I hunt antelope in human hordes.
I haul three brooms on one shoulder.
I don't clean up.
I dance with specters and minuscule magenta men.
I am the precocious girl in fuchsia heels and charcoal dress.
I am the humble man with stark white tails.

I pull drops of food from the ether.
I pinch seeds from flower's eyes.
I touch like feathers and embrace like mountains.
I take leave when I want to.
I am the shaggy oak watching his youth flash past.
I am the alabaster orb and the effervescent waves.

I eat the wind with a dash of cinnamon.
I exude thunderstorms from every pore.
I sleep with stingrays and the smell of wet hay.
I spend blood-soaked bills without a second thought.
I am the sinless murderer.
I am the woman with eyes that mend bones.

I fly with eagles in the cerulean.
I fight Irish brawlers with my eyes closed.
I capture hearts in nets of lavender and silk.
I climb towering opal obelisks.
I am the painter's muse and the singer's breath.
I am the hoary frost on ancient limbs.

don't speak, even if spoken to
2. don't listen or attempt to empathize
3. don't comb your hair
4. don't shave
5. don't give your time to past lovers
6. turn off your computer and phone
7. tell your mother you aren't coming home
8. blow up your bridges
9. forget your name and friends as they were as synthetic as television sets.
10. and never ever smile

the weepies and worrieds will tell you there is a bible.
there is comfort in god.
and all you think is,
yeah, i already tried that scene.

the relatives and the rationals will tell you life is only as good as you make it.
perhaps when you fake it.

the lustful and the clinging ex-lovers will tell you they have seen beauty in you,
remind them of damage done.

go on solo strolls.
read poetry that
deals solely with
fire and brimstone.
and never ever smile.

and you will be just as satisfied with your plight,
as this vapor,
who already took his flight.

You never stop running;
Never slow down.
You’ve learned that silence
Is the screeching of sound.
The days keep changing,
But it all bleeds to one,
As you’ve found that sleep
Only wastes time.
The stress you feel
Just means your alive.
That shortness of breath
Helps you survive.
So you move through the world
Blind to it’s beauty,
For you’ve learned things are worthless
Unless they are moving.

sometimes when i look at you,
i hear you as a song.
the song that traps and haunts me,
when it is for you i long.

i hear you in each instrument,
you are the upright bass.
the jazzy riffs of saxophones
paint for me your face.

you are the wild, subtle drums,
the cello and the chimes.
you are the twinkling, dancing harp,
whose timbre simply shines.

i hear you in each symbol crash
and every kick drum beat.
you are the candied flutes,
with notes so sickly sweet.

and the more and more i listen,
the more i feel you here,
i can hold your hand in mine--
tremulous, pure, sincere.

but the longer we are kept apart,
the fainter your theme seems,
until the only place i hear it
is amongst my dusty dreams.

You send shivers down my spine when you walk in,
Cause the butterflies to flutter like mad.
When you look in my eyes,
You burn right through me.
You are the sunshine when my skies are clouded,
The light when I can't find the good in the world.
I could be all that you need,
You are all that I want.
My stomach knots when you are next to me,
You make me nervous and giddy.
I smile at the thought of you,
Quake in your presence.
You have all control over me,
And you don't even know it.