These dead stares across the shopping mall
Wouldn't I care if I could have them all
Fingerpainting these eyes
**** photos: camera shutter sighs

But her breath is morse code
And my words are falling
Her dial tone dilates
As her moans are calling

She fell in love with a filter
And I fell in love with someone's daughter
We took pictures in the summer time
And she threw them into the water

When she lies, her cheeks flush
She swears that she doesn't care much,
as she sits in her underwear
with a light grin and a heavy heart.

She felt her pulse by the bed light
She was sad that she was alright
I watched her paint her dad on fire
while holding infant her.

I heard the window shatter
She never said what was the matter
I found her on the driveway,
broken like a family picture frame

Mourn not seeking the shades
For shadows are light and light shades
Fear not fearing cowardice
Cowardice is you, fear is a tale

Live not your lived past
Past was yours, you are present
Shed not the pearls from ocean deep
Pearls are precious, save for crescent

Breathe not in scented air
Scent is delusion widely sprayed
Adorn not in ornaments
Life is a play, set and staged

Hear not music nor whispers within
Dust is everything and dust within

The
       Flower
                    Blooms
                                  Before
                                                It
                                                     Dies.
                                             *The
                                     Tear
                            Falls
                Before
           It
Dries.

You wonder
why I wiggle
so much
why my legs
bounce,
and my hands
twitch.
Truth is,
my mind
can't slow down
It doesn't know
how to take a day off,
its far too good
at tormenting me
more and more
with each
passing second.

-JRM

I was asleep in the backseat.
At least I pretended be.

The man in the driver's seat
began to spill insecurities
on the cold steering wheel
and into the woman's ear
about how his children
judged him too harshly,
were too emotional.
That he'd done the best
he could with what
he knew.
That man was my father.
At least he pretended to be.

I was asleep in the backseat.
At least I pretended to be.
But my mind was wide awake
flashing angry colors I couldn't
comprehend.

I could not comprehend how
the man in the driver's seat
believed that his actions,
his infidelity,
would roll off his children's
shoulders like warm rain
water.

I could not comprehend how
he felt sorry for himself
because we would always see
him as the bad guy,
the cowboy with the black hat.

I could not comprehend how
he'd expected us to feel.

But we were all okay, now.
At least we pretended to be.

You will find nothing here.

I am a balloon in the slippery hand of
a child standing idle on the boardwalk
and in seconds or years I will be released
into the grey sky

And for a while I will fly there
Hell, I may even die there

But for now I'm lying in the darkness
letting the summer ants crawl on my skin
and in the s p a c e s between sad songs
i ask them their opinions

and they tell me
You will find nothing here.