i did a funny thing today:
i went right up to my shower
head, you know, one of those
reflective kinds where you can
see your face warping into the
funniest shapes (i didn't laugh),
i went right up to it and watched
as my mouth filled up with warm
water over and over again; and
spilled out over and over again too,
like pools and waterfalls or blood
and drowning (morbidity isn't
really my style, but i went with it),
for an hour, at least.
afterwards, i brushed my teeth
and noticed the hoodlum shadows
underneath my bright blues that
used to be so beloved by my
scatterbrained spanish teacher
and the sweet lady who helped
to surgically extract four pieces
of usurping bone from the corners
of my mouth.

i think one existential crisis is quite
enough for one day, thank you.

******* i forgot to shave.

"boldly resisting authority or an opposing force"


but
you call me defiant
like it's a bad thing

gentle, like the
                         dips, and
                                         grooves,
and soft protrusions of a skeleton,
but more alive, like muscle tissue
over my skull; woolen proteins
fortifying my ears against chill,
keeping my hair stretched taut
against my scalp and finishing
with a flourish of purled texture
cascading abruptly to my neck.

i liked it because it matched
       the lining of my jacket,
       it tied my reds together,

i liked it because it made me
      stick out like a sore thumb
      looking to catch a ride to
      San Francisco or detention,

i liked it because it caught me up
      in the eight legs of disapproval,
      (even though they respected me
      in the utmost, they still tripped
      me something fierce)

i liked it because it taught me selflessly
      never to wear it again.

Oh hello there… What’s your name?
I can’t seem to hear you…
Ah, I see your problem.

See here?
This is where you look, It’s a hole in the door.
No no no…  Don’t knock. They know you’re here.
You see its made of glass, they see us, you and I
But we… we have this… little hole.

See?
We see them, but we’ll see the little things.
The unnoticed wink
The oh so slight smirk
The ever uncomfortable shrug.
They see us… It’s true!
But theres solid air
Right. In. between.

Don’t go screaming, don’t go shouting
You’ll only look the fool, I’m telling you.
So come over here, move on to the next hole,
See what you can see.

That girl over there? She’s just like us.
That guy there? He doesn’t like what we do.
Some people can’t stand it. We see their mistakes, or… insecurities.
But we don’t really know what’s going on… do we?

Now now… Don’t give me that look.
you know its true.
Just look here, I’ll show you.
Why… He looks sad, and the way he watches her?
Oh and her glare. Now… It’s not our place to judge, remember that.
We’re just watchers.

Most people don’t know about us, and few ever notice.
It’s true! There’s a difference between murmurs through this door
and a real conversation.
Ah, now you’re getting it. I can tell by your face.
Now now… Don’t look down, it’s just fine... you’re not alone.
Just keep an eye out.

See… Look here.
See her? She’s looking right at you.
She’s a rare one, just watch…
she’s walking straight towards us.

See… There are people, people out there, who see that door you're behind and the hole you’re looking through. They’ll see you… Just as you see them. And they’ll break this glass door.

Knock knock my friend

She’s calling you out
...
....
Now now… don’t cry, It’s just fine
.......
Yes… I know they’re happy tears.

Hold on tight, they’ll hold on just as hard.

Goodbye and take care.

full circle, nearly, although
i'm not sure around what
it is i seem to be revolving,
for i am not moon, nor star,
nor planet nor body of astral
importance; i am a boy, and
even then, the definition could
be more secure than it is, for
i am not a ship, i have no anchor,
nor sails, my starboard side is
used for writing and my port
is lost in the stormy blue of
the stripes on your dress shirt,
those matching the woven bracelet
i still haven't had the heart nor
gall to remove from my wrist,
like a watch, hands however
not spanning minutes or hours
ticking off each grain of sand
to fall,
[like taking inventory of eternity]
           but pointing incessantly
back to you again, though you
are not the true north i seek, and
a wristwatch has no real business
dealing with dimensions beyond
its design and understanding.
a compass is perhaps better
suited to my purpose, though
the bearing would be thrown
by the lumps of iron remaining
beneath my skin, like braille,
and i the blind man groping
for a means -- any means --
to decipher the message left
hidden in my very fibers
by the electromagnetism
of your goodbyes.

if ever i needed you it is now --
and still the portal you promised
is closed, and no music sounds
for me as it did for you, for it
is you who has quieted it.

There is a wish,
that I have kept close,
through and through days that have past
for fear that it would not last
in the eyes of one I would ask,

To sit and talk
for hours at a time,
and perhaps a walk
through hills we can climb.

And so tired am I
of my lonesome ways
that I would dare, be so bold
to have my wish be told,
to you, the one I would ask
through no such mask
as this,
and say.
That I see no broken rose.
but a woman just as beautiful.

I’ve always had the narcissistic belief
that I deserved poetry
but I’m starting to realize
that us who live in words
fall for the purity of actions

the melancholy you wear always
is becoming of you, albeit repeated.
I reminisce about last year
about the ethereal days
filled with pain yet,
                                           I felt... like, I was supposed to
does that make sense to you?

your furtive glances make me anxious
anticipating the moment
where you regurgitate your words
your unpoetic bile

that I drink in so willingly
so deep
our movements ripple
our murmurs trail off

to somewhere we cannot follow