stars are weird
their light, to us,
spells utter darkness for them

sometimes i feel like atoms flung;
other times, like
atoms in flight
arching toward some strange
sideshow attraction
at the end of time.

shiny carbon lattice wilt

return
to ocher and
worm

you have wanted all there is
to want
-ever-
with your
looks
your hooks

petals fell

i
am
downstairs now
unstarred

crawlers mouthing
eat eat the shine

first comes the awe
then

the some

you
know
nothing

and that's something

yuh know??

the arm
of this scar
always at my elbow
dulcet flicks
of the wrist
cheekcornerlip kisses
the let that grabs

tumescent ruin,
grabbing my
pompeii. mass grave
palming after massive
onslaught from those
unmasses of
darkest mame always.

if i focus hard enough
i can
budge
all my molecules
that once were snug
embedding slivers of space
till solitude is my room

one slice
would be nice
to finally see
the feels

incision speaks

lol's spurt
as i watch w my distant

eyes
a glass w crushed ice

nobody is
who they say they are

all is light and lighter still
ppl flake ppl flake

i am not ok w the chasm
of rich deep that
stares and mocks my shallow
reach

im tired now
lights dim

im almost out of
things to make up from
thin air

it's garbage
and yet it
stills things for a time

the frames seen
stain quick
the me

color come

i focus
on the push
and how it moves
white
into redbluegreen *stir

I'm always off
The beaten path
Tryin to beat back

This rift

Rivulets

Of the purest dark
that could lift a ship - I slip

into thoughtstreams
of
red
blue

green  

I thought love was a thing
once
but now I know it's a
process

A memory in situ -SPUN-
stitching pastpresentfuturistic flits

Catch it in the ebbflow
grasp it
and it will saturate the glow

i have lived
my life.
i have made friends and
mistakes and love, and
all the other things between.

i mean, i don't like to go out much - so what?
i like my room quiet - is that weird?
solitude is
sorta my
thing.
i feel alive, there.

my thoughts, alone,
in my
head, are
still real.

i have
lived my life
******. yet
i still feel
a hand
as cold as the window sill
in the middle of winter
crawl up my back
and give me that
condescending pat -
"we know, kiddo. we know."

i know i know but i jus
can't
rn

tired

you are not written down
you are always
almost poem

her pictures are blue
her fissures are too
her scissors are true
her 6:30 is late

but it
lays me down inside
the soon
mushroom tip bloom blown foam

i cut carrots and kale
and eat it w soup
delaying the doom of this, this

there's an art to a sort of despair
that does not care
so much

be still
it'll

cool pools of red
n fetch your trusty bones
it lets you bare something realer
no matter the shadows of then

yuh know
it won't ******* **** you
to have nothing to say sometimes
except a knowing look or glance

and tomorrow is tomorrow and the marrow
of this bone's blood slips off
like a shoe worn
for too long

if only the rip
could kiss these lips of mime
and make it want to speak again

i feel like
the overactive imagination
of some bored kid

existing

in another dimension

****
is
******

there is no sky zombie luvsya. no. no-thing is king. ******* we are not good. we are clods of dirt animated by hurt and fear and blueskiesnomore

i feel sad way too much. it's getting bad again again

me? stuck
inside this, t h i n g,
inside my
skull,
the size of two consecutive fists;
it won't stop
slinging thoughts thoughts thou g h t  s. you?

my father is 62

it
KILLS me
to hear him
talk about his knees

they are shot

he sez

i am getting
old

he sez

we aren't even close
and yet hearing this
makes me
cry the worst kind of tears

things don't happen
for a reason

they happen for
an imagination

raining
so much yay

i don't wanna do this anymore but i will ialwaysdoacquiesce

you have to be strong
because I am weak

as
****

the i in me wants to us
but first you must get better

get better
OK?
stay alive
don't
die

As the night gets darker
Deeper in
My head growths thick
With taut thoughts held
My grip feeling it out

tears

in rain