the dark and
contemplating life

Oooo baby kiss me like that pacifier we all
once had; cry if they remove me
Baby cry about the fact that I don’t have any
better nicknames for you and that my comparing you to an infant is so oppressive; read me books
before bed and tell me everything I believe in
is a lie

Oooo tell me to stop and listen to the sound
of you leaving me and then run back home
please [(don't) leave me]

I want to take you
To my place
Where im on cloud 9

Im ****** but I dont want you back
I just want to believe in someone
- i want someone
To be at the same
Level as I
I want someone who I wont look down at

I want to look up to you because of
The heart - we'll never share our organs but i want to measure out your stomach and your liver as much as I want to measure out your mouth
And swivle down your skin and expose the muscle mass you try so hard to hide

So let me make you what i believe in

I have already written about you in every obituary

You were only caught because of a drop of blood; your only life force has gotten you strapped to the electric chair yet you show no emotion; no remorse for years of thievery; you are the insecure narcissist that wallows in self pity and only comes out when there's a 2% chance of rain

I will always write about you; the schema, the concept, the idea of you

*You are the alibi for when my thoughts stray.

I built myself a tower
Climbed atop, to tell the hour

Felt the ground beneath my feet

I built myself a tower; yet, I wonder why I'm higher

I built myself some bridges: Seems like little yellow kisses

I watched the sunset from my tower
I did not hold a cigarette, nor drink some coffee

I watched some people from my tower; ha, look at how they cower

I felt the wind beneath my feet: Oh this must be a repeat!

I remembered the last time I was naked
I remembered that I closed the door
Now, my towers shaking
And I cannot have that anymore

Shall I compare thee to a forest,
Not the artificial ones in the middle of Suburbia Americana
But the real ones, the ones in Brazil, the patches untouched by humanity

Shall I compare thee to the forest?

You gave me a home when I was homeless, my love, you breathe and give me life and I am flattered by your modesty
You have always posed a danger to me, my love, my forest

But I'll take your wet, rainy days and your scorching heat,
If I can have your humid days, your star-filled nights and the days where everything smells nice

My love, I'll take your wolves and bears, if I can be given the honor of laying next to your rabbits in the spring

*

Today you are no longer a forest.

A crew came in, my love, I couldn't do anything about it, it was winter and your soft breaths were keeping me so warm, even though I wasn't cold to begin with

They cut down your trunks, my darling, they tore you apart until you could no longer breathe

They took you away from me, they tore us apart, my love what was I supposed to do?

All of your wolves and bears and rabbits are dead, buried, and gone

I hear you have a new purpose in life, my once beloved, I heard they use you to make paper, I heard you're happy

You always wanted to be famous.

I thank you for being present and I thank you for trying to make me happy

I thank you for your hypocrisy; I learned to spot it out

My love, I've only written about you when I feel sad but today will be different

For even though you left me, something of you stayed

I still have your memories

And that cannot be replaced.

So when you speak ill of me to your new circle of friends, I'll speak of you in terms of the past

For no matter how many phillipics you make of me, you still kissed me on the lips

And that cannot be changed.

In your perspective
I am nothing but a sound.
I am fading, fast.

I met you in the spring or the winter or sometime in early March
I was a bit afraid I suppose
It was a Monday or a Tuesday or some other day of the week (I didn't really care)
I didn't really care about you and I still don't but I met you

You left me on a Sunday or a Wednesday (I am sure of either or)
I kind of care because I was still waiting for that greyhound bus on that busy intersection
I was looking for my glasses at home when I got the phone call
It was over like the ******* police arrested you or somethin' because a day ago you had wanted to marry me or somethin'
But ******* it people change so quickly and I can't keep up with it and I don't want to hear these things

I'm still waiting for that bus

I am religious
Not because I fast or pray
But because I act

My desk, it was facing the other way

It witnessed the two of us: entwined but one whole foot apart; leaning on each other's shoulders; too afraid to get closer

It saw us, shyly, touch each other's fingers yet it couldn't stop it and no electricity flowed between us

It saw us look at each other and look away: a fear of something greater

It saw you type the name of your favorite bands and show me your favorite bands, some of which would become mine and I did the same for you except you stopped listening to all of my music

It saw me sitting, on the phone with you, solving your math problems on its surface, telling you the answers hoping you'd understand

My desk, saw us stay up until 3 in the morning talking about the future we swore would come to us

My desk doesn't face that way anymore

It saw me yelling at you and crying on the phone about you months after my desk seized to see you.

My desk, saw me listen to your favorite bands and saw me stare off into the distance remembering the moment you showed them to me

My desk, is watching me write this and is hearing the background noise of one of your favorite bands

My desk has witnessed ******.

If I had to pick between that moment and a lifetime of moments I am not sure what I'd pick

Yes, that moment is guaranteed, but a lifetime of moments–lovely or not–is much more valuable than a lifetime of contemplation

I'm sure that that moment wasn't as valuable as it felt
Our lives are just alternations between living and dreaming and I am afraid that dreaming is much more productive

Because living always becomes dreaming and thus logically dreaming should become living but it does not and I'd rather live my dreams than dream my life

Except that none of the above can occur

I'm not sure what I'd pick.

I want(ed) people to stop talking to me

So that I c(ould)an think profoundly of you

I want(ed) to go home so that I c(ould)an lay in bed and think of you

I th(ought)ink about you every chance I g(ot)et, my love I d(idn't)on't want you to know this because I know that you don't

Love is(was) thinking about you even when you weren't around

My love, I analyze(ed) every moment that we've spent together from that first time you held my hand to the last I heard of your soft breaths on the phone on a Monday when you left me.

I don't want to fall asleep to the sounds of beautiful music crafted by people so intimately distant from me anymore
And that was when I decided that I was in love one day and it was rather strange
Because I wanted to hear you breathing and hear you living albeit it's a little difficult to arrange but I wanted it

I thought a lot about it and i wasn't convinced about my feelings untill I woke up (a little sleepy) and i was angry

I don't want the bags under my eyes to be caused by bothers and pests and chores I want you to be the sole actor of my dark circles and the only belligerent force causing my daytime sleepiness

But I still cannot be in love because you do not exist.

You have become nothing but a set of electrical signals whirling around my brain (how fun it sounds to be so worry free)

Jumping synapse to synapse as you make your way into my head, once in a while, one in a blue moon, perhaps

You are no longer real you are no longer there and I cannot begin to fathom how this came to be

I no longer utter your name from my lips for it was too familiar to me and it sure as hell hurt to hear myself say your name

And not hear you say mine.

For I am longer a part of your senses and you are no longer a part of mine

And I only think of you when I cannot fall asleep

And this is where I tell myself to stop being a ******* liar because I dream about you all the time

I no longer need my limbs to reach out to you and quite frankly I don't want them anymore; they're always getting me into trouble

For you, the optimist, the portrayal of all that is good in mankind and the epitome of its failures have become the source of my recurring pessimisms

I do not understand why I keep pouring water into my ears in an attempt to drown you out

Only to realize, that it wasn't my ears I was drowning anymore.

it was a day in spring
and my vision was red–a
monochrome of the senses
i look at my knees and they
are scrapped

i look at my eyes and they are red
i look on my bed and i see red,
the bud of the bud is still there
but i do not remember the day

i cannot leave the house;
i’m safer in my thoughts.
i understand why there were
Woolfs and Fitzgeralds before me

i will crystallize those weeks in my
words; we were too happy in
photographs; i go back to the places
we smiled and cannot breathe:
i look at myself and i cannot breathe.

She was once solid
Determined to get the highest marks:
#1 in her class, trying to exceed all expectation

Medicine was her dream; okay with dead bodies and curious as to how they got that way

She came to this country to find something

She was solid
Community college was too expensive
And her bulging belly preceded her whimsical marriage

Her two children, she loved dearly for a good portion of time

Her husband, not so, not faithful, not whole was her love for him; he was all she couldn't be he was solid

She came to every PTA meeting and every class trip
Too attached

She was liquid
She became those around her, those moms at PTA meetings

Sneaking liquor on school busses heading to Disney World; pretending they love their hardworking husbands
And leaving their children

She began to have other aspirations
Dead people didn't fancy her anymore, sanguine faces was all she knew
She was liquid

She let her children go, so young, so foolish
Not whole

The oldest was most appalled and began to act out by not acting out

The oldest was locked away for a bit; the youngest still loved her mothet so sweetly, so faithfully

She was clay
Her friends-which change every year or so
Have molded her
And she is solid

I wanted you to **** me
So I came in fishnets and
We drank the panacea

And I said I'd be your
Aphrodisiac

I got greedy
And I liked the way you held my heart
In between shallow breaths
And I wanted you to love me

In between commercial breaks and
Mouthsful of grapes and gluttony
I wanted to be sinned and to be sinned by only you

I only knew what it felt to be wanted
But I was greedy
And I needed you to love me
But you could only **** me

listen: her gravity,
I want to be the liquid
In her cavities

I COME HOME
REEKING OF ******
NO ONE NOTICES
I THINK MY WORDS ARE
LOUDER WHEN THEY'RE IN
ALL CAPS I WISH THAT YOU COULD HEAR ME
WHY ARE WE ALONE?

I'M PRETTY HAPPY BUT
I NEED YOU
AND I WANT TO BE SOMEONE
YOU WANT

i have to remember that
they are better in my memories
time uses its sweet fog to water down
the bitter Whisky of the past

i want to know that it is futile to
remember things that are dead
i want to live in a present with no past,
like christmas day

to be free of them and all of
the stunted growth of my youth
i am incongruous for faults
not of my own

to be whole again, to wash my
body clean of dirt i never
meant to get beyond my clothes
i wish it was simple

i live in a pink fog of discontent,
uncertainty and an entropy
that is only exacerbated
by soft touch and holiness

but i live for times when my
head is at bay; no reticent lover,
no sweet life could divert me
from my path again

As I lay in my bed
I think of thoughts that are best left unsaid
And I scrape and I scratch and search the cabins of my brain
And I take it with a grain
Not of salt, not of pepper
Not even bo bepper
But a grain of *******
And I snort and I covert until I feel it in my nose
And the substance makes its way to my toes
And it's fast and it's brash
And I suddenly crash

And that's only with a little hello

She said, "I don't think we should kiss. God is watching. And good girls don't kiss."
And I said, "Stupid girl, God doesn't have time for us."

And she got mad because I made the cross around her neck hurt
And she was sad because she spent all her Sundays in church praying to god that she'd be cleansed

But I stole that kiss and she asked that I wouldn't tell God and she cried because god doesn't hear her praying for him to cleanse her

Yet she didn't hesitate to kiss me; she forgot about her god, *******, yet I felt no guilt to take the cross off of her neck

She lost her necklace and stopped going to church but she still prays that someone will cleanse her

i said i'd speak to you on January 1 at 12:01
a new year, a new year i supposed
I thought maybe I'd be a part of your new years resolutions
But who really accomplishes those?

I thought about it every second until new years and i crafted my sentences ever so eloquently

And I knew you'd laugh at me because you never thought of me in those moments and those are parts of my life that i cannot redeem

My love, I don't know what's wrong because I'm not in love with you I just want to say hello

But it's February and I never really pressed send

But I imagine that I did

And that, has made all the difference. Goodnight.

I want to go inside the house
Where everyone else is playing and singing

But I'm still on the porch looking in
I knock, but cannot be heard over the sound of friendships much louder than mine

I want to be inside this house, but every time I've been inside my feet stay out the door

I tried to go through the backyard, but thie house is double locked

I broke the windows of the house on 98th St and 96th Terr and saw what was inside
It rained that day and I was still outside on the lawn now looking in

Every thing I need is in that house and I'm hungry and thirsty

I can't go inside because the residents who brought me in don't live there anymore and I cannot keep up with new tenants

I hope I'll find someone who's locked out of a home

Find the thing you love and ask yourself, "where'd this come from?"

Keep asking until your down to atom
Find a thing you love up to its subatomic parts

Take a thing you love and squeeze it
You have the power to destroy the thing you love
You know where it's from

Make a thing you love from scratch
Send it to college and tell it to get a real job

The universe is attractions

I had a dream that I was weightless
I was unconscious, but my eyes were open
I couldn't speak but I was conscious

And everyone I ever cared to impress
Gathered around me and picked me up
And ***** me

And laughed at me and carried me
Around like I was crowd surfing at a concert
But there wasn't any music playing

I didn't have a way to break out
Of their grasp
So I closed my eyes

I still pretend they're open.