I approach most desires
like a competition; can I
**** better than him;
can I be famous at twenty-
-three since he was famous at
twenty-four -- I must be able
to sink better than him.

God, it is exhausting. I
feel like I'm dancing with
a machine; a phantom that
I can never catch, for it runs
on my blood; my insecurities;
my passion -- and, boy, oh boy,
can I attest to having plenty of
  that stuff, ladies and germs.

I think, truly, that I am
encompassing the American Dream
I think is utterly flawed; that I think
is futile in nature; that I am sure of
is the closest thing to Hell, in this
Godless, spiritually motherless
dark shoebox of sudden collisions;
this space of useful and useless
results, splayed onto and into
our hearts, asking for reverence.

There is nothing  I want more
than to be sure that my importance
is not illusory. I am not sure if
I am real.

A silence with you
Is not
a silence

But a moment rich
with peace

Scribble the feeling underneath my skin
The words don't pour out of me like
Rain I live in this constipated emptiness
Swallowed my voice which knows not
Which route to take led by feeling-less
Senselessness  
Scribble them down and pain me
Into feeling like I exist
Wake me up
I have been asleep
Lost in the nightmare of
Hurtful confusion

From morning to dawn
Whipping mixing baking smelling
Handfuls of what I can't resist
To give
My love for you
Only to see you
Munch it away
The cutest sight
Why
Feeding you feels
So satisfying?

i have found what you are like
the rain,

            (Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of green thrilling light
                                  with thinned

newfragile yellows

                      lurch and.press

—in the woods
                      which
                              stutter
                                        and

                                              sing
And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
                  your kiss

Overstepping the limit
The line once drawn by
The enmeshment of all familiar faces
Conditionally loving their reflection
In my face
The pain of falling
Of being alone in the dark is so
Overwhelmingly tangible
But ones who dare
Ones who soar high
And fiercely live
Fall into themselves
Willingly
Off the cliff of familiar
And into the unknown
But deeply felt
Light
Of creative release