Have you ever felt five minutes

s t  r   e    t     c      h       e        d

into eternity?

Your mind an endless stream of worries and doubts and darkness
walls closing in, claustrophobia hyperventilation
panic panic panic attack

Take me somewhere new right now
somewhere where I can bask in my own self-deception
thinking I can run away from the oncoming moment
the oncoming train, headlights in the tunnel charging straight towards me

nowhere to hide.

The phantom inside always following
like trying to play tricks on your own reflection...

The pregnancy tests
Are right next to the condoms
Either way, you're *******.

reminds me of my grandpa
I never decided if it was bitter or sweet but all the same
I sneak sips from the bottle in the fridge

his house in the mountains
his long driveway and boulders to climb on
every day an adventure
when you're 7

chasing deer and running in sprinklers

pistachio shells under the couches
a grand piano

still life fruit paintings
so simple, the world then.

I watched him die
of cancer
when I was old enough to understand

that that was only
his body.

I am blatantly blunt
And maybe I say too much too soon
Foot in my mouth my tongue is impulsive
Word salad word salad wrong worded wording words
Nothing comes out right in the way that I want them to be more than just
Syllables pouring out to fill the space between us
But you don't seem to mind how often I stumble over myself
I feel stupid with my recklessness, my loving with abandon
But you don't wince or blink or run and hide
I used to be so cautious, cautious
Looking both ways before I cross the street
Now like a curious cat confident I'll make it, I just dart
You make me not care even though I should I should I really ******* should
It makes me feel alive but still on the inside oh the inside
I'm just a scared little kitten, scared of my own claws.

i have counted them all

and most of them are reasons why i should never have been with you.

Someone once told me

That hate is love and love is hate

He was a criminal and a drug addict

But I like how nonsense seems to make sense to me.

she's holding her pen like she does her tongue

drawn back,

poised for the pleasure of letting

the ink drip to the ground

and she bathes in its dark puddles

(where abstract meets sense,

where mind and soul meet the body that plummets to solid earth)



she opens like a well-read book

but buries secrets in gold between tired lines

charmed treasure

(x marks the spot)



she's staring at walls

that are oh so elegantly covered

with quotes

with buildings

with trees, with skies

with flowers and beaches

with faces she will never see again.

(but she knows how lucky she is to have seen them atleast that once,

atleast that one last time)



she leads the way

up trodden paths

to moon rocks and city lights

(and wonders how one can possibly feel more alive,

can enhance their only existence)



she's dreaming, as always

a glaze in her eyes

hoping, waiting, contemplating

feels bare,

feels that everyone can see the trip in her head

(she's naked, but laughing

because they see her in clothes.)