I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."

You know what is excellent?
Rain.
Kissing in the rain,
Singing in the rain,
All of it is wonderful.
Beautiful.
******* gorgeous.
And I don't give a **** what you have to say.

You know what is amazing?
***.
*****, rough, sweat dripping down your back,
Eyes dilated,
Teeth clenched,
Cheating, no good ***.
It's ALL wonderful.
And I still don't give a ****.

You know what astounds me?
People.
People and their words.
Their thoughts and judgments.
Their captivity in their own personal business.
Their lack of freedom.
The fact that every **** day,
They do something annoying.
The fact that every single day,
They care a little too much,
The fact that they can't take time to indulge anymore.
Work work work, it's all just
Mother.
*******.
*******.

Live life a little more people.
You've only got one,
Make every second count.

I don't care if you get drunk at parties every night,
Or you spend your nights on Xbox live,
Maybe even playing Magic with a group of other guys.
I don't care you you're the kinda person that ***** every night,
I don't care if you are a ****** 'till you're 25.
I don't care.
Just do whatever.

Because we're all pretty much dead already.

you were love punked and had those bags under your irony.
you looked good for the guy seen eating his toes
on a closed beach.

she just left.

Jupiter is a dead fist. But i am lately disembarked in your parlor. loving farce.
you are twinkling in the chamber ***. you pay rent.
but i am hately, loving instruments of accidental art.
This poison is the only one that loves you.
a superman, afraid of how brittle
your Memory Lane.

We   cut    and  shook
our    hands,   formed
a  bond   as  you  told
me,   "I will always be
in you as your blood."
But now you have dis-
appeared and all I am
left with is a  scar and

anemia.

Am I a joke?

I look around
my family is
laughing at me.

When I am myself...
They hate me.
They question me.
They ignore me.
I'm no one.

When I'm someone else...
They love me.
The laugh at/with me.
They hug me.
They want me with them.
I'm not ignored.

Who should I be?

I look to the right and see
clown shoes, wigs, makeup.

I look to my left and see
converse, sweaters, journals.

To be noticed or not,
by my family?

......

I finish tying up my shoes and look up
to the mirror.
I want to cry.
The wig itches,
Clown shoes are uncomfortable,
Make up makes me look ugly.

When will I stop wanting love from my family?
When will I stop yearning to be noticed by them?
When will I get to be me?

I am pathetic

**Open Curtains