Maybe the words I write will somehow float off the page, they'll drift and drift through the sky until they reach your eyes and you'll see I was right here the whole time

Maybe the notes I play will echo endlessly throughout the night, they'll ring across the clouds and the stars and they'll enter your mind

Maybe the words I whisper to myself when I'm alone will find their way to your lips and maybe, just maybe, you'll say
*you're mine

Why do you keep on flirting with darkness, slandering the light with something that could never light your way?

just another poem about love

and velvety kisses
like voracious volcanos
and weekends in Venice
and Sweden
ven amor

Should have
put a bullet in the brain
Should have
doused it with kerosene
and lit a match
Should have
tied a cinderblock
to the worthless wretch
and chucked it in the lake
But the most rotten things
resurface
and eat the sweetness
that you spent
two years
building
Should have left
well enough alone
instead of
leaving the coffin door
wide open
for the wickedness
to crawl back out

I thought I had something to write,
but instead I'm buzzing strangely
as if I'm a conduit for the lost currents in the air,
   The static electricity.
  
I yearn to untangle.

My insides are a coil of jumper cables
and perhaps I'll take up yoga.

And then I will write a story that weighs more than the factory which made the pen,
And it will be such that the whole world will read it
and weep.
And the whole world will be that one guy who rows the gondola boat in city park
because I will have left it
by the dock.
And all the people will return again and again
To purchase another ride,
To sit in his boat and glide on the water
and hear him tell the story,


And their tears will fill the lake.

me
there are things
i should burn for
but i won't
there are things
i should burn
but i don't
burn for you
i still burn for you
when i drink i still drink
but only in fiction
i try my best
to avoid looking at
pianists guitarists and singers they don't upset me
but i guess their art is too honest
for who i am
as it should be
i will never
understood anything done
for me out of love
me i
shouldn't be alive
last november i kicked
my friend in the face while
he tried to save my life
i'd forgotten about it and so
when he visited me
in hospital the next day
i asked about the bruise
above his eye
he looked at me real
funny and told
me he ran into a tree