The worst part
Of knowing you
Is not knowing this you
But the old one
You used to be with me
Somehow
For some reason
That I cannot explain
You've morphed
And I wish so much
To go back
To the person
Who'd save me with his eyes
Rescue me from collapse with his smile
And Somehow always knew
When to look back my way
Things seem to change so fast
In a small matter of time
Someone you love
Can become someone you hate
And the person you thought you knew
A person soft and caring
Suddenly becomes this
Completely different person
Cold and too ******* anothers insecurities
Maybe one day you'll change back
And if you do
I'll be here.

The sky above the sea misses the water
once the sun rises, and the skyline sits between them, and I miss you like that.

And, I miss you like the half-blazing cigarette misses those
warm lips
and the breath behind them, that would come in sharp, teasing drags
because the tobacco is nothing without that breath, and that ember goes out

and I think that without you
I might go out, too.

I am a liar or
A storyteller,
Which I prefer.
You can’t find me
In my photo albums;
A different girl
Every year.
I paint many masks
And spin many tales
Just so I can
Finally
Hear anything
I can call my own.
Here is my heart
In essence,
Which isn’t necessarily
In truth,
Though I try
To fit the image.
So many
Separate
Profiles;
All less than a
Fraction
Of a whole.
But who’s to judge
Reality,
Or truth?
Call it equation;
Boil it down to
Numbers, but
Everything
Has variables.

So I’m a liar -
So is the sun,
Shining cold and
Distant
In winter;
So are you,
Pretending.
Calculate the image
Lest you leave
A jumble of
Meaningless
Numbers, just so
Many digits and
Too few faces.

For years I’ve wondered as I wept,
What’s the use of things I’ve kept?
Dusty, broken, put away,
Is there a reason for the things I’ve saved?

Moments pass when I dance alone,
Thinking about the things I know,
Leaping bounds beyond my feet,
Is there a reason my heart still beats?

Sailing by the current's way,
Listless memories begin to fray,
But I turn my head in a righteous rage,
And watch the ashes turn to flame.

Harvest fruits of this tree,
Can no one tell what's left of me?
Living life in this endless cave,
Clawing away from the inevitable grave.

Watching a sunrise turn to dark,
I lament, have I left my mark?
Bits of life run through my hands,
Every moment a grain of sand.

Running alone for many miles,
Against this desert rain I smile,
For fresh beginnings keep me alive,
I know what's waiting when I arrive.

Oceans wash my restless limbs,
Fading out as the twilight dims,
I listen closely for one command,
In the silence, I reach for hands.

Glistening in my closing life,
A shining spark has yet to fight,
But I close my eyes and breath in peace,
Letting go for a sweet release.

There are stars here!
There are stars here, my friends!
And as I lie among the streetlight-
-cast penumbras staring at the
Pentahedral crystal hammock jungle gym
    I am with them!
I am with them in wonder
In joy in amazement in ecstasy in open-
-eyed revelation of truth
As I realize I was born not
In a city of shadows
But in a city of such blinding brightness
That I could never marvel at the darkness
             and the darkness is beautiful here.

Perfect halogen moonbeam outlines of imperfect
Bodies frolicking in selfprescribed madness
Spinning in the chemical centrifuge
Until lights become light and
            encircles us
       endlessly
Creating its own central outward
                Gravity
As I become you become me
And we sail this endless sea of
                Blackness
And we fall ever deeper into the great
               Singularity
everconsuming everlasting
        All Encompassing
Feeling Grasping Gasping
            Growing
                               Seeing
                                              Darkness.

I­nstruments of depravity
Forged great, twisted
Spinal curvatures held proud
And feared by the mighty
For our words poison their youth
Revealing our shadowy enlightenment
Clarifying with murky water
Promises of intangible tangibilities.
Beautifying chaotic tangled
Masses forming perfection in
         nebulous
       amorphism.
                     Downward, Downward
                        Circling ever downward
                           Spiraling veraciously downward
Downward the holy!
Downward the giving!
Downward unto Heaven!
Downward unto Hell!
Downward unto Creation!
                  Down.
Where the soul becomes concrete
And the concrete vague
                                                 synesthetic
                                                     ­                     bliss.
     The Darkness is beautiful here.

6 September 20l0

Terrifying façade,
long and tall, overpowering
but frail.
Ready to crumble and fall.

Snide wire intertwined,
exit wounds in the concrete flesh.
Each thorn stood to attention,
unwelcoming guards of the now unwanted.

Block after block
of relentless alleyways,
like a labyrinth of colossal gravestones.
The sky opens.

Water rattles bullet-like,
upon the once majestic city walls.
The cathedral moans its last hymn
as the steeple betrays itself.

The descent prevails.