To finish anything in entirety requires a full circle- and goodbye is a picky eater. Good is the pieces of pie fully enjoyed already- don't forget the fingertips good. The ones licked crisp and clean from the plasticware every time. While bye remains the uneaten slices spoiling silence in the kitchen. Crumbs too stubborn to move along, to move anywhere at all. Notice these slices never once greeted each other on a dinner plate- and there is no place for distance during dessert.

2. Goodbye is invisible ink scribbled too quickly for certainty. Proper sendoffs deserve the type of visibility that billboards form. So if you have the audacity to send seven letters my way disguised as our final embrace- I will unwrap your formality, like 5am Christmas morning, and pretend I'm on the naughty list. Hidden messages lack a sense of transparency that leaves only second guessing and farewells should need no crystal *****.
Goodbyes are as good as guesswork- and we are not fortune tellers.

3. Goodbye implies loss or rejection, but well wishes are meant for times
when loss is undeniably absent. Wishing wells bathe separation with good intentions- each copper coin anointed an underwater masterpiece.
While goodbye addresses detachment with partial reflections, splitting waves too strict for clarity. So all I see are the ripples of me spread too thin, the pieces of me scattered in every direction. Goodbye wishes no one well.

4. Goodbye is simply one word. Goodbye is not naturally destructive. Goodbye is no vocal cord villain.
Words are neither inherently good nor bad because we ascribe their significance, but evidence suggests a one word farewell serves innocent ears unjust death sentences.

5. The moment you allow I love you to skydive from your tongue, the word goodbye steals the parachutes mid-launch causing fatal free fall to artificial grass your hands never actually planted. This land is lunar rock rare- desolate when day breaks.
Goodbye is not fertilizer for greener pastures- rather an open invitation for wildfire to reduce the cosmos to ashes.

6. Endings are inevitable and sometimes quite necessary. And I'm not suggesting we prolong foregone conclusions. But our parting words need not necessarily be regrettable. Goodbyes are often stressed in tragic spectacles only designed for Broadway stages and sometimes all that's needed
is a genuine platform to stand on to say something like-- I'll miss you or I'm not ready for this or I can't do this anymore.


7. Goodbye is not a last resort.
Last resorts lead to final destinations you never come home from and you were never home, you were never home for me, you were always goodbye. Goodbye was your one way ticket to paradise, the kingdom your words worshiped and call me a traitor if you must, but the paradox you fundamentally found comfort in is tyranny trapped in one breath.
And that's never been comforting enough for me to believe in, never been real enough for me to hold.
Goodbye is sweet sorrow- one hollow word that makes your smile hurt.
It's solid rain on sunny days, stolen hearts on lay away. It's two syllables that were forced to hold hands that were never ever friends to begin with.
Goodbye is an oxymoron- and it will never justify your warm hello.

Yesterday tasted like teardrops
Each droplet the loneliest messenger
The saline was tougher than usual this time
It skipped my cheek bone
Lit up my taste buds like gunfire
And now my mouth is drowning in the vowels tomorrow has to offer

Yesterday felt like monster truck tire marks
On the junk car assembly line
Yesterday never felt this deadly before
Those weapons
The ones with dragons painted on the side
The big purple ones with names like Beast or Destroyer
With fire decals that looked fake enough to smile at
Were real enough to crush us
Crush yesterday
Crush everything we always wanted to be
And I've never been so ready for nothing to exist

Yesterday sounded like daffodils in December
The silence only former lovers know
Each petal looking for one last chance you know it doesn't deserve
Yesterday sounded like a good time to give up
To get the hell out of here
Yesterday makes a fool of the horizon
Pretending there is nothing worth searching for
Like there is nothing left at all

It’s morning
Today hits you in the forehead with a spitball
Grabs you out of bed
Points you to the windowsill
And smiles

You turn around
Bed just out of arm's reach
But today taps you on the shoulder
Leans in and whispers the good news mom used to leave you with at the bus stop
It blends in with the cool breeze for a moment
You go outside
Grab that jacket your grandmother bought you last Christmas
Zip it up right above your bellybutton
And remember the wind can give the best advice

Today brought you your favorite mixtape
The one you left in your high school locker
And today likes the stereo real loud
You cruise with the windows down all day
You drive west
Swear you can beat the sunset
You imagine you're driving a monster truck
And you destroy today
Take everything you ever wanted back
You see yesterday in the rear view mirror as you approach the beach

It's dusk

You smile

You jump right in the water and know there's no turning back

I wish I could forget
Pack my bags and leave my mind
Just for a little while
Maybe then I could find peace
Or anything but this
I need to be released
Get out of this trap
And piece myself together
Run free from such hopeless hopes
And decrease my stormy weather

As I watch the sun evaporate today
I'm sure you wished it luck
Awaiting its safe return
This is a strange sensation that I'm facing
Bittersweet memories of when you faded away

You've been gone for quite some time now
Leaving true intentions in open view
You only crossed the ocean upon first snowfall
But this transatlantic separation
Has only brought me closer to you

It reminds me that distance was our specialty
Our love cast out into distant atmospheres
Only vagabonds dared to see
And we examined every inch of stratos between us
Connecting all the constellations we perceived

But you cried out for home far too often
And I tried to climb through space far too soon
It seems my courage was only matched by your convenience
A collection of defenses sent out on hot air balloons
A contradiction floating freely to the moon

So while I hold onto every flickering excuse
As you journey through the unknown
I hope you realize how fitting this trip may seem
For the first time you left your worries at home
A step you always skipped with me

I think I'm going blind.
I'm under the impression you've disappeared.
That you're gone for good.
That you've eliminated yourself from my retinas in order to escape my mile wide stare.
That you've constructed homes under tombstones hoping I'd mistake you for
A box of under-appreciated skeletal remains
Because all you've ever wanted is to be dead to me.
Like you wanted my eyes to forget about their day job and resort to conceptualized adultery
Because God forbid I commit to an honest day's pay.
I've never intentionally visualized imaginary fabrications.
But the truth is, my eyes do everything but tell the truth.

1. My eyes write monotonous picture books with your face plastered on every single page
Just to recreate your physical beauty time and time again
So the world knows your look tops my mind's best seller list.

2. My eyes climb mountain tops and skinny dip in stormy seas
Because sometimes crazy is the only way I can get you to look at me.

3. My eyes fly hot air balloons carried by the echoes of your soft spoken sentences
As if exhaust pipes could spew such sweet nothings into the night sky.

4. My eyes invade foreign lands with every intention of burning down
Prehistoric villages and discovering your secret hideaway because I too
Want to know how it feels to savagely destroy former sacred territory.

5. My eyes struggle out of bed every morning.  Not even
Three shots of espresso can perk my eyes up enough
To allow the radiation you still give off enter my pores.

I think I'm going blind.
Or maybe I just can't see straight.
Or be straight up with you and tell you how it takes every part of me
To not gauge my own eyes out for betraying the rest of my body.
It takes every part of me to admit my misjudgments spawned the downfall of it all.
Because I told you I saw the two of us trekking through unfamiliar lands
With each stride another step towards our destiny.
Because I told you I saw something in your eyes
That gave mine the ability to smile.
Because I told you I saw us redefining what infinity
Looks like to the senseless visionary.
But my eyes don't tell the truth.
I'm going blind.

This is for the outspoken racists
The short-sighted chauvinists
The one-sided misogynists
And every avid supporter of any form of intolerance

I think it's time I give you a piece of my mind
Allow me to crack through my cranium and you can
Extract whichever lobe of my brain you find suitable to fix your mental feebleness

Take my frontal lobe, I beg you because
Your so called conscientious thoughts
Permanently belong in the dumpster
Your brain flies confederate flags at half mast
As a constant reminder that even if
The South doesn't rise again you can still rest
Knowing you wave ignorance blissfully in the air

Or maybe you should have my parietal lobe
Since your manipulation of information is highly suspect
I suspect you've placed bigotry and hostility under solid ground
Equipped with enough racial slurs and misogynistic remarks
To blow up this whole town
Homegrown nouns and verbs conducting your own personal weapon of mass destruction
Corrupting the ears that welcome your mushroom clouds

Then again, your occipital lobe is out of whack too
Considering whether gray clouds paint the sky or
Royal waves reflect golden rays
All you ever see is black or white, gay or straight
Wrong or right, hate and hate
And I hate to break it to you
But you are blind to the beauty before us all
Your eyes fail to focus in on how we all
Lose scarlet plasma to paper cuts
Gain white hair and hardened scars
And share copper casket homes six feet deep

I almost forgot about your temporal lobe
That needs an entirely new design
Because it seems as though through all of this outrage
You can't process the filth in your mind
Like the smell of your own rotten attitude
Escapes your nostrils and pollutes the openness around you
Preventing any genuine intention the air it needs to breathe

Your entire brain is a train wreck
You need professional intellectual injections
Red pen corrections that can transform your neural network
Into a well-oiled machine fueled by tolerance
Overflowing with premium petroleum enhanced with high grade sensitivity to diversity

I want your synapses to fire positive discussions
Rather than recreate cerebric tyranny
I want your gray matter to mind its manners
To render exceptional positions
So your point of view refuses to point fingers
I want your prejudices pressure washed so far down
Your head's highway that they resort to becoming full-time pedestrians
I want your ability to communicate eliminated unless
You annihilate the venom from your vocabulary

But the choice is yours
You're voice is yours
And I won't take it from you
This is not a debate nor a dispute over your vernacular
Hate speech is undeniably your native language
And unfortunately you own the right to be as wrong as your words allow you to be
Instead this is merely a message that I hear your hostility
A not so subtle reminder that your narrow-mindedness is nauseating
And this society has enough deadly diseases to deal with
To drill your acceptance defect straight through your skull
But please feel free to take any part of my mind
And find the time to perform your own lobotomy
So maybe then you'll understand
That intolerance has no place in anyone's anatomy

9-1-1, What is your emergency?
I seemed to have lost my sense of urgency.
I froze.
Which is funny, because undoubtedly
You used to be the one cold as ice.
I sat there.
My thoughts hovered around my mouth
But lacked any sort of volume,
Thus remaining a mystery to the operator.
I needed help though.
And usually I turned to you in these situations
But since you fled the scene
Fearing the certainty of an imaginary apology
I turned to the only logical choice left in my semi-delusional brain.
I've been attacked, please help me*
I finally mustered up the energy to form
Sounds similar enough to that phrase.
Just enough so this woman could send me
Someone with the proper credentials and
Experience for such bizarre circumstances.
The policemen arrived.
They investigated the scene.
Doing their due diligence while I laid motionless on the pavement.
They looked for clues.
Studied for anything that could lead them to you.
I guess my words weren't grounded in truth.
And although I knew only one suspect remained at-large
They carried on with no substantial leads or possible breakthroughs.
The only arrest that occurred
Was the false imprisonment of my heart in yours.
There was no bail set and parole will likely be denied.
What a deadly criminal at large.

9-1-1, What is your emergency?
I seemed to have lost my sense of urgency
I froze
Which is funny, because undoubtedly
You used to be the one cold as ice
I sat there
My body solidified above the concrete
But my faults began spilling out from my very being
Becoming a temporary repair for the fault lines along the road
9-1-1, What is your emergency?
The operator mimicked her opening line
With remarkable consistency
But my ears are not the problem here
I've always been a good listener
You told me that every now and then
And although I interpreted her question rationally
It was your final farewell that still had me perplexed
My breathe walked with you as you departed
Mostly due to your uncanny way with words
You used your utterances as building blocks
Crafting such a painful path with your magnificent mouth
Your condolences were candy-coated consolation prizes
Awarding my sincerity halfheartedly
And this heartbreak is my podium now
So while I lean on it willingly
Raising fate above my head as my only trophy
Know that I'm struggling with my acceptance speech
I've always had trouble wording my verbage
And expressing my sensations efficiently
So bear with me while I materialize this message

9-1-1, What is your emergency?*
Dispatch sounds distressed at this point
And I'm desperate for a proper resolution
So I try to recollect my mental resources
And muster up the ability to announce my anecdote properly
In order to explain my crisis precisely
And what comes next is nothing
My thoughts hovered around my mouth
But lacked any sort of volume
Thus remaining a mystery to the operator
And typically I turned to you in these situations
When my words became my worst nightmares
You see, you always knew what to say
You always responded with world class precision
And I need an expert's advice every now and then
But since you fled the scene
Fearing the certainty of an imaginary apology
I struggled with summing up my situation
I've been attacked, please help me
Finally I mustered up the energy to form
Sounds similar enough to that phrase
Close enough so this woman could send me
Someone with the proper credentials and
Experience for such misconstrued circumstances
The detectives arrived and investigated the scene
Doing their due diligence while I laid motionless on the pavement
They looked for clues
Studied for anything that could lead them to you
But I guess my words weren't grounded in truth
And although I knew only one suspect remained at-large
They carried on with no substantial leads or possible breakthroughs
The only arrest that occurred
Was the false imprisonment of my heart in yours
There was no bail set and parole will likely be denied
What a deadly criminal at large

Who knew
Late night constructs
Could turn into such
Disastrous dilemmas
My mind races
But not around a track
Or some make-shift run way
Where runners go
To get away from such issues
I stay the course
Practicing patience
As if I really knew
What made people want to stay
It's sad
Because I really do
Is that silly?
Am I foolish?
For wanting to be here
To stay so still
Thus eliminating progress
To provide some sort
Of comforting process
To rest on the simple fact
That things just aren't that simple
Are they?

Déjà vu
only exists
for those
whose eyesight
has amnesia

Eloquence is irrelevant in times of relevance
For it is not the beauty of the words that sets precedence
Rather the idea behind them that shows brilliance
Any man can speak articulately without substance
There is no power behind such simulated statements
Those with complete control of their clarity claim valiance
So, go forth and form your feelings with eloquence absent

In the distance I can hear the preacher man scream Gospel verses to the patrons with ears tried enough to listen.

On this table I meet one hundred ants who didn't know the end would come sooner than expected
Some survivors mourn the table cloth body count.
Others trample on without worry.

Forgive them Father, they know not what they do

Forgive them Mother, they lost fathers and mothers too

The struggle comes not from death but the belief that your fate is greater than the fallen before you.

I watch this congregation.
Hear the prayers of those still struggling to find the most peaceful way to apologize.

And it all stops.
At this time I wonder if heaven can be folded up and shaken out this easily.
If angels ever feel their wings begin to fall this fast.

My gut reaction remains the same
shade of grey I remember finger painting yesterday.
The smears cloak my fingerprints
like manuscripts of the negative.
Sharp enough to break through the holiest of sentiments.
It's night two in the dark alone when I call on the ghosts.
Exercise the demons so I may leave the couch at once and turn the lamp on.
Warm bodies approach- blurred yet familiar- radiating only eyes.
Dull and full of assumptions.
I can't respond.
I reach out and watch as effort manifests as motionless limbs again.
Now, my eyes neither open nor closed, identify nothing.
My hands, palms dripping a simple shade of gloom I've come to embrace, greet my brow.
Grey sweat covers this grey reflection and these paintbrush arms I own just want to get up and live.
In color again.

My gut reaction remains the same
shade of grey I remember finger painting yesterday.
The smears cloak my fingerprints
like manuscripts of the negative.
Sharp enough to break through the holiest of sentiments.
It's night two in the dark alone when I call on the ghosts.
Exercise the demons so I may leave the couch at once and turn the lamp on.
Warm bodies approach- blurred yet familiar- radiating only eyes.
Dull and full of assumptions.
I can't respond.
I reach out and watch as effort manifests as motionless limbs again.
Now, my eyes neither open nor closed, identify nothing.
My hands, palms dripping a simple shade of gloom I've come to embrace, greet my brow.
Grey sweat covers this grey reflection and these paintbrush arms I own just want to get up and live.
In color again.

I woke up this morning with a strange sensation
One in which I've never experienced before.
You see, I've been an optimist since the first day I can remember
So, you'd be surprised to hear that this morning I jumped out of bed half-heartedly
With nothing but a frown framed on my head.
My smile migrated to the part of town where thunderstorms organize chaos.
The slums that build up suspicion on dishonest interpretations
Like cardboard stepping stones laid across twin towers
Waiting for you to make one false move to your demise.
Making my quest to rid the world of adversity an uphill climb.
So on my way to foreign lands, I'll be keen to point out some observations
That my adversaries so effortlessly use against me
In an attempt to create a more balanced divide.

1. But you just drank out of that glass, it can't be half-full!
Well, sirs and madames, I do declare your awareness
Of my quenched thirst is rather scientific.
However- if you'd allow me a refill of your finest ale
I would appreciate your hospitality.
You see- I come from the mentality that everyone should drink until he or she covets.
Whether that be the midpoint of the glass or ten times over
My worries pay no mind to where the liquid lies.
I'm much more concerned that everyone tries as many beverages as desired upon.

2. You're far too idealistic. You don't live in the real world!
In fact- you are mistaken kind friends!
I do indeed live in the same world as you do
Creating mistakes in ways we all do.
However, unlike hardy drill sergeants
Who require unanimity in motion
I prefer to march to a different tune.
One where petty mishaps are embraced as they cross the finish line
As if the faulty foot prints left behind are our soul's signatures.

3. You are so happy. You must have all the answers!
Guess again my friends, that is the farthest from the truth.
Truthfully, my focus includes healthy doses of impartial reflections
So I can stay present on current intentions without foggy mental actions
Clouding my space with thoughts on nothing more than speculation.
Although my desire to reach Einstein's heights is ever-present
I understand the importance of staying mindful
Being incredibly comfortable erasing an impressive chalkboard
When it becomes too messy.

4. You are so nice, you must not hate anything!
Ah, wouldn't that be pleasing!
But, even I have negative feelings towards some things.
For instance, my hatred is provoked by negativity.
I hate the word hate and I hate that others resort to such awful actions so easily.
I understand that circumstances provide the opportunity for conflict to arise
But is it necessary for situations to instantly become awry?
I'm under the impression that hostility can be halted hastily
With honest consultations between any clashing parties.

5. You seem so content, do you ever have a bad day?
Uncommon to popular belief, my emotional responses do not always inflict joy into my veins.
It's funny because when using my strengths, sometimes I still trip on my weaknesses.
Sometimes I always lie sleepless on the wrong side of the bed.
Sometimes I always stay hopeless on the strong side of my head.
It's funny because I wouldn't want it any other way.
Sometimes the only thing we need is a reminder of the better days.
Because what's the meaning of life without the struggles we've gone through?
It's funny because my bad days are my best days too.

Inevitably
Nothing
Develops
Entirely
Pure but
Equality
Never
Dreamed of
Evoking
Nights of
Contemplated
Evil.

Devastating
Anomaly?
Yes.

From my bedroom, I imagine what it would take to become nothing. Some days, all I am is the comforter. Others- the mattress. I could waste away and become this bedframe forever. I mean, I've been thinking and what does it mean to be here anyways? I mean, how much effort is required to exist in these tired sheets? This narrowed gaze some called alive once is fearful of the windows now. The walls shrink across these hallowed bones and here is heaven. Spirits rising or angels falling. Here I am. The casket sits below this windowsill where the dust collects and dares me to make the first move. Home is stuck between these rib bones and I've been looking for a way out for a while now. Existing just hard enough for a pulse. Some scattered breaths. Feet face down stuck above the floor boards- quivering towards their next step. Yet I am here. Seem too worried about the timing of it all. And how I never loved the ground enough. Never cherished that fertile soil swelling beneath these feet until it could become me. And what now? Escape this body?  Suffocate under the promises these pillows keep? Or stand.

Reach out
and feel nothing
where everything
used to hide

If I could go back
I'd erase those silly arguments we had.
The ones where both of us were right
And neither of us wrong.

If I could go back
I'd buy you more flowers just because
I know how much a single rose
Illuminates your soul.

If I could go back
I'd take you to the beach a lot.
Knowing that your shine would fight
The Sun's rays. And win.

If I could go back
I'd make you smile again
Because your beauty protruded
Through both corners of your lips.

If I could go back
I'd memorize each and every word
You said to me as you walked away.
A token of your memory.

If I could go back.
But I can't go back.
So I'll choose to forget former incidents
And focus on future hazards.

The simplicity I'm searching for
Hides beneath my fingernails
Occupies the dark spaces I refuse to frequent
Consumes the sweet fumes I forget to swallow

I've been told I overthink things
It has never been about mountains or molehills
I always see land big enough for shelter
I do not need reasons
This is what worries me
I hesitate all the time
Then I think I know
Then I know I know
Then I see you in public and you're laughing
And I can't tell if you're laughing at me
So I smile
Not because I want to
But because I think you want me to
And suddenly I don't know anymore
But I wonder if everyone else knows
Or if you know
Then I'm back beneath the mountain
Or the molehill
And I don't give a **** about geomorphology
I just want to see you
walk to the highest peak and shout your name
And watch the echos vibrate off my chest
This is what worries me most

What I need
Is the courage to say exactly what I intend
Believe I already own this certainty
Live within the in between

The ceiling launches
vicious missiles
while I lay prone.
Defenseless.

Since when
has my presence
provoked such a
suicidal sentence?

It was a Wednesday
The September weather impersonated summertime shine
But my eyes were barbed wire to the shimmer
Twisted and tied shut to the summer
Refusing to adjust to the glow
I entered that classroom alone
An intruder
I thought we were all intruders there
Social Work 1140- Minority Perspectives
Peacefully confined to the classroom blackboard
Caged up reality for protected heads to understand
We all sat situated in straight lines
Staring at chalk too bright to comprehend
Silent minds creating the kind of noiselessness only known to tiptoe
We all tiptoed there
Wiggled into tiny seats small enough for suffering
Yet large enough for complacency
The pseudo-summer heat peaking through the curtains
Draped over certain advantages we dare not speak
We all closed our eyes in unison
Wondered when the suffering began
Wondered when the wondering would end
Avoiding chalkboard glares and awkward eye contact
But the chalkboard glares started staring contests
And the eye contact was too awkward to ignore now
I was a sophomore
I wore freight train headlights
I was a trojan warhorse in broad daylight
I was an intruder there

My professor excused our intruderness upon her entrance
Transforming foolishness to fuel the mood
She must be an intruder too
It was noon
And this room of undercover drummers
Marching to different tunes was nothing new for her
She saw the truth in us
Stared the vulnerability away
Spread sunlight sanctuaries through our brains
Our eyes no longer wandering through oblivion
Wondering when the wondering would end
It all began when she said
I think it's time we all open our eyes
We looked confused
Eyes expanding to bite size balloons
Placing helium time bombs at the foot of her news
I stared at the fuse
And she stared at our staring daring us to make the next move
But we refused
Cause it was barely noon
And that's too soon for collective movements
No time for any inch of improvement
We all refused to move
Thankfully she resumed
I want you to look around this room
And understand one thing
Your story is the only proof you bring here
The only sword you swing here
And this is no home for fresh bruises
We are all safe in this room

I sat there in silence
I've always been an overabundance of riches
A treasure chest filled to the brim
But in this moment my gold is good for nothing
My sword is null and void
Skull and crossbones to understanding
My Excalibur belongs permanently stuck in stone
I never opened my eyes that way before
Only saw what I assumed was true
My once royal empire collapsed around my desk
Tears dropped like fallen gemstones crashing the class discussion
I sat there in silence
I sat there alone
Refused to tell my story
Refused to feel so low
It's a tough pill to swallow
Acknowledging you have lived with privilege your entire life
So I sit here in silence
Choking on my silver spoon
Looking for the way to say
I don't want to be an intruder anymore