I’ve gone through uncountable cups of coffee
over the past few months,
but none of them ever quite taste the same
as the first one I’ve had.
Sometimes not enough cream,
other times too much sugar;
always without you
on the other side of the table.

I thought I would run out of words
when soft beams of light peaked past the horizon,
like the letters would sink down with the moon.
Because for years I’ve made the stars my ink
and the night sky my canvas.
I guess the sunlight just feels strange
when you’ve spent so much time in darkness.
But now it warms my frosted fingers,
pulsing liquid lava through my veins.
Sleepless nights becoming tired mornings.
But they are new.
And so am I.
I can write about hope,
even if I have so little left.
I can write about truth,
even though I lie right through my teeth.
I can write about peace,
even though I see none of it in me.
And I can write about love,
even though I haven’t the faintest clue
of what it could be.

The internet, social networking, you, reading this, now.


It’s all about surface value, the judgment of likes and dislikes. It’s all about interests,


"Oh, you like this band?
this movie,
this painting,
this author,
this show,
this *******?"

"Oh, you’re so cool, you’re such an awesome person", obviously.

You will never know me, never know who I am, and with the way this world has shifted,
with the acceptance of this voyeurism of superficial attractions, I’m afraid neither will I.

You’ll rarely know when I’m genuine or when I’m plagiarizing, original or manufactured, real or phony.
But that’s alright, it keeps a distance, it keeps things calm, and safe, and clean.

That’s all we really want. A facade, a dream, the image of our desires, not the manifestation.
We want cold, hard, unbreakable, shiny plastic perfection.

No one wants the warm, moist, moving, ever changing mess that is life, and love, and humanity.

So stay at your computer, stay inside your factory, keep typing instead of talking,
keep pushing instead of feeling, keep staring instead of looking.

It’s okay, it’s alright, it’s now.

*circa 2009