Have you ever held your hand still
Just above a river’s passing water
Liquid rushing by reaching for your skin
Jumping up; eager to commune with you
Beckoning you to dip a finger in

one time there was a summer(right before it)where
deliberate of short and blackest hair came a girl
between familiar and un arriving in a slender vessel
feeling untouched a bit raw virginal needing of
hand's barest singe took off all her clothes in my room
and was so cute a tiny wall of blood

                                                                   snarled
                                                                                
                                                                                 sighed


                                                                                            broke
                                                                                            a little ocean scarlet
                                                                                            (from her hips)

The music of life, at times, is a raucously *** concert
of ominously monotonous melodies sung sirenically
by voluptuously ugly monsters.

Curvaceous enough to flaunt the fact they’re actually ****.
Which makes you feel like an *** but that’s just the way
it was meant to be.

Then the chorus bombs in, and the song starts to get sweeter
since the tune becomes a lot like Bob’s album: Street-Legal.
But as quick as you can nictitate, the ****** you anticipate

flicks away like a spark that was never gonna be lit-to-flame.
And so revert the monsters, their obnoxiously off-key verse,
somehow being, paradoxically, still acceptably heard.

And I almost forgot to mention how horrifyingly awkward
the gawking audience dances! Watching it is honestly
the most awful part of this non-senseness.

Parallel to you who finds comfort in the light,
I find peace where you flutter, in the depths of night.

You’re chased and swatted and hurtled outside,
I do hope you can find somewhere bright to hide.

For my darkness is my contentment, peaceful, serene
My mind falls absent, happily empty of the obscene.

Does the darkness outside, fill you with trouble and worry
Like the impending rising sun sets my mind a flurry?

Oh wise old moth, please stay as long as you need,
My bedside lamp can be your refuge, no need to plead.

You don’t have to tell me why you’re here, or open up to me,
Cause your presence here alone is a pleasure to see.

In twenty-four hours you’ll be looking for new lights to borrow
But please remember, wise moth,

I’ll be awake and lonely again tomorrow.

My metal hand
shakes your plastic skin
and my glass lips
read your copper grin
and my golden eyes
see your silver face
and my diamond mind
cuts through your disgrace.

I remember the day you left,
Tying rocks to your ankles,
You said
“I’m going to find a new world,
Under the ocean.”


I guess you must be enjoying
Yourself
I haven’t seen you since.

Counting down
the minutes
until my shoe laces
get tied together,
so I can fall in
love <3.
I'm getting kind
of bitter,
like a lemon drop
without the sugar rim.
Sidewalks and skyscrapers.
One day
I'm going to
find those
bright,
white,
camera flash
lights.
Yeah,
I'll make
it like a
dream.
Over night.