so up from yesterday,
riding by, and tonight i fly high,
searching for the lines and dials,
lights casting shadows on the wall,
they burn blue and green eternally into the memory,
fingers dash across images,
running away across smiles and angles,
merging together the past,
sewing all these frozen moments into a strange canvas across my eager eyes,
hungry and pitiful,
deep sorrow and unrealized happiness fall in light upon my darkened face,
illuminating the minutes and seconds that are my age,
sleep in harmony and glowing,
i swim in music and darkness,
lovingly i am taken for a short time, until once again i will rise, and then remember

So I feel like flyin all rage and rushing blood,
picking you up and taking you away to anyplace I'd know you'd be safe,
no wait that's not what I meant to say,
I feel like a painter,
my body aches,
my canvas bleeding out all the moments we could make,
no that's not it,
I feel like a dog with panting tongue and wagging tail who just won't stay....still?
how can I explain what it means to feel this way?
Like a boy at Christmas or on his birthday?
I want to open the gift of your eyes?
Your smile?
Your thighs?
No too sophmoric, no too fat, no too general,
shyly a lioness approaches a gazel and asks politely if she could eat him and then still feels guilty afterwards,
your hair leads the way to a wailing of angels as they die,
this is why I want to consume your beauty, quite simply I am greedy for your curves,
any sense of these words?
or numb?
Any smile?
Please do, I love it,
please sigh or moan... or both.

We glide and turn down dim lit dance ways as light reflects off her beaming face,
I am home tonight in this still warm air of tobacco essence and wine illumination,
do you believe in happiness?
Do you believe in joy?
In red soft glows of silent rejoicing and the triumph of moments too loud to ignore?
Do you believe in haunting devils and mirrors of silver liquor and powders that bring freedom with shackles in tow?
How about friends with daggers with sharpened tips and a place between your ribs to go?
About it all, its true,
rest assured, I could give it all to you down a broad and easy road,
just one, two, three as you step down with me through this graveyard of still images and the not so happy laughter I’ve come to know.

What's wrong little blue bird?
Pulse,
heart beating and bleeding,
little blue litter bug crying on my napkin on this park table in a storm,
the wind blows your hair and the dead leaves caress our faces as you lay all of heavens secrets at my feet,
I care,
I always have,
about all those tears that weave their paths across your cheek.

I still think of you every day
I still remember your light
I still remember your pain
I still remember the promises that we made
I still regret that it all went away
I still miss your lips across my neck
I still miss your breath upon my face
I still wish you were here with me and I still have the heart that you gave

my hands, their so *****, my hands, their so bruised,
I hate the scars that you call tattoos,
I hate each time you crush the feelings I have for you,
I hate the fact that you proclaim your desire to have me around, because I know its just to fill all the free time that you seem to have found,
you ***** and moan and smoke cigarettes in the sun but when I try to speak the truth that’s when you run, youd cry if I ever left and youd laugh if I called you love,
bittersweet, bittersweet,
you’ve been drowning for years while ive been watching from above,
bitter tears, friendship and fear, why is it so hard to tell you im done?  
I feel lost, and I feel joy,
I have moments to tell and words to lay my soul upon,
I set them down gently upon an ocean of air,
sometimes they find their way to peoples hearts and do their damage,
the evidence is in their laughter,
in their anger,
in their tears,
you don’t understand she said,
you don’t know,
I thought I could be happy she said, just this once I thought it would be alright,
and now I’m supposed to pretend, Im supposed to pretend not to care,
not to want you,
not to be upset,
you don’t understand, for a little while I was happy.

I wrote you a letter she said as we were walking hand in hand upon the gravel road leading to the bridge with its dark waters below. She says this so nervously and with a small smile upon her lips. I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened. She says almost guiltily. She pulls it out and awkwardly hands it to me as if she is worried she wont be able to give it to me later because she would lose her nerve. In that moment my heart breaks and I am a small child again. Oh, I say, thank you, I say, but really I want to pick her up and kiss her face and tell her I love her more than any other before her, either that or run away and hide from her. We walk to the bridge in the night and we climb down its bank and find a spot in the darkness beneath it. I set my bag down and take out the spray cans and began to paint hell and heaven and earth upon the bridges concrete underbelly by the glow of a flash light we had brought. Here, I say, I got this color for you, and as I hand her the can she says she just wants to watch me for a while. After a few minutes she picks up the can and begins to carve out her own piece on the bridge. I am secretly proud of her for doing this but don’t say anything. She paints a heart and then her initial. She is pleasantly surprised by her own skill and lets me know it. I continue my own work and had forgotten all about the letter until I hear her voice softly in my ear. I want you to read it she says. I want you to read what I have written to you. Oh yeah? I say, you don’t want me to wait? No she says, I did want you to wait at first but I cant wait, I want you to read it now. She is impatient, and nervous, and amazingly beautiful. I take it out and unfold the pages, she moves around nervously as I begin. Her words speak of love and trust, of never feeling the way she did now. They cry out with her heart and cut my soul in two. The whole time she watches me as I am ripped to pieces in the dark, underneath that bridge. She spoke of all the things I never wanted to hear because I could not love her in the way that was laid out upon that pale, white page. I wrote you a letter she said, to tell you how I feel. I am brought low by the unbridled honesty on the page. With all the misspelled words and clumsy attempts at expressing what she felt so strongly in her heart. I am destroyed by her love. Its so hard ,she says to me then, to watch you walk away, and so easy to let you back in. Later as we lie awake in her bed, I stare into her eyes and see only sadness. What baby? I ask, whats wrong? Im just waiting she says, waiting for you to leave again. I wrote you a letter, she says. And I want you to read it right now.