I open all the windows at night
and let the frigid canyon wind wrap me
like a sheet

It's never cold enough,
truthfully

There's never enough justification
to sleep next to some(one)thing
warm

It lets in all the mosquitoes
and the ******* squirrels
wake me up with their
idle chatter
each and every morning
but I like it.

The comedown's most always
(never)
worth the high
(So I'm quitting stimulants
and other people)

But then I remember
that when the music
resolves
it's almost always
worth the wait

so I think
"Just one more day,
then,
just one more beer,
just one more roll of the dice-
they're bound to come up
sixes
sometime"

I could sit
here naked in front
of this typewriter
and tell you
about how I'm the wind
about how I'm a good guy (no really)
about how I'm a ******* (really)
about how i am                            (an artist)
i am                                                                              (a martyr)
i am                                                                                                           (a fool)

But frankly I can't think of anything I am
that I really believe any more.

What's the right way to say I'm emotionally unavailable.
You can't have them because they only swim in my ink.
Like a flurry of scribbled words on the back of my napkin.
All the love and pain right there.
"I need you back".

There is a realization to be had when you come to miss the feeling more than the person. When it was never about the person to begin with.

If it wasn't the person... How do I find it again?

I always fell in love too hard too fast.
I guess I let it flood out and now I've got no reserves.

I can't even force it long enough to imagine you next to me. "I don't love you."

Will I even recognize it when Its at my doorstep again.

You always hear of those people who say they are broken and think, how could you be? It's not until you find the shattered peieces hiding behind the door that you see how it really is.

I wish there was a human handbook to repair a heart. DIY heart repair.

I seem to win hearts.. But all I end up doing is resending the prize.

Don't stop tying right? I wonder how many battle fields I'll wander today...

I was born tall and thin
and pink
like a ****** steak.
I cried until I could run
and then ran
like a lunatic,
screaming peals of laughter
and destroying
without guilt
as kids do-

and still I was
skinny.

I was skinny in elementary school.
The other kids took to football
and dirt bikes.
I was still pink
like an underripe
tomato.

I grew up tall and thin
in a world for shorter
and fuller people.
With crooked teeth and
glasses.

I was skinny in middle school.
When the other kids started to build muscle
you could've played my ribs
like a xylophone.
You still could.

I grew up tall and thin
and frustrated
like a ****.
I never fit on public busses
or in the little plastic desks
at school.
My feet stuck off the end of my bed.
They still do.
I slouched and hiked my shoulders up
so as not to obstruct others'
line of sight.

I still do.

I was skinny
when I first fell in love.
What she saw in me,
I can't say.
I was tall
and thin
and crooked
but I wanted so badly,
just for once,
to be the right shape
for her.
She was rather short
and had caramel skin.
We made an odd couple.

I grew up tall and thin,
a square peg in a world of round holes.
I'm skinny today-
a pinkish wisp
with a skinny soul
tucked away behind dark sunglasses.

I was born skinny.
And I'll probably die skinny
too,
and make a tall,
thin corpse
for a much
shorter,
wider
casket.

My nightsong, what used to be your home
                                                       in my head

Is now filled with ghosts and webs
I sing to the midnight highway traffic
And the stars hang low to hear

If there is a constellation for me,
Come down now
              
                and share this cigarette

Come down and tell your story

I've paced these halls
Between worlds

I've spent my last dollar
On cab fare to see you
                   When the sun is rising
                   and no promises are made

                               So come now,
And tell me why i've felt so old
Since that equinox when I
Looked into my head and
                           Found the gods

When I ran to you racing the dawn
Only to find an empty apartment
And I tried to summon you from
                                         The ether,
but couldn't

So instead I wandered the town,
Bought cigarettes and flowers,
Finished that book I was reading,
And made a few phone calls

That's all I've been up to since then,
Doing the chores, passing the time
Telling everyone that you'll
                                      be back soon

But you still haven't come home,

And I've been waiting
                                          like a widow

Dear Amber Rose,

El pueblo unido jamas sera vensido.
(A city united would never be beaten)
"Half naked and I'm still not asking for it" - some crazy chick

Poem begins:
You are preaching women empowerment.
Dress how you dress make your self feel ****
Even it means wear nothing while walking in the streets.
I get the motive of your movement **** Walk I guess that's what we should be teaching our daughters.
But if you're dancing on that ***** pole now that's a different story.
Tell us how many ***** you had to **** to make it to the glory.
Hard to preach to a generation that glorifies strippers and undermines knowledge.
I am so pro women but **** like **** Walk and so on are the reason we are separated
men and women segregated.
Your biggest concern is what next party you are hosting, while these young girls are all confused about their bodies getting liposuction.
Trying to be you
Trying to be you
But why? when even Wiz Kalifa depicted you as an object and didn't glorify.
***** is power between the right pair of legs.
Tell us how many motel sheets have you gotten wet.
Such a shame our ancestors probably turning in their graves. Lauryn Hill wasn't naked and sold more then Nicki, Iggy, and Kim combined.
The real definition of a role model
Guess that's why you differ
Since you're a *** model.
To ***** licious to be a runway model.
But perfect for the *** shot I want to spray up in your mouth model.
Then go kiss your son with the same lips you rocked the mic model.
Women rights is not about a dress code.
Is so much deeper but what can be expected from a stripper.

El pueblo unido jamas sera vensido.
(A city united would never be beaten).
El pueblo unido jamas sera vensido.
(A city united would never be beaten)

Sincerely,
A concerned father

you may not know me
face to face,
but you and I have connected
heart to heart through words.

Our lives are woven together by
the tapestry of words,
and into a living breathing poetry.

you and I are no longer strangers,
but fellow poets and sojourners
on this journey of creation.