Dear and Broken Brunette Black Box
You, sole survivor
Of discovered crash today,
and all alone I
witness you
struggle out the twisted plane.

Such cruel caught pain,
Jet fuels' hot, regretful flame,
from cold neglect
and bitter shame.
You will get out-
You will reclaim.

Inwardly I weep upon
mere sight of your endeavor.
I'll carry you
and your possessions,
'til you can walk
or happily forever.

Do I jump right in,
or just slowly submerge,
and resist the urge
to quickly drown me?

Do I hold your hand
as I wade right in,
or force your head down
under my chin?

Or should I push you in
and go on alone...?

I feel optimistic
I feel saddened
I feel just fine
I feel rabid

I feel like losing every form of hope
I feel my grip slip on the rope
I feel, I feel, I feel
I- nevermind..

Like a corpsman from a failure,
Like a shell-shocked, ship-wrecked sailor,
Like a wounded, desert dog, or maybe
Like a shaken baby,

I crawl away from you.

I taste delicious irony
in all the things they say will **** me;
they tend to be the only things
that keep me breathing.

The light only shines though
after all the drink
and drugs I do
fully set in,
and I feel I can last again.

Amphetamine and LSD
Are the only cure for
what you've done to me.

Thanks to you
and all the opening up I do.
Thanks to me
and my trust for those around me.

I seen how you look at me;
Smile and dirt in mind.
I been kinda lonely also-
but we can still take our time.

I bet it's hard to swallow
when put down real deep,
But around that sound we follow,
until we all fall asleep..
  
Sit next to me-
and **** our phones,
and I'll catch every
glance you throw..

And cover your lover
in devotion's potion,
and smother each other
in music and wonder.

When we lie down
we disappear-
from this world and
into another.

I'm real keen on misery.
My soul's in disrepair.
I found it odd to ask God, (but)
No one was there to care..

So I'm tired of waiting
with my mind so obsessed-
It's only desire I've got left;
To get you undressed.

So, lay next to me;
You warm and save me.
******* girl,
You drive me crazy.

You cover me, Lovely;
Your soft, smooth skin..
When trouble comes nightly.
You let me come in.

I won't ask you why.
'cause of what I might find.
But whenever you go,
I feel myself dying.

An instance of
certainty in wrath, or hate
for that matter, is to live
a lifetime perpetually
in hindsight's
headlights.

You feel this upon
lonely reminiscent sessions;
You shiver, cringe,
then force-flood your mind
with nonsense to forget.
That is regret.

A charge
in between
our skin
like wire
runs deep,
perspire,
make seem
we're fire.

The group
like lice
that form
my eyes
absorb
the light.
Transform,
make right.

    We burn
    our houses down
    then turn
    our eyes to town-

    Then run off
    into the woods
    to blend in.
    I know we could.

The kind
of hate
I found
too late
has gone,
escaped.
Evap
orated.

A careful wreak
I walked; I am.
Burning like a wild
candle in the white sand;
To go cold and dark
when tide is high,
though wet, to relight
when it hides, back
behind stormy horizons.

Slow approaches
coming dawn.
Pressure's on.
There happens my
unresisting retreat, my
backward treading feet;
a reluctance of will. Defeat,
to cut at my soles, when I walk in
tide pools who flow with regret
and shame, where urchins and coral of
remorse still remain
on times beachheads who reach back out
with the frigid waves;
recede and surrender
to a lunar tug on their sleeves
and follow
into tomorrow;
Something I wish no longer to see.

Weak, latent, knowing;
my spirit reached out

Bookshelf. Tiny bookshelf-
held the key to getting out.