Relationships are worse than heights-
not even just the romantic kind,
being close with friends is impossible
I keep myself further away than arm's length
miles away
behind sarcasm and jokes
I have no feelings
just humor and abundant kindness.
Alcohol is grand
you don't think
just drink
and everything drains away
and people become less than people
mere ants
who want to care about you and your thoughts
but even then
I don't want their positive regard
I want to make myself invisible
no worries
I'm fine
I will bleed to death here, alone
I don't want to get your hands sticky
I'm fine I promise.
How are you?
Yeah, i just had a line or two
but really I'm cool
my nose bleeds all the time;
those cuts are from my cat;
I wasn't throwing up I just felt a little sick,
I had a huge breakfast
as my stomach rumbles.
I don't want your help
I can be strong
really
I can be miserable without anyone else,
they would only pity
or be disgusted
and really
that would make me crazier than anything.

you're one of them:
the nonsensical
theorhetical
beauty
if such a concept
should even be entertained in a mind
a soul
if I have one
I want to meet it
shake it's cloudy hand,
take it for tea-
we don't like coffee
but philosophy,
shoot
we get drunk until we're dizzy
falling
in love with notions
powerful potions
love and love and love
leave me alone
I don't need it
from you
just stay where you lay
keep your thoughts neutral
leaving your vicinity
is safer and kinder
than saying no
to your flea-bitten face

Dissolve the grime
burn the mistakes
drip down the throat of actions
eat the bacteria
rid it of influences
and perception of memories
until clean,
pristine
brand new
and ready to become, once again, filthy.

As a young gal I married a much older boy,
he was 8 and the love of my life.
Then we divorced when I met Nathaniel;
his blue eyes and love of trains were dreamy to say the least
we never spoke much though
the marriage was unrequitted.
Today I love only writing
people are too animal to keep commitments,
they must eat and hunt and reproduce to repopulate
words simply listen and convey
can be flaky at times when there isn't a word to describe an idea
but at the end of the day
words will not die
unless they are latin
and when enough are written
you will never feel lonliness or discomfort
but only inner peace and relief.

Truancy is a ***** with ***** stamps and skunky hair
her constant need to blow smoke up the ***** of those trying to try
is inconvenient at best, irresponsible at worst,
maybe amusing in the eyes of the elders.
Been there, done that
she rolls her eyes and pouts
slits her wrists with carnival glass
so she bleeds the multi-dimensional colors imperceivable to  human eyes,
an entirely different color spectrum,
ultraviolet, super violent,
tasty and warm.
This young lady is no lady at all
just a little girl,
vulnerable and scared
and a total ****** *****,
grabbing her ankles and thumping in dumpsters,
pretty little thing,
with scabs and gin
and cute little *** stains.
Leave her be,
this street walking angel
she never learned her lesson,
too swag for education.

Catch a falling star on your tongue
soak in the gaseous matter
millions of years of history and marination
long ago
careers were optional
fictional
we picked apples and drank milk
big n strong farm folk
tire swings and moonshine
tractor disasters
Ford made robots of robots
gym class saw mills
ashes to ashes
well hello there my jumpy friend
not enough sulphur in your supper?
Tatted body guards in grass skirts
hubba hubba
let the shayman give us some insight
fire side and full of hallucinogens
we will see the future and past simultaneously
martians will be proud
shame on you jumpy junior
mince the words like horror-flick killers
jack of all trades
let this be the silk road to tradition.

He loves
her hair
finger tips
summer dips
fall skips
missed periods
no love
for that
no love
for unwanted children
parasiting in a belly
unfit for a home
so scared
they were
to tell parents
who would know what they'd say
would they be grounded?
They didn't think
about the child
were selfish
to not tell
were selfish
to keep it
secret
brought it into the world
birthed with silent screams
left for life
maybe
on a door step
no tears
just remorse
and relief
and who could blame
such people
for not wanting
to be responsible?
Not us
for we only want fun
I know I do
want to feel good
to be loved
even if it means
acts of unkindness:
outcomes that mimick
newborn mistakes,
our results are crying infants of moments of selfish pleasure
come to life
only later, the aftermath of a long-since let go desire.

Not sure anymore
how to feel
though it doesn't matter
the hows
but why
and why do I care
if I feel like they're all enemies
deep down
they'd all skin me alive
eat it
rip it off my bones
and laugh
and it's just the way
everyone is
and yet
I could never bring myself
to be so cannibalistic
call it stupid
or naive
but I can't bear the thought
of such delicate flesh
torn apart
because of my own doing;
I want to be safe
and yet
such an unrealistc wish
because as animals
we all wish to destroy
but how come I'm so domesticated?

shun the non-believers,
what time is it anyway?
minty fresh
wind of frebreeze
like it in the ****
icy chills
down yo spine
winter in the mountains
frost bite in places
you didn't know you even
had to go there-
inevitable
to say the least,
I think you're pretty great,
at times,
when you treat me like a princess
and I pretend to be
unaware,
uninterested in being a thing of positivity,
not wanting to be any much of your thoughts,
separate
but really
I want to be there
in your mind
because deep down
I'm selfish like that
I want to control you
but to maintain that status
of superior-
lord forbid
the crashing of humanity
that would occur
were I to be another's-
not part of my genetic makeup,
I don't even wear any-
au naturale-
I'm your kind of girl
and in a way
you're my kind
of destruction of ego

After a few mental miles I was ready to begin.
He took my lips and pressed them to canvas,
leaving behind traces of a mouth that his opinion views as favorable.
The fishy-shaped imprints were soft, red,
and indicated a secret trace of envy.
May I always be your subject?
The focus of your artistic genius and creative drive.
I want to be the molecules in your juices that transfer your thoughts into motion
that makes the beautiful work.
Slick and thick
like blood or oil or ****** secretions
and swim like the dolphins at Sea World,
where we have never been but can only assume contains much majestic movements.
Your hands mold my being like clay,
as Prometheus had done, many years before.
I am your first.
(Though you are not mine)
I inspire the fire
and cause you to steal.
Naughty naughty boy,
your silly perfection makes my insides so tingly
like the sizzling of flaming flesh.
And I wouldn't want it any other way.

it's hard to say exactly
what it is to get your heart broken-
three times, to be exact
by the same person-
difficult to discern why it is
you keep going back
but maybe it's simple:
you love them
you miss the way your life was with them,
so why was it so easy for them to cut and run?
they say "I still love you"
"I wish we could be together"
so why can't we?
long distance *****
but do you know what ***** more?
living without your other half.

So
you're a bad idea
in all ways
and it's true
I play a part
somewhat to blame
but let's just forget about that for a sec
because I want to remain
the good girl
innocent and pure of heart
all intentions correct
and yet
I want to be the bad one
that parents tell their kids
to avoid-
breathing the same air
will result in immediate need
of exercision-
I want your respect,
for you to be a gentleman
but maybe
I just think you're cute.

Where you be
girl
you got sand in your skirt
had a dream that the cat
from that show
slapped me on the back
said "hey girl
I like your style
won't come
and play a while?"
I giggled
it's what I'm good for
what's funny?
All of it
the people
the nothing
the fact that's it's so boring
when there isn't a single thing to do
or person
or place
just nope
but oh well
sing in the sky
like it's 1985
and fall back down
when it's midnight,
curfews are for your own good
like veggies
you like em, you love em, you need em
and then
you leave

How were you supposed to know,
Can’t really blame you
Or me
Or any thing
But for real though,
What were you thinking?
Not about me
Not at all
Nor should you have,
But in all selfishness
You mother ******* should have.

Hey-
what gives you the right
to be so comfortable
with the opposite ***?
How come you can be all flirty with all those ******
and make me feel
so insignificant
when it takes so much out of me
just to have a normal conversation
with such a cool guy?
Sir,
you are the worst
and now I can see
where I stand
in your mind
and I'm not even on your mind
nope
I'm just some dumb girl
not even as cute as all the others
not as ******
not as experienced
so I'm left behind
while you go chat it up
all friendly-like with those bimboes
and I'll be here
like always
angry over something
out of my control.

Greatest hits
never had one
but can't feel so innocent
too guilty
for such pleasures-
call it a fault of sorts
of my own-
never known quite what I want
possibly
because it isn't something to know
but to feel
and said things
are frightening,
no new revelation
at all,
but conflicting thoughts,
negligent feelings;
what do they want?
What do I want?
Do I want the affection
attention
admiration
(as if I deserve them)
or would I truly be happier
left alone
almost bitter,
were there a reason to be,
left to be safe in solitude
never to experience discomfort
never to experience life

Why, hell-oh Mr.Insecurity.
You look so attractive today,
much better than myself.
Your omniscient grip around my larynx is comforting,
you know,
comforting in the way that a tumor won't abandon you;
like a frenemy, a parasite,
feeding off of your good ideas and healthy tissues.

I love you
Mrs. Unknown Future.
Your surprises are so comical,
like a whimsical double homicide
and I am a mere rubber-necking piece of evidence
in your routine.

Dreary little Lonely comes along
stealing all the fun we weren't having.
Why must one be so selfish
with that which does not exist?
Not in spirit, nor in form,
not even in feeling or sound.
Just robbing one of the possibility of a maybe idea.
What if I wanted love?
Or a moment with the warmth of a grandma's homemade cookie.

You all rob me of the concepts I can not comprehend,
because i can not feel.
That is only a wish,
a lie,
because I do feel, too much,
but can not figure out
how to make you all leave me  a sane homosapien.

Don't be silly
ofcourse I am a ******
who has freakish tendencies
and uses jibber jabber language
and makes absurd analogies
like how fried Oreoes, when converted into global currency, is worth one hundred Indian virgins.
Fact:
I am awkward. I make people feel uncomfortable
and they can never follow my train of thought
because it leaves at 4pm from Seattle and will end up in Atlantis at approximately 3,000 BCE
(unless you take wind resistence into account).
I would sometimes rather sit alone and read a  book
than go out and have "fun" with people
and I can become very irritable when around humans for too long
and then my brain becomes unfriendly and my demeanor becomes elderly and dry
and jokes are not funny but just tiring and childish
and then I know it's time for my nap
which does not involve sleeping, because that's more of a miracle than walking on ceilings
so I mostly sit, eyes open staring and sorting out thoughts,
filing away emotions and sensory experiences until I feel recharged and have enough bars
to go out and play again.

you know
the way of everything
you like it
like it all-
like it like a frog loves watermelon
you won't get enough
never
not until
you don't like it
which is never
and i like it

Who is you
that boy
that thing
what is his thoughts
who are his voices
why is he thinking
not of me
or improperly so
so
what to do
about being too odd
too even
never right
left out
of his mind
I think
therefore, I go insane
just want to know
if the feelings are positive
or at the very least
not related to disgust

On nights like these
when I feel the absolute singularity of my soul
I sit
and I think
of anything I possibly can
but you-
can't say why exactly,
I don't think of you often,
not explicitly,
but I know that you are always in the deep recesses of my thoughts
lurking
you are no longer who I knew,
you are a concept
not alive but merely subsisting on my former affections-
I don't know who you are today
or why I feel
that even though we belong not at all to each other
I feel responsible
left out
and yet I know
if I were to know
just what you do between the hours of awake and asleep
if I knew what you were seeing in your dreams
I would fall apart
millions of shattered shards of pain
I would rather never see or speak to you again
than to know the truth of your existence without me.

Henceforth all ducks shall be shackled
entwined in martyrdom
half-shaven and fully aroused
baked and shaked and rattled and rolled
like bunnies, their reproduction
obviously
blantantly
even Freud would scratch his beard
too blatant the ***
obviously there must be another underlying problem
loving alcohol means you need ****
*** obsession means you need
love? Condoms?
Loch Ness Monster came over for tea
drank the imaginary brew
spat boiled liquid onto a canvas and sold it as art
"yes, yes, what does it mean?"
What does it mean?
It means that you think too much and don't feel
and don't think enough too caught up
like me
not perfect just only
and only is all one can do
can be accounted for
one, two, three
fall in-between the divisions of derivatives
damask dames like snoozing penguins
which is
black, white and dread all over
none too sure or very glassy
not too much of anything
just, just.