Im lonely
But
The wind has come to comfort me
Perhaps not in
"reality"
Or whatever you people to tell me to snap back to
But i'm glad I don't feel alone.

I can watch the pretty girls' funny shows on Netflix all night
Who's words weren't written with them in mind
Or any mind for that matter
Or who's shows aren't even "theirs"

Hopefully my puffs of bright beaming teeth breath
Fuel these winds onward
To someone else with worse problems
Or better
So be it

I cannot wait
I really can't
I
Can't
Wait

If I ever get married
If God has that in my stars

God, will it be great

There's no distance I wouldn't go for them

Pain now is temporary
And those eyes will always hold a glint for me
I will--am chasing that glint
Until I belong to them,
And they want to belong to me

Until that silver shines through me
Amplifying
My eyes, my nose, my mouth,
Everything.

Until that light reflects back
Brighter to them
Hopefully
Than my open, vulnerable, enamored,
Eyes received them
Though I know I'll never believe it if they say so

Look!
There

I can see it now,
Can you?
The flash from their eye?
As quick as their breeze walking past,
But twice as warming
Now their smile!
A smile
I would bear the rest of my life
alone
If only at my final conscious sight
I would see it
Once
In person

**** me sidewase-- sidewise apparently,
i can't get a word in between these red dots and
Red snakes biting at my letters's ankles
At least when I'm pen ning I have the option to ignore that im an *******

You **** gobbling weak kneed slack jawed fool

Alright Alright let's take it easy I'm simply trying to help
No one would ever doubt your genius
But your spelling can certainly take a little
Critazisms?
Is that how you
Spelt?

Dont patronize me **** it

The back of my eyes feel wet,
And the hot-cocoa after sledding,
Warmth in my chest wont go away.
My head feels magnetized to my stomach,
With my nose pulling my head downward.

My hair irritates my skull,
As the clammy underside of my skin,
Grips who I am,
My very essence,
In a death vice

My hand writes when it is sleepy,
Though my pin prickled pal pays me no tithe,
The static sound feel of my arm,
Removes itself from me,
Granting formerly unprecedented agency,
Between my brain and my limb,
With me left the unhappy spectator

Your stream of thought pleases naught,
And swirls your mouth in toilet style,
It spouts your bile through your smile,
Where we all wish it would not

Meticulously making milestones,
Don’t chase me,
Dripping dropping side roads of thoughts,
My train is racing,
Until it's up ended by life,
Hum’or’catastrophe
The beat and time I’ve worked for entirely,
Dies