heart will pump slowfast
morning light and his breath still
breathing; lingering

we Need to talk

-why is this something saved for later? a floaty, indefinite time in the future: words that fester get no easier to say

we Need to take a break

-cracking open the distance between us like two halves of an egg shell only renders us broken and ready to run

we Need to be in love

-what if our ideas of love don't match?

the only thing worse than needing is
                                                                      greeding

the city we are obligated to call home:

'it's pulsing, like a heartbeat'
really
i          
just
want
to
feel
                            yours. a steady bassline to keep track of,
tap my foot to in this unsteady place called love.

'that? that's just gases rising and light being hit in the right way'

from where your arms are cold around my waist, it seizes my attention that the

                            moon is nowhere to be found.

meaningful in its meaningless:
windows rolled down
nightair canopied outstretched
fingers
memorized streets flushed with
the transience of our
itching notions

we spoke of the seemingly surreal future
getting out of this red, square place
and slipping into a big city blissfully
unnoticed

words became arbitrary
as we pulled into the driveway
kicked back our seats
cried defiantly
            the pending beauty
            the potential tragedy
            the growth spurt still
quivering in  muscle spasms


Clarity:
the world holds more for us

scrape me down
like ugly wallpaper in an outdated house
leave nothing but gray framework
until beginnings are easy.

make me stop
dragging my heart through a cactusfield of memories
the ****** have got this body numb
apathetic to the tearing of skin.

wake me up
from sweaty black rabbithole sleep
tumbling&trying; to grip anything real
hand hits smoke.

that call that never came
made me lose my appetite
                                                      for
                                                      spaghetti
                                                      and
                                                      for
                                                      love.

kicking you only means i'll run into you again, sometime.somewhere near cement
                                                                         bottom.