it feels as if everything
needs to be done all at once
watching all your fallen words
while you become a ghost in my presence
a subtle trembling “I'm not ready”
unable to breathe you in
you needing time & space
feeling like any other given reason
strung out to dry
will make you fall further behind

Am I a killer or just uninterested
And wonder about stars
Hearing cheap blue melodies
Seeing empty bottles
Wanting to feel like an absent clown
A stained shadow on the inside

Pretending to exist
It feels like an hour
I touch senseless wrists
You worry about the loss in my eyes
A constant work-around of victims in Detroit
I am bored by alley-ways

It's a lost word the causes our death
Liars are in my augmented view
We dream on the edge of the earth
And blame you for all lost sunrises
I hope nothing happens

your dress covers our life
together
no need
we are absent from each others
intent
quiet acts further down
feel unlike
the story you tell me

i don’t want to write anything
i wan to lay in bed and
do nothing
some words creep into my head
i write some down
i don't need to treat you anymore or any less
i moved to los angeles and shattered my view
i forgot my childhood
a few years after that
saturdays mowing the lawn and i missed a blade of grass
and it all came down to the sound of 12 screams
i learned not to make any sounds
alone is better
i am the worst case in town
i watched people from afar
it feels like a play for an audience of one
the meaning of pain
getting the **** beat out of you
made me want to learn to type
books are the only voices that taught me where i could go
i can’t feel that way any more
i'll keep writing

i am left with
all these alien feelings
as you stand by the window
rain and wind slowly
make their way into you
the light from your cigarette
becomes colorless
in and out...every breath
the whisper of being here
gives the idea of being out of place
as you will without-end be a long goodbye

i think i know
that somewhat ulterior suggestion that you crept into my mind
like a vivid rainbow across your face
light transmissions offering up your words
your image is on repeat
and our sentiments are all quite something else
always on hindsight
on turmoil
easily not speaking
confused about what we want
overexposed to death
we each smell detached
the way we sound in the distance
often too frail to reach inside our beautiful loneliness

if it seems unclear
know that it is
no faces worn
an empty bottle
an uncertain smile
is all that needs to be bought
and sold
the bigger thoughts just
ambush your mind
it feels like I have been
stealing dawn's early demise
cover your face
with plastic bags...has it began to feel
like the audience had left
all those eyes
ears and mouths
I could not help
the darkest shadows and
the faltering lullabies
of your facade