I heard you in the shower
something sad and slow

I fell madly and instantly,
and you didn't even know

Listen.
You can almost hear the raindrops
whisper to one another.
Listen.
You can hear the rhythm of your footsteps
Muffled by the puddles on the ground.
You say you love the rain, yet you complain
Every time it reaches out to touch your face.
It is as if each raindrop is a space between
One second and the next,
Seperating the past from the present.,
The present from the future,
And it is a cliche, but they say
That now is called the present because each second
Is a gift.
Wrapped up in paper they call clouds
And stolen the very instant it is unwrapped,
You always wonder
What you will open next.
And in a clap of thunder you realize
It is not the rain you hate, but the future.
Theres always somewhere to go,
Someone to see, some reason
‘I cant go there with my hair like that’
Some reason to say I'm sorry,
I'm sorry,
I'm sorry.

Listen.
The rain never apologizes ,
And that's what makes it beautiful.
Somehow it reflects a time when man was primal,
Before he gave himself the right to fear,
And it was simple,
And it was beautiful.

Listen.
The rain whispers *I love you,
And I am not sorry.

burn the light of fire
and wax the ears of injustice.

chide the moon
and bid ado to the reckless sun.

count the blessings of misfortunes
and wave verbs in the air--
breathing the hopeful breaths of married sandals

Label the pains of a billion rain drops and fawn the feathers
of a nightingale over the glory of failed
triumphs known as yesterday.

break the hands of a wristwatch and make a ******* of time--
for through the God in Satan was how Earth was won.

How much Hell could a person
swallow before they drown?

Fake smiles but broken inside
Times are tough nothing to hide
Goes with the flow till no return
Do damage skip town
No time to cope or deal with consequences
Imagination of madness
Burns a path with no survivors
The wreck makes others aware
Eyes staring no one caring
Protect those who bring the danger
Respect those who have none
The dream buried alive within
Broken spirit shines when fixed
Protect select from self destruction

A tear is shed
For those who are blind to the beauty of this world
Who can only feast on sarcasm, writhing in irony
        *It soon evaporates.
Pictures of a future dressed in ribbons and lace, cast off and burned
Pictures of the future carrying disdainful dystopia, infamous for invalids
Hung to admire in sublime distaste by those that seek knowledge
And see the repetitious antiquities of time that come to pass
        But others care not for plans and the imminent
Those that keep to the light of the gas
And carry the past to the present
Hoping for trends to try again, reliving what they had never lived
Laconic and loquacious in emotions and words
Against the gossip, but paradoxically
Pushing for the creation of their “ritualistic social Golgotha”.
Those who abuse the glory of their munificent, malicious mentality
Pathetically unable to procure authentic happiness
       A tear is shed.
Inside the recesses of the soul where emotions dare not dwell.
       It too evaporates.
Trapped in fear and the “cliched harlequin speech of suicide”
Begging for the masses to cast them out and find each other
       A tear is shed.
Never seen but felt as it evaporates.
Felt by those who envelop themselves inside themselves
Those who plagiarize their sick self-conscious souls
Those who bring about the very misfortune they strive to devour
Those who are effortlessly envied as they exploit their habitual recreations
       By those who wouldn’t dream of falsified euphoria
Those who bastardise and deface the name of creative individualism
As waters of the soul are purged and discarded
       They are felt by those
And are quickly washed away in doubt and regret
Keeping to the light of the gas, dangerous and warm

when that strange man in the park
asked me if love could cause physical pain
i told him that i fell in love with a smile
once
a smile that lassoed and squeezed my heart and lungs
until they were one boiling *****

a smile that buried into my back
pulled out the pink shy parts
i paid an expert to destroy
pink devils
i cried into my cousins shoulder on autumn benches
pink tears

i fell madly pinkly in love with a smile
plucked like a fish from dark winter water
admired
looked after
worthy of inspection
smiling breath on my scales and back
where the pink between them is apparent

then hurled back into winter water
where the day discharges slowly over the grass
in the courtyard.

i told that strange man in the park
my pink insides fizzle-pop like meat on
the summer sidewalk
when i imagine the smiling angler
making that next pull

admiring and smiling
cradling the back like a
pink chalice

That one thinks it's first catch.
As did I. Dark lip burn marks
On the pink.
Physical Pain.