seconds
     ticking
          tick-tick
    flip-flop
         ti-
             tick-
                  ticking.
poking     at      me,
c o a x i n g me
        to move:
stand up, get out, be, hear, see, do,
everything's right in front of you!

those two
        idle hands
                
should be crafting a cat's cradle of cathartic creation…

but easy comfort
         in apathetic

                                                               ­ nothing,
in slowly
         being e n v e l o p e d
cuddled back into, back into, back into my bed of
                                                                ­                                        blank…
slate, blank mind, blank hands.
blankets covering a blank stare at a blank ceiling.
smothering the murmurs
of the matador
in
     my
          chest,
I  s  l  i  d  e  into a hazy half-dream.
the light slips past,
going home with the sun
and listening to
lunar lullabies,
I
         sigh & hum
              slinking
                            into yawns
excusing myself for d r a g g i n g
        tiredness
                     pulling on   my   strings.

sinking,
       sinking
                   into sulking.
staying
        to sit
                 in sadness,
                                            sinking.
tic­king
       ticking
                   t i c k i n g
TOCK

the blocking of
      my eyes,
             ears,
                 hands,
                      feet,
                          heart
stymied by my own will.
and it will
continue
      for
             e t e r n i t i e s
of absolutely
                   arbitrary
                               nothing.

expect for cookies.
I will pledge my honor to soak up all sweetness so that my bones might
      rot
          faster,
             sinking,
                 weighting,
                       wearing,
                          tearing,
                                        s
                                           i
                                              n
                                                 k
                                                    i
          ­                                            n
                                                         g
                                                              .­

spiraling out faster,
                                              sinking
into another
                                               sinkhole
black void of destruction
                                              *******
the color
the dimension
of
me
into the next bed
                                             dungeon
for sleep,
dreaming of
                                             sinking:
plummeting past plumes of poisoned plum trees
plop perched atop an immobile glass-sealed sea
yet,

I
        sink
                     in –
                                            apathy.

I was in the mood for salt,
though I knew you were delicious
I became deaf to your music
though I was once tuned to your frequencies
my nose was clogged like a sickness
which made me immune to your scent
my senses became senseless
and thus I traveled
Looking to wake them up again

The grave stones in the
cemetery lean on each other
for emotional support
---
The rainbow roads drip
down sewers into the
water they love so much,
making ***** yellow, purple,
blue reflect back and
menace the legacy
---
Brain baby bobbling
around in the head cavity, still
growing and drifting through
stages of depravity and
different shades of blue.
Just now getting to know your
land legs, huh?
You languished so long on
sea beds wondering
when your time is come.
But, here!
You have entered the magic kingdom
of knowing and yet you refuse to know.
Keep back! Your nuclear glow radiates
some sort of disaster brewing and
I believe you conjure up spells
in your sleep to be unquestionably you
without consequence
---
We're all bustling by on methane clouds.
They're pumping our egos sky high,
our marionette mouths brainlessly chanting
"My integrity cannot be bought,"
as worthless precious stones are funneled
through cracks in our wooden bones.
People say I have an old soul, but
I think I'm just trying to pay attention and
put together a person sized puzzle
made of a picture of a mirror
pointed at the universe.
I wonder what I would dream about
if one ever stuck to the roof of my mouth.
The girl who never says please but
always thanks you when she leaves,
at your service!
I stumble through another
eyebrow taboo and I
place the catalyst in a box labelled
"Save it for later."
Walk by a pile of
bruised up bones
clawing their eyes out,
just to be a concept;
unknown to them are their miracles.
I'm pretty sure life is satirical

I interpreted the silence

as awaiting, anticipation

I stretched to your vessel

swimming on my expanse

of flowing tears and tongue

in the hopes your boat

would capsize

and sink into me

but you did not fall

in my direction

my compass was wrong

and now I am lost

in my own desperate sea

would you please drop me a line
send out a space in time where,
we are intertwined in serpentine spinning.

my mind has been imagining
the harmonics of our laughter
and how our limbs would fit together
resting weary muscles against each other.

trying to decipher your eyes
foreign tongue, flitting broken morse code
across thick air, heavy unspoken load.

doubt wields a sharp sword
that splits my desire - reaching & running
backwards, retracting hands that yearn
for things they know will burn -
searing truth into naive heartstrings,
that tethered themselves to dark misgivings.

I am wrong to call you home

home on wheels
wheels I can't stop

I was wrong to call her home
her home was lost and I was lost with it

"Don't paint your body"
"Only paper for coloring"
I am not wrong, I am not
I am not wrong, I am not

I will let my hands
catch all the tears
which wash the blood
from my stained body
and use those tears
to paint a new body
a new vessel
which I will call
home

I never realized it would come down to this

Walking on eggshells like broken bottles
Praying my hand won’t clutch down on the throttle
Cause between the other side and I is only a mile
And all my second chances lie in the corner stacked in a pile

Often enough, I visit these ghosts and ask if I can stay awhile
And despite the fact that their intentions are as transparent as their torsos,
Sometimes I can’t see through their smile

When ‘scared shitless’ is an understatement
And the best part of this day was just surviving this day
Hope seems to find its way out when you can’t
But always leaves a note explaining why it couldn’t stay

So I’ll continue to let myself hate

You told me I could be so much better
And wouldn’t have to wait until night to embark
Well some shadows are darker than others
And you aren’t the one with eyes that glow in the dark

Because hiding my fangs is the closest thing to love I’ve ever met
And when you tell me you love me,
Regrets fire through my head like shotgun blasts carrying a threat
They say, “You don’t love me, you just don’t hate me yet”

And I don't want you to hate me

So yeah I still sleep with one eye open
But I’m also awake with one eye shut
And I’m living with one foot in the grave
But dying with one hand digging it’s way up

I’d be happy to die a martyr
Anything not to die alone
And I’d be happy to walk a little bit farther
If I knew I was almost home

But instead my heart keeps beating on in spite of itself like a broken wind-up doll waiting for the timer to run out
And finally catch a good night’s sleep

But a good night’s sleep
Is harder to find when you’re six feet deep
Just praying to god the bell actually rings
And someone above somewhere is actually listening

But they aren’t
At least I don’t believe they are

So I’ll hold my breath and hope
Hope god didn’t give the noose the strength to hold its iron grip around my throat
And wait for the air to find its way back into my lungs
In the meantime, studying the way the rope is strung

And I’m afraid to change
But I think I’m more afraid of staying the same

So I’ll move to the edge and etch a sketch
To remind myself it’s less about how far you can reach
And more about how far you’re willing to stretch.