When I close my eyes
             I see you;
                          Every time I blink,
Your sweet smile
             Your soft voice;
                          Always makes me think,
What’d it be like with you here
             Always by my side;
                          Though what I crave most is a wink
             From your gleaming eyes,

From a distance
             I see you live life
                          To your greatest reach,
Always yourself
             No one else;
                          Not caring what they preach,
You never fail to find a way
             To frame all of your thoughts;
                          With a pen you break each
             Boundary that they ever taught.

-November 2012

You're the Apple of my eye, the laces of my shoes, the breath of calm after an anxiety attack or heavy cry. You're the hand on my leg telling me I'm safe, the magnet which magnetised the needle in my homemade compass. You're the net of a dreamcatcher, the final **** after a long and exhausting hunt. You're the sensation of being warm and naked after a cold and wet day out in the snow, you're the report card with straight A's. You're there toe beans of a cute cat and the contagious laughter of a newborn too naive to realize that everyone in the room is only laughing because they keep laughing harder, the positive feedback loop exhausted by cheeks too tired to smile and a diaphragm too used to move.

The sensation of being tucked in, but not too tight. The phenomenon of waking up in your bed because you passed out on the couch and your dad carried you in.

You're the dream where you fall in love and everything is perfect and great, but when you wake up you carry over that charm into your day to day life and everything starts to go your way. You're the fortune cookie with a fortune of the numbers 3,4,8,17,20,26,38,48,70 and the phrase saying "your long held-onto grievances will vanish soon, you will find your peace."

You are the learning, growing pupil of the Master of the Way. You are the concept of fairness and rightfulness, of non-ownership and laissez-faire government and home. You are the beacon, cooking a warm meal at the stove, so tuned into her world. You are the day dream, where the ordinary melts and the extraordinary takes over our surroundings and enchants our creativity while boosting and fanning that little flame in our hearts that keeps us going.

You are the first kiss of morning, with morning breath so stagnant from an unexpected ****** release at 4 am and an explosion of positive neurotransmitters, the development of trust in each other's arms. You are the attempt to synchronize heartbeats in a very tight spooning position. You paint the image of our energies moving in complex shapes before entering the other, circling inside and maturing, then entering back into the other. The ouroboros of emotion and trust and love.

You're what I see when I close my eyes, and you're what I want to see when I open them. You're the concept of someone I can truly let be. The independent, growing college girl with her whole life adventure ahead of her.

You're the angel on my shoulder which speaks to me words of reason and progress and helps me ignore this rotten goblin on the other shoulder. You're the voice I hear say "I really like them, honestly," when I see tracers in my vision.

You're a lighthouse in my mind. One safe thought, one place I can escape to for safety. But that's not really you, it's just my concept of you and my memories. But sometimes just that thought is enough to fuel it, because I'll be thinking of you more than I actually see you and I need to find the best way to deal with both.

I don't want to put you on some unreasonable pedestal and I don't think I have. I only truly mean like a third of what I said about the poetic "you are"s, because it would be unreasonably romantic to truly believe most of that. But I believe it in spirit and that's what matters.

You're the voice whispering me to sleep, and the reason I don't always have to wear ear plugs any more. You're the person I imagine running their fingers up my arms and into my hair when I watch ASMR vidoes. You trigger my ASMR and almost no one before you has been so successful in doing so. My body responds to you naturally in burst and quivers of euphoria and satisfaction, the curiousity of how you can pleasure and tingle me and how I can please you.

Rubbing your back and shoulders, popping your back ever so slightly, exploring the surface of your skin in every area. I want to learn and map your topography and dimensions and watch those change gradually over time as you mature into this yogi goddess with such a brain it's astounding.

You inspire me. You're such a hard worker and you're so much further than your circumstances could have put you. You're so strong Zo. Even if you feel like you're breaking sometimes, you're handling the pressure better than I ever could.

I'm grateful for my time with you, but I'm even more grateful for the peace you've helped bring to my tumultuous mind.

I hope you're getting just the most wonderful sleep. Dreaming of forgotten kindoms, songs never heard, places and euphorias never felt or synchronized with. You're a good person.

These nights are what I hope these years would have been,
Laughing away until the early morn when I speak my way into your dreams,
The time we have here is but our only time upon this earth,
And every choice we make will be sealed in the fate that is called time,
For we cannot go backwards or forwards only one direction which is now,
Streaking campus, shoving food in to our mouth only to gag and make our friends laugh,
I know it sounds stupid to most of you,

But these memories are my years and months and days, these memories are the semesters of hard work and hours, of blood and sweat and toil which has driven me insane,

I am finally having the fun I was promised when I was given this gift called life, and you do not dare take that away from me.

You avert your eyes like I wronged,
But I did not,
    Did I?
I’ve waited so long,
You fell, and I caught,
    I am not the bad guy.
You want to push your chances,
Don’t.
    You will not succeed.
I don’t hold your glances,
You just won’t,
    But still I plead,
    And bleed.
    And give,
    And live,
    For You.

Dry is a color,
It is a texture,
A feeling.

Dry is a well of no measure.

Love has never hurt me. As negative and as pessimistic as I can be, I love love. Nothing negative has ever come from being so wholly connected to another person.

Love is indescribable. If it means anything, I still think of Annie every day. Every time I look up at the stars I see her pale skin and her York peppermint patty eyes. I miss her everyday. And I think about what she's doing over in San Diego and if she has enough to eat and if she's safe and if people treat her right. And I want to follow her, but I choose not to because I love her enough to let her go. I know she wouldn't have me now, and I won't force it. But I love her and I want her to be okay. And if she comes to me one day, I will be happy, and if she doesn't, I will still be happy to have loved her and been with her.

I dream with her. About her. And I sing songs about what it was like to be blessed by her. I remember the smell of her hair and how soft her cheeks were when I touched them. I remember holding her in my arms as we looking at children's puzzle books and solving them together. Laughing and smiling so innocently. I'm smiling now, even knowing I almost ended my life days ago. Even knowing I may never see or speak to Annie Wright again. I loved her and that was pure and is pure.

A hippy sits in the corner.
But he’s never smoked ***.

A bandage drapes his chest.
But he’s never been shot.

The bandage is unseen.
And so was the bullet.

The sound was so silent.
He didn’t even know it.

His diagnosis: Betrayal.
His prescription: Ink.

His past: Too near.
His future: Unclear.

His eyes keep staring.
He never blinks.

            -December 28th 2013

To dare not tell the ones I dream of
That I do
Is to revoke a right they have earned.

You stuck in my brain,
The lot of you,
And it is my thoughts you now burn.

I feel guilty for withholding
so few words,
But I can't bring myself to speak.

The effects have lingered,
Their personalities
Every single one of them is unique.

I wake with their faces and
I stare at my phone.
These are just memories
That I can postpone.

One of those morning where I want to cry
Over one condescending comment
And curl up into a ball
And die a little.

I know this sweet scent,
It comes from your timber hair,
This euphoria.

Two wings on her back,
Shredded by a devil,
Healing in safety.

Love is a harsh word,
It causes so much hatred,
Unbalanced feelings.

I once compared knights,
Walking among the armor,
Wings crushed by my fear.

This freedom so great,
Weightless as the air we breathe,
Never a soul like you.

A soul like that boy,
Impossible to amend,
He has no mind still.

A ghost parading,
Traversing with no good thoughts,
Only a black fire.

My levity; you,
A cherub, my shield,
I love you, Angel.

Right here, on this ground,
A war unseen, a retreat,
An open defense.

Unguarded, weakened,
I lay in this angel’s arms,
My only support.                                -Marshall Hiatt, February 2013

A shackle by some other name,
A memory in mine,
A mind not my own would perceive them the same,
But this good memory is hard to find.

“Plainly, no love,” she told me,
Then I will wait till you can see,
I dream of you, waking and sleeping,
I skip food and company for your needing.

Drifting thoughts manifest in the form of inkm
They are the planks of my boat,
With no words holding me, I sink,
With no glue, nail or latch, I cannot float.

The sea, my metaphor for Beau,
Looking down, deep, far down, shows blue,
And in the darkness of depth, I can’t hold you,

My last words, I pray to undo.
                I’m sorry I hurt you.



Use the stars to so North at sea,
Use the moon, the sun, the broken compass.

                                                   Drift.


-September 26th 2013

I think I'll take that one step further,
                                                        ­        one day.
Out of this box,
                           into the world.
Out of my mind,
                           into my thoughts.
I think I want to get better one day,
                                                            ­  maybe.
I like being broken,
                                  it's most of what I know.
I know that touch.

It has a rhythm
.
(period)

I hate that word
It, I hate
Vowels,
None.

Rhythm
Doesn't have itself.
Ameta.
Arhthmia.
Abeneficiary.
Maleficiary, actually.
Sinrhythmia.
Sinrhymia.
Sin
Los reglas.
Measure thing by the size of your thought, not
An inch.
Or centimeter.
I prefer the brits.
But not the hippies
I am one.
we are all one.
One with

A-god.
Not "a" god.
A-god.
As in.
Athea.
Without-thea.

God doesn't wear a suit.
Why should we.
*Cause I look ******* fiiiiiine.

If they ask how you are they really do care.

Lie down your head soft angel,
Close your lightning eyes,
Rest all of your thoughts,
Ignore all of the lies,

Drift into the world of dreams,
Drift into the realm of seeing,
Tis only there I can hold you,
The only time you can feel me.

Seeing you sleeping has worth,
Like watching a kisser’s first,
Or seeing a burning star fly,
So quickly and sharply across the sky.

Love tastes like the ice on a comet.

Void of self
Void of this self, ejected
Repress this
And come across it later.

Don't.

Petroleum papers.

It’s only two eyes and two lips,
    I tell myself.
She’s part of your past, stop worrying,
    I lie.
Look the other way and it won’t hurt,*
    Ouch.

A belief in safety
Can limit potential.
Living in a circle
Can threaten progress.
Listeing to others
Gives a perception of
Maximums, minimums.

Solitaire played alone
Is the best solitaire.
Problems we face alone
Will usually end best.
Solitary people,
Ones who prefer alone,
Make me the happiest.

I have liquid in my lungs.
I know this because I can hear it, feel it.
I smell zucchini and cheese and all I want to do it kiss her
And tell her that the teal shirt she wore when we met
Still shows up in my dreams.

Every single day I ache
To call some place up there,
And order an orchid for your door.

I am reminded in my limp and my shrug
That I love you.
I am reminded in the fact that I would be willing to suffer nightmares every single night of my life
If only you slept next to me.

You smell like the woman I want to marry,
And your strong shoulders feel like the ones I want to see every morning
When you sit up on the bed.

I'm willing to go the distance.

I can compare it to staring through invisible glass,
At something indescribable, a star, a kiss, a birth,
It’s hard to measure,
but I think it’s safe to say you don’t have to.
A walk down tranquility lane, a warm sun high,
It smells like peaches, with a slight breeze.
The grass does not stain your clothes, it is soft,
It is kind.

-May 31st 2013

Normalcy is a noun.
A word we want.
Something special.
Something certain.
A preview, a peek at the past.


Normalcy is
         Narcissism.

"I don't want to be forgotten."
"I don't want to forget you."

*It's too bad things change.

Madness.
Belligerent.
Furious.
Enraged.
Dangerous.

I am angry.
Do not make me angry if you value our friendship.
Do not dangle the treads I cherish more deeply than your soul above a flame.
If they break, so will you. I will see to it.

Do not threaten my safety.

I tried to write last night about my mother,
And all the hurt she gave me.
But as I wrote and as I rhymed,
I got lost
In
My
Thoughts.

I am hurt and I am harmed and I am heavy from said pain.
It's been 9 years and it still hurts.

I want to forgive her for selling out my love,
I really ******* do,
But I CANT.
I CANT FORGIVE HER FOR BEING SUBHUMAN,
SELFISH,
SHALLOW.

You threw away your children,
Your family.

I just don't understand.

If I see the bottom, I see the top.
I speak loudest when I'm silent.
I sleep best when I'm awake.
I'm only flying when  I'm on the ground.

I only get this way when there's a glimmer of hope.
I want a friend.

Broken.
Shattered.
Pieces that fall.

Scars.
Sadness.
She makes him enthralled.

Punishment.
Torture.
She limits herself.

Please.
Listen.
Don't do this to yourself.

Believe.
In love.
Love oneself,
          Always.

         Happiness.
         Will stay.

But none of them can be heard.

I cut my hair because I was done being sad.
All that weight on my head and shoulders
All that hassle of preserving an illusion
All those memories of her.
I cut it off.

But here I am,
Sad today.

So now what do I cut.

I've held so many women,
More than I can count.
But if I had to count.
I would say four.
And then I would say one.
My brain would say four.
My heart would say one.
I've only held one in my heart.

And she hates me.

My arms are too weak to hold up this shield,
So they can see my face.

And I look horrible.

It’s the way the sun shines and the water falls,
It’s how the wind blows and birds chirp,
It’s the way the moon rises and sets,
It’s how you ignite my flame with your blue eyes,
It’s the way flowers bloom for you,
It’s how the world seems to lighten your step,
It’s the way air tastes sweeter when I’m with you,
It’s how the heat I feel in your presence is inside,
It’s the way I always want to say those words,
The deadly three,
To let you see,
Understand,
And take my hand.

-June 10th 2013

Where the image of tearing my veins to shreds plays over and over.
This broken record of ****** drowning.

The apricot tree,
So solemn in its art of creation,
Yielding fruit by square yard,
And flower blossom come spring
Holding no pleasure in its perception.

If I am the apricot tree in the fields at dawn,
You are the ladder,
The picker,
The cook,
The sugar and pan
And the jar of apricot jam,

Preserved in its perfection
For hungry mouth and seeking hands
To endulge in, come harvest.
You are the countertop in the kitchen
And the residue of spills upon it,
Caused so carefree by fingers excited
To savor God's gift
Of orange fruit
And good will.

You are the warm home
Occupied by voices and laughter
And children so eager for the day
Their screams of joy echo each room.

You are the eyes onlooking
From inside the car,
Gazing out a moving window
At the bountiful apricot blossoms,
You are the artist and beholder,
The eyes of beauty
Which turn the tree's mundane
And ordinary life
Into poetry and light of human love.
The botanist, the lover of fruit and flesh,
Picking perfect apricots,
Plucking them not only at pure ripe
But all season,
For the sake of texture and sweet.

For the tree,
Bearing fruit and blossom
Has transcended from routine
To holiday.

Such a pleasure,
Being plucked and picked,
Pleased and appreciated in true apricot
Passion.

The tree loves the lover,
And the lover loves the tree.

I see you.
I gasp.

Perfection comes in the form of steel blue eyes and a Mona Lisa smile.
Merely the sight of you wipes my mind.
I know your voice, inside and out.
I know your lips, your taste, your laugh, how you tilt your head.

But your heart confuses me.
Sometimes it hurts me, sometimes I hurt it.
But it gave me the most joy. More than I could imagine.
It patched and healed the holes in my chest.
Gave me a new place to rest.


I beg,
Don’t go away forever.
You are my perfection.

She taught me that I miss having a mother.
She taught me I could cry.
She taught me new ways of kissing.
She taught me who I really love.
She taught me how to sever mutilated limbs.
She taught me that everybody can be selfish.
She taught me that laughing only eases the pain for a day.
She taught me that scars never go away,
*They just get old.

Winter is a time for love, warmth, and passion.
Spirits flourish with strength, endurance, and desire.
They dash into flurries blindly, grabbing anything that holds.
Many souls grab mimics; branches that break. Lost in the storm again.
But those who can reach further and harder, hold on forever.

I can still recall the scent of my three loves.

Every night, sleeping is torture for my restless, substandard emotions.

I don’t want to keep living a life like this.

I can’t stand being away from you for so long.

Come to me and live with me, love me so.

I need comfort. Comfort from your soft lips and voice.

Concerts and friends and parties, none of it satisfies me.

Escape into my fantasy worlds forever with a bullet’s help.

But I couldn’t leave you behind to cry over me.

Marshall left this building months ago. Call me his corpse.

Revive me. Cry for me. Crave me. Lie for me.

Instead of dragging knives across my skin
expressing self hatred or anguish,
I take small breaths of cigarettes.
It's liberating.
The minutes I can choose to take from my life.

I want to die young.

Nature learns and teaches,
But there are natural laws,
They govern all who slither,
Shamble, glide and walk.

During development,
These laws may bend, break,
May teeter and sway,
But the law is nature's make.

One will always return
To the rules we are bound,
The encompassing, unwavering,
Even the profound,
Nature without personal sin.
Nature within.

Black shows only best on clean white like snow,
Tis why you stand out so well in the dark,
Because you are the light I used to know,
My past can be compared to a red mark,
But our future is that of a serpent,
It will weave in, it will weave out, constant,
It bites, slithers, hisses, so divergent,
But from afar it seems so triumphant,
Said plain, what our love truly is; a win,
Success over the dark, over the hate,
The overpowering of good to sin,
When I see your blue eyes, I know it’s fate,
Light shows only best on darkest nights,
On darkest nights you take away my frights.

Venus, you turn me blue-
Butterfly, Neptune, lunar tunes.
Space music.
Gaia, giver of gourd and ground, fertile earth
Please ground me- I'm flying by butterflies
And birds and bees in my stomach-
Chest full of it.

Pounding
DUM DUM DUM
I lose weight and my legs give out
No nicotine high, high on you
This lilac bush- butchered for her flowers.
I'm high on nicotine tea.

Signs say,
"No Smoking,"
I laugh like it's joking
But take trespassing seriously.
I don't want a free pass to jail- my record's clean.
They're mean in jail- you're not mean,
I'd rather you be with me
We can hide from hail under trees
And look at stars- how far they are.
Making my hard heart POUND in this yard.

Green grass.
I'd let all color be gray for you if you choose,
And decorate with spray paint if that's what you say.
I'd paint the world or desaturate.
It's easy to play this game and how badly I want to play-
Pray to play.

Venus turn my Neptune from blue to gold
The goal of this game.
I'm saturated by soul.

They call me faithless,
Little do they know how true that is.

Being without God is one thing, and I am that thing.
Being without Faith is another, I am also this.

But it seems like Faith may be with me, for I am trembling,
And no Gods ever help me.

Limericks are not my triumph,
Most of mine classify not high up,
But once in a while I get quite lucky,
And one of them isn't so fucky.
But this one will burn in fi'ya.

The dust of an afternoon nap crusts my eye,
It sprinkles down on my life and drags,
Slow and grudging, my legs can barely move,
To sink into coma, catatonic as a mountain,
Would be my dream come true, watching.
Waiting.


-March 27th 2013

I dream of *** with pale girls,

It's honest and it's true,
Some nights I lay awake and only think of you,
My dreams don't come when I'm asleep,
They often come at day,
Sometimes they come while I learn,
Sometimes when I should pray,

I dream of white, soft flesh,
Her black hair's contrast soothing,
I think of how you may not approve,
If I did all the moving,

I don't know how to end these mirrors,
And they don't come all too often,
But I know that if I look too long,
My apathy won't soften.

He never fought the dragon,
He never sailed the sea,
Or walked the two hundred mile,
    Like he said he would.
We never spent a lifetime,
We never kissed very long,
We never shared a bed,
    Like he said we would.
I never got the jewelry he bought,
I never kissed his neck,
I never went with the time,
    Like he hoped I would.

And now he’s typing this.
Weeping.

I dreamt about you again
Your hair, your skin, your safety.

We talked and blocked it all out.
It was nice.

My Fox.

Then rip it the rest of the way. Cause **** that paper.

I want to SCREAM!
I want to never be seen...

But I saw you,
And YOU SAW ME!

I keep feeling like you used me,
You lied to me and your love,
And one truth was more than the other,

Take your apologies,
                   They are the weight of paper
                                                                                                            *To me.