Rejection stings me like a bee, I'm frightened.
My heart has lost it's wings
condemned to return to its cave of shards.
My weapon has been buried in the leaves that you hid in the forest
And I'm struggling to find a color that matches my insight.
Or have I lost not only what is yours, but what is mine?

Reviving the self that is so desperate to hide
that it does nothing but hide in this pathways struggles.
I'm lost in your ruffles.

Friendship has bounds and the binds are what you're afraid to break.
I'm not alone
if this is a mistake.
All I want is to give in to what helps me create.
You call it lust while I experience it as fate.

I say I want someone to hold me
yet there's something underneath my wanting that you translate.
You show me the fear so clearly that even my communication dissipates.
I can't see what's ahead of me, simply what surrounds me,
and even though half of what I see displeases me, there's no way I can see it releasing me.

I must release myself from this madness, a yielding I'm timid to accept.

You've entered my insight and helped me to extend my mind.

How much pain
Can one heart take
Burning battle scars

Every time
I don't hear your voice
I'm lost

How could I fall so far
Always afraid to kiss you
Now there's no you

Aimless and alone
Hell in my heart, an upheaval
Power of my being, without appeal

Granting you freedom
How could you still steal
The whole of me

Shadow of me, walking
Acknowledging the best of me
Stored deep inside of you

Everything else is hopeless
As no distance or time
Has murdered my love for you

Veins chocking, turning blue
As my heart walks about within you
Leaving me here dying, its true

Aimless and alone
Hell in my heart, an upheaval
Power of my being, without appeal

need sleep, will
love?

A head
A giant boney mass
Many mouths and eyes
           thoroughly babbling,
           whatever,
           etc.
Snapping and blinking
Mouths Melded together on this ultra cranium
Yapping on and on
On and on and on
Yellowed teeth and bedazzled grills
Botnet mods and crop tools

The most dastardly of all -
An infinite production of fuzzy,
Buzzing noise blobs.
And Attempts to add me
To its mass connection-collection head
Leave me offended.

"What's on your mind?"

Go away.
You ******* freakazoid.

some say we should keep personal remorse from the
poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you have
my
paintings too, my best ones; its stifling:
are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them?
why didn't you take my money? they usually do
from the sleeping drunken pants sick in the corner.
next time take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems:
I'm not Shakespeare
but sometime simply
there won't be any more, abstract or otherwise;
there'll always be mony and ****** and drunkards
down to the last bomb,
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.

We sat behind the book stacks
and talked about our lives,
to an audience of novels.
You made funny noises
and talked about Australia.
I emptied my thoughts to the shelves
and draped my emotions over the light fixtures.
You were awkward,
you bit my lip when I kissed you.
I loved it.
I want you to feel my admiration.
Open your doors
and let me inside.
Lay with me behind the stacks
and value our existence.
Libraries carry many stories.

They always come here, two in two
They're always dishonest and never true
When the sudden logic has come to you
Cut the cord, that's what you're supposed to do
Haven't you got a clue
If it's anyone I'm in love with, it's you.
You're not here anymore, talking to me has become a chore
I've become a wreck and I'm now a bore
But it's you who I will always adore
You're not here anymore and that's okay
I never loved you anyway
Because I've finally grasped onto some of the things you say
That one faithful night that evolved into the day