Pajama pants

milk in glass

watching clocks that don’t move fast

enough.

Leftovers

&

the same.

Microwave myself away

past the unsettling thoughts

into the very daunting forefront.

May I never sing like an angel again

For you, and no one else that cares

for more than a drink and a meaningful stare.

I'd lost my way with words for a bit
to ever think i'd live with it
the fleeing summer
& love's final dream
It tears my soul
it rips and screams.
I don't know much of
what I think
but I know
I know
it helps to drink.

Can't count on diamonds to show

themselves-

Can't count on the ancient ways,

& you can't count

on it

to be raining when

you really need it.

You can't count on everyone to

stay.



You can't count on Christmas forever.

You can't count the hundreds

of

lights.



Similar

in which

I imagine you

&

I know

that maybe

you're right.



I count too much

I'm covered in rust.

But,

all apart from

fading to dust-



this

must

be

the next big thing.

This must be falling in lust.

Such the night,
The clouds and a 'lone tower;
in hindsight;
a moon and spring flower.
to begin with,
it was too beautiful
for
some spectre
not to
come crashing down upon
us.
& the days that would
let loose
and carry mud
to all the walls,
they'd remind us.
they'd remind us.

What is it so that

shakes me?

Does no sleep invoke

such haste things?

& how is it

your eyes can wake me?

Maybe

somethin’ about them take me.

Something beautifully intelligent

&

kind.

Something,

in your eyes.

Partial laundry
lazy thought
the whites and the colors
it begins with the spots
and we sort it all out
combing crumbs from our hair
and as we slide into our own
we start to feel the pinch of our stares

Never-weather will always be
and evidently you're still
unhappy.
Something close inside of me
begs the question of eternity
but something closer still to see
shines too bright for such a speech.

No one wants your God and bread
No one needs your hand in hand.

The sorted and clean will find a way out;
a scapegoat and a martyr,
an election that doesn't count.
A breathless wonder standing taller than time
and in a few short seconds
&
a rev of the engine
Such a sight is simply lost
with no way to rewind.

It begins with the spots
and we sort it all out.
We fix things, we say
but we really tear them all down.

half the time i'm too tired
&
half the time i'm not in the
mood.
A lot of the times
I never get where I want,
I never
enjoy as many things
as I
should.

But most of the time,
you're on my mind
& I can tell that it's something
good.
because none of the things
that I thought were so great
ever stood a chance against
you.