fillme
fill my
fill my hands
fill my hands, light.

i'll climb You.

i'll reach each
finger over
each finger over.

i'll climb you up
(if even tinly i'll shall
by minute courage expand
into quickly dying night
the frailness of my body
and i'll clamor
i'll tip
sinuously

up

into thy strayingest brightness
my cup
and it will run over with you

it will burn
and, by a thousand strokes of brilliance,
it shall teeter briefly invincible

on awkward skinny youth
it shall stumble deeply radiant folding

each star folding
manifold upon
manifold upon
manifold upon
folding each star

into the hottest crimp:
a kiss foibl'd                         )

clumsily boyness hands
imparting with love most earnest

that spangle will

and climbing fingers
over each
into

that hurt
will sharply round
rib after rib

till reaches
(in burning Cupid's fiercest glow)

my destroying weakness
with the strength of your inimitable lips

thoughts of non-existing
anymore doesn't terrify me

it's the fact that I
never really existed to
you in the first place
*c.r

i'm not suicidal, but
         if a truck was about to hit me
         i wouldn't scream
i don't have a death wish, but
         if i was stuck underwater
         i wouldn't struggle
i don't want to die, but
         if someone had a gun barrel at my head
         i wouldn't beg to live
                          i'd smile

words and numbers
                                                                      clash and
                                                           tumble
                   unsure of where
they're wanting to go
                              probably no where
                                              just wanting to get out
                       of here
                              - this brain
                                                               i don't want to be here
     i feel sorry for the letters
                                      numbers
                                      words
                                      poems

              stuck in this crazy place
  it's a maze
           i hope they find the exit
                              without too much harm

all of the stone cold loving of a fossil
a dead fish, a pig in the summer sun
whose only concern is panting out the heat
i am about as romantic as 2 day old bologna
i can express my love for you almost as well
as napoleon can tell us today that he was not in fact, short

that is to say, not at all
mute in more ways that one

i'll never say what i really feel
just can't
the words are transparent, escaping my grasp
the feelings a mystery that even the mystery machine
could not find

i'm sorry that there's no clarity.
so i shall continue walking this path
alone forever.

and it is fine.
the first step is acceptance
i'm already half way therem