here I
lie on my back
this ceiling (white)
is my sky tonight
alone
my legs whisper
what I do not need to hear
from my toes to to my thighs
i try
to peel you away
from staying too late
inside of my brain
cause I need sleep honey
I need a lot of things
mostly string
so i can tie my bells to you
that way i'll know when you're close
because lately
you show up out of no where
&oh; how you l i n g e r
you'd think
somehow
I'd had you before
the way that I want you right now
but that doesn't matter
i'm just a scatter at night time
I'm wasting time on paper
and usually I can figure out what to do
but not like this
cause she has what I want
what I silently love
my useless truth
darling
i'm blue
because I have your attention
but she;
she has you

I didn't understand the guy who
said that we as observers can alter reality,
maybe it's just that I can't trust anyone
who tells me I can change the world
from my living room but
come on, think about how can we
alter what we can see because we
don't see these tiny particles, or is it
that we do alter them by looking
into the void to where a wall tells us
that there's a swarm of these things,
or we just don't because if we
are in fact altering them the wall might
turn into a different wall, let's just say, or if
there are two of us looking, it might
as well change from my wall to your beach and if
there are more of us we might end up looking at
an infinite ever-changing never anything per se of marvels
that we all carry around and our observation
would fire up to the swarm of particles
when in apparent reality I was just
standing there staring at my wall alone
the one wall I was looking at with the eyes of the blind,
who see by not seeing.

a taste upon the tongue
of unlikely understanding
as the rage boils through and through
until it cannot be suppressed

drowning deep in standing water
we lose our feet to sink below
into a seeping whole of nothingness
buried beyond the depths of our chest

uncanny to the news of reality
shedding layers of our skin
while replacing madness with sadness
and we dare not protest

but a moment in time is all it takes
to determine what the taste shall be
holding on to pride and hateful creed
yet letting go of all the rest

in the pleasure of discovering
words rhymes rhythms
i'm a gluttonous poet.

day and night
bite of my growing appetite
makes me sink low

i don't notice
broken pieces
shattered peaces
around me

i breathe in writing
eat and drink
poetry

crazed obsessed stressed
my poetry
like any other debauchery
is an escape ride
someplace to hide

i'm a poet
subservient
to the pleasures of words rhymes rhythms.

I hear their foot steps
crunching behind me
as they follow through
narrow paths struggling
not to get lost in the trees.

Moonlight barely gazing
our surroundings becoming
more of a painting in the darkness
and the previously peaceful
patches of forest are haunting
with mystery and our internal
compasses blur into nothingness.

Introducing myself to the unknown
my followers lose themselves
while blindly trying to match
my pace, my crawls, and my falls.

No longer the leader they meant for me to be
Never wanted to be the leader either way
Always to the shackles anyways
Yes I'm walking sideways
into space and beyond
the chaos of being stuffed into a mold of perfection
so intoxicating and draining
sickening, the reckoning
lead yourself and I'll lead me
that. is. perfection.