There is no rehab for being addicted to you
And because I was never a **** to you
Instead of flicking through old pics of you
I decided I would trick you
Into
Never seeing
or talking
to me again

The line between
Success and failure
Blurs

I line the pills up
white and blue:
almost patriotic.
You don't notice
my back against the wall:
a wild wolf call
for fight or flight.
I always pick flight.
Almost patriotic,
what happened to your American bite?
A helicopter hovers
over bleeding covers
and blonde news anchors
say, "its much worse then it is."
Almost patriotic
Almost pathetic
Almost an anesthetic.

Babylon has fallen! Aye; but Babylon endures
Wherever human wisdom shines or human folly lures;
Where lovers lingering walk beside, and happy children play,
Is Babylon! Babylon! for ever and for aye.
The plan is rudely fashioned, the dream is unfulfilled,
Yet all is in the archetype if but a builder willed;
And Babylon is calling us, the microcosm of men,
To range her walls in harmony and lift her spires again;
The sternest walls, the proudest spires, that ever sun shone on,
Halting a space his burning race to gaze on Babylon.


Babylon has fallen! Aye; but Babylon shall stand:
The mantle of her majesty is over sea and land.
Hers is the name of challenge flung, a watchword in the fight
To grapple grim eternities and gain the old delight;
And in the word the dream is hid, and in the dream the deed,
And in the deed the mastery for those who dare to lead.
Surely her day shall come again, surely her breed be born
To urge the hope of humankind and scale the peaks of morn --


To fight as they who fought till death their ****** field upon,
And kept the gate against the Fate frowning on Babylon.

He calls me a brick wall;
which is a useful thing
to be
when dealing with wolves like him.
If I weren't dead,
I would scream
that I am
not a brick wall
nor some stupid woolen lamb
I am not a trapped sardine.
I am not a broken tree limb.
But most of all,
I am not a wolf like him

I want to feel you one last time
Suddenly I’m at the airport in line
Off to a smaller town while you sleep big in my bed
Your toes overhang the edge
The covers are covered in juices
That I said – would clean and I did
And cobes is dead
My head races off to familiar faces
As I try to get home because tasteless
Individuals of different races
Invite me into their homes but not their lives
And I strive for meaning on and island
My eyes land
On an early arrival
Greeted by a great wait where I go out in style
And mourn the death
Of the heaven I left
In a bed while I was still worth while

Sober, or hungover
One or the other
I’ll take a stab at writing
Something that’s too good
Not to know

And I’ve heard “I don’t know”
So
Many times
This past month
I fee like am starting to
You know,
Know

I know you have none of my answers
I know my questions have been spot on
I know my effort has been worthy
I know
As much as you do

You were my darlin’ Queen, the star of the show
Now you are someone elses princess
But you are still my Queen
The Queen of “ I don’t know”

Reconciliation
A leap of faith
Growth and Humility
Laughter and happiness

These are more than things I know
They are my unrewarded actions
Will my attraction
To you ever waver?
Will I ever return the favor?
Are we friends or does that even matter?
I wont ask these questions
Because I know the answer
And its not "no"
Homonym, not vernacular
Yes it is
You know?

I hate that ridiculous yellow sweater of yours,
and your shirts
and your hair.

I hate that you always know better,
I hate your childish behaviour.
I hate when you point out my mistakes.
You are arrogant and overly critical
and frankly, quite annoying.

But you often make me laugh,
and part of me loves the frustration.

Don't think too much of it
when I ask you out
for coffee;
   you will pay and I will smile,
   maybe kiss you goodbye,
But it will not mean
a thing.