Stuck in a place, where I really have no say.
Trapped between close space, no way to escape.
So far away, and no one to save
Its so dark, I cant get away..

Even if I could, how would I explain
Tell a story like it never happened
Talking in third person because im so far away.

Faded all day to forget my pain
Double cup my cup to make it all go away
Light one up to fly away and remain sain
The higher i get, the more I forget
Left with out no recollection of any of this
Wake up to a scream, it was all a vivid dream.

A dream to remember like they say "dreams do come true" how can I escape something so true...

A lion on my left
a tiger to my right
they're sweet
house cats in all actuality
wouldn't harm a fly

until the titles come
and stereotypes must be
perpetuated

so they
with their personalities stripped
keep their vicious reputations
alive
**** for their names
the title that begs them to

"soldier."

don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

Games,

I always told you I were good at them,
and you laughed and said you could play them better.

Now it's cold and I need my sweater,
your love is gone and my cheeks are wetter.

But it's suppose to get better.
I shouldn't feel so dead.
The only emotion I've felt at this point,
is when we laid in bed.

Games,

I guess you were right..
Because you're not the one up at night,
Replaying thoughts and causing fights
Playing games involving knives
I'll mark my skin, yeah that's right
I'll write your name, end my life
Games.

A professor explained to me once
how there is a limited number
of possible designs for making
an arrow point function as intended.

You can't stick a round rock on a stick
and expect it to penetrate like a dart.

It has to be sharp and hard, yet light
to fly like a feather straight and true
to the heart. I said, you mean like love?

She said, yeah, like love, kinda like love.