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704 · Jun 2014
elías
I had known you in the womb
telepathically - or possibly a ghost
a lost twin or lost soul
(maybe not, you were four)
or maybe
all of existence and time -
as cosmic brothers
and my neighboring universe
or a shared galaxy
because when you walked in
my legs were crawling back to me
after a long hike through the seven summits
and my arms have paddled through the seven seas
to joyfully return to land
twisted and contoured
so painfully blissful to see the shore
and the meteors about shouted
from the sky in their tapered bleeding orange gowns
of eldritch scripts and manuals
rejoice rejoice rejoice rejoice rejoice

yet I cannot say your name correctly
(like an ancient hieroglyph yet to be understood by scholars)
I'm sorry that I cannot
hopefully you will whisper it to me
as I sleep
so it will never be forgotten again
For a friend
486 · Jun 2014
daniel
you're the reason for all my morning toothaches, heartaches, long distance problems and sitting by a mailbox waiting for a letter. I still wake up at seven even though it's summer break- all my friends sleep in until noon. You sent your letter on Sunday, then why isn't it in my arms or is it just in my dreams? Or is the postal service just lacking or taunting me and wanting to laugh by a girl sleeping by a mailbox.

Before you left all you said was "I'm sorry," but you don't realize I was playing the first day of my life up until the very moment you knocked on my door. And yes I was born again the moment I met you- but you on the other hand. . .

I'm sorry too, maybe I just make you into a manic pixie skater dream boy who's supposed to get rid of all my problems and I'm so self destructive that maybe I cant be saved but I think you're my color coordination and your hand holding any one else's terrifies me

Is this a love poem? I can't tell anymore I've been by this mailbox for so long. Everyone always puts me by the mailbox.
"Just wait"
"you're too young"
"we are simply too far apart"
That's okay. I am waiting. Waiting an eternity for whoever decides to show up because I had crossed their mind. I hope it's you. If not, thats okay.
I'm okay
465 · Jun 2014
autobiography
It was a Wednesday, the most uninteresting of days. You had decided to go out for a walk to the local downtown thrift store. It was hot like the womb, and you needed something to do. When a arrived you see a bin, "ten cent books" it reads. Looking in it you are immediately drawn to the newest hardback book in the bin. It seems to be an autobiography. "You wouldn't want that," the cashier says, "no one seems to understand it." You are intrigued as to why. The page turns to 127 and you see something unexpected. Letters so far apart and strung together in the absent white sheet. You wonder if this is some kind of abstract/alt literature garbage those younger are into these days. Turning back over to the cover you see clearly, "myself and no one else" written in a child like sprawl. The authors name is simply bannered across the bottom in the same fashion. The book is dark blue and heavy- even though it looks the opposite. You are drawn into this book immediately, throw ten cents on the counter- and leave. Scanning pages on the way home, interpreting and decoding, like it was your first Nancy Drew novel all over again. The book whispers to you it's secrets. By the time you have arrived at your home you seem to begin to understand, yet you begin to deconstruct. Beyond page 127 was page 128 and page 129, and on and on they went. No real content or words were written, only ideas. The mystery of page 127 and all the other 127s had not seem to unfold itself to you. Maybe beginning at page one would help, you say as you flip again to the cover page. The book exhaled into you as the pages creaked. The first pages only had pictures of the universe and galaxies in black and white. This continued for many pages and stopped when the spaces began. the words began to unfold as you read closely, a few read "ideas" by page 80. There were a few key words, "universe" "idea" "self" "myself" "womb" "embryo." You felt a silent agreement with the book. Could one simply sum up their life into a few measly pages? People do not even develop a sense of self until they are a few months old. Time is but a concept, people think it moves so quickly because they simply become accustomed to it. As they develop and grow this becomes apparent, "life is short," but that is never the case. People start out as ideas, is that when the concept of life starts? You are not alive but you are living as an idea. This is as  opposed to conception as a beginning point. Or is it that you are always simply living, because matter cannot be created nor destroyed. You were simply rearranged to create a breathing body. The author and many authors were forever existing, their page 127 was all the same. Ideas within a universe. Ideas within an omnivores. Ever expanding. Their stories never end, because people will simply rearrange and expand as something new. The book had caused you to think, maybe it was all pretentious nonsense- or maybe something else. Suddenly it was midnight. You were so enthralled and intrigued by the half empty pages time had beaten you in it's own game. You placed the book down and decided to simply think about it later.  Because there is always more time.
434 · May 2014
flesh
i have always dreamed of writing something about the beauty of nature and earth that would be so meticulously written and elegant that an audience would simply be floored by the sheer pulchritude in words. but i have never found myself so inspired by the snowy covered mountains in the bareness of winter, nor am i stirred by the golden deserts of the south, neither am i provoked by the wafting wheat and grassy grain in the prairies. instead i am inspired by the geographical grandeur of those who walk around myself. i am amazed by the intricately complex valleys and rifts on curves of humans, and the supple folds of their mountains and canyons. yet the truest beauty lies not in the obvious- no it lies in the crevices and nooks of people; the faintest subtle blue rivers that trace their every twist and turn that carry the life in them. it's in the radiant flower like colored bruises and blisters and cheeks in the cold. and in how the footsteps and movement of aging, and within the scrapes and scars that truly tell a tale for all to see. to be shouted for ages, full of sorrow and feats and of struggles but also of laughter and sheer joy that you could not simplify into a verse of a poem. and in the knobby bumps and ridges in their fingers and awkward joints- that when you hold them, they make you rethink how you have never believed in a god
the black and white striped bike made you seem so edgy
that zoomed past when I dare not look
no! I could not ever dare
to the x that stained your hand personally
personality
that changed who you were
(but did it ever)
and the dramatic babble that seeped through
(that was truly just pathetic nonsense)
you spurred about
your sad sad frown
(that grazed my own)
and to your lost eyes
misanthropy,
(from which I’m not sure who dares go)
nor touch nor see
anymore
not
anymore
about an ex. this is for myself. and no one else
378 · Jun 2014
universal longing
the empty space and atmosphere between us
is always bending
morphing
growing
and shrinking.
the air we breathe is the same
and
the universe and stars
that hang above our stage
is shared.
my moon
is also yours
and the ancients before us.
if I called your syllables into the void
eventually
it will always find it's way back to you,
drifting and floating
along the particles and dust
that separate
cities states and countries apart
only by invisible lines
drawn in the sand
hopefully you will smile
when you hear
the darkness sing sweetly
your name
and
you'll know
I have a lot of feelings ok
370 · Jun 2014
I don't love
silence creeping towards me
I think I have to go now
the vinyl will rotate slowly
dust filling grooves and memories in the empty room
setting
breathe in
never again
everything is everything was everything
kiss the tears off your cheek
do not fret
nothing is forever
dreaming is existence
reality is gone
rejoice to your old prayers
reality is goodbye
366 · May 2014
dawn
I still think about the things
you showed me in your apartment
with such excitement as a child
and my inherent fondness towards you

I still think about how you instabilities and
the t i c king ideas that kept you awake and bustling
until your eyes forced your body to
shut down

I still think about the golden sunrise
and sky on the day the police
found your mind scattered across an empty
kitchen floor

I still think about and wonder what would of happened if my mom had picked up your phone call at three in the morning

I still think about your empty house,
your empty head
you're empty
I showed this to my mother, all she said was "I think about that phone call every day"
336 · May 2014
mix cd: eremophobia
I could not find the word for phobia of commitment- but I'm sure it would resonate so well within you much like the ideas and philosophies of the sunrise in the golden hours hitting the trees as they whisper and call to the very fiber of your being so instead I titled this the fear of being alone as it reverberates against me like the ideas of gods, morality, and the cosmos and speaks and moves myself as the trees do you
Mix cd title for you
252 · May 2014
Untitled
sometimes the thunder blows through the empty windows of a house simply to remind itself of people inside it that threw 16th birthday parties and watched the birth of their own crumbling aching bones that can't ever seem to catch a break from all the tests and designer dresses and drugs that they put on to impress the one person who they think makes the feel most alive and special when you thought you were going to collapse like an old star in the universe and take everything in their own little universe with them like that old creaking house in the rain
Written on my chemistry notes

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