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you are inches
measured by miles away
bulldozing oriental food
you don't intend on eating
around your plate
and i am imagining
the translation of asking
for a broom in a foreign language
for when you shatter over small talk
or the first sentence to start with "so"
breaks you into shaking
that i can feel from across the table
and i am thinking now
about tectonics and how you must be daydreaming of being submerged in a book
back home or gripping tightly
to bedsheets begging for familiar warmth
i can tell by the way you are looking at me
that you are feigning our salutation embrace
seconds drowned in ankle deep water and i wonder if you see my hands
as jackhammers and if the reason
why you hug so hard
but only for a moment
is to be as sharp as possible
so that i do not smell your perfume
or notice that you aren't wearing any and why
there are few suprises
in the safe you claim is a mouth
where shades of plush pink
hide a sickly pallor
and i continue to look over
brick & mortar borders
and think how maybe
she is thinking of kissing
but certainly not me
not these apologies nailed to my face
i give myself a moment
of benefitted doubt that you sometimes
picture your frame under mine
and if your clavicles would crack
if i were to touch them
i am sorry that i am a victim of imagination
but i swear i chalk it up
as the forgotten feeling
for when you look up
and the person you are looking
at is gazing directly at you
you have painted yourself
as a mosaic in my mind
as a mess of dust & incoherent words
that all sound like please in my ears
but that doesn't explain why
my hands are the ones that are shaking
when i imagine you
imagining me
in the spaces of yourself
where you've forgotten
you could put someone
No one even knows I exist.
Why do I bother with this?
I must have lost my mind.
Or perhaps purposely left it behind.
Regardless,
I can't feel.
I can't care.
I can't recall when last my puzzle was together.
Maybe never.
I lost the will.
I lost the strength.
My weary eyes,
want to shut,
I say "no."
They cry "but."
My wavered heart,
wants to open.
I say "no."
It starts moping.
I feel like I'm a *****-up.
I feel alone.
I guess, maybe I'm not, but I feel so on my own.
My music,
wants me to smile on the inside,
I say "no."
It says "It's alright."
I say "no."
It says "don't cry."
I say "I'll try."
But the unavoidable passes my by.
I try.
I try not to die.
To stay alive.
To stay away from the darker side.
But I rarely cry.
I always sigh.
I'm losing my touch.
I'm saying goodbye.
I'm climbing the window sill.
Hear my last hymn.
I must bid everyone adieu,
and fall out of my skin.
The old year draws to a close, a new year is about to begin, what does the future hold? More death destruction and sin.

Can we improve this sad mad world where the bomb and bullet are god?
Where mans inhumanity rules in the search for a political hold.

What does it matter, the death of a child. The grief of parents and friends.
It matters not for the death of a child can be used for political gains

Mans intent to destroy this once beautiful world, pollution of water and land.
Where will it end, what can we do? To halt the rot that descends.

We just sit back. " It wont happen to me" Well sorry thats not the case.
Tomorrow it could be you or me.

The white gold of drugs being sold to our kids, now they are starting so young,
lining the pockets of evil.
What will the new year bring?
Written at Christmas 2012
Dark floats out into the silence
Crashing on the banks of Prometheus's wings
Opening a velvet-silk curtain.
To a fabric of shadowed stars
Cloudy fingers sew it clean
While invisible hands stitch pearls back in.
A ghost flits on the hallway stair
Reaching for the last shafts of sun
Tumbling off a silent dream
Blind as black with a lullaby hum
Filling the gaps in an empty line
Somewhere between dusk and dawn.
Just a little thing from 2-3 years ago, since I only have my phone on me at the moment. Based on Romeo and Juliet
These Lines:
etched and edged,
well-distinct and ill-defining,
clarifying and disguising,
multifarious characters,
multivariate natures.
nefarious and courageous.

thickened thinnings,
straightforward curvings,
appointed and unanointed,
given, taken, and then
redrawn, misshapen.

both boundary and limitations,
goal reached, unending destinations,
a human's realm of indefinite definitions,
These Lines:
mappings of his domain,
recordings of his failings.

my great divide,
testimonies to my endings,
visual markers of
virtuous past successes,
virtual future failures invadings.

How can they be both simultaneous?

These Lines:
double etched and sword edged,
outbound-triumphant, defending,
inbound-plaintive, wailing,
both an indefensible and defensive blade,
cutting, both ways.

*PostScript:
The twenty eight of the month of Feb-rue-ary,
clear enough ending to the muddiest, contrary,
turgid month of the ifs of a man's life.
4:30am on that day, the tastings of my archaic bourn
he interrupted me
in the middle of
an earth shatteringly
pointless story
to tell me i had
a cute laugh,
in a smoke-filled
garage infront of
all of our friends.
i said,
"alright dude
*******"


that night
i slept in the fetal
position with four blankets
and craved his skin so
bad i didn't even notice
that i bit my lip
until the pool of blood
collecting inside the deep ditch
of my gums, began to taste
of hot metal

today he texted me
while i was at work
and asked if he could
bring me a coffee
i looked at myself
in the bathroom mirror,
sighed and told him
we were busy
then i bought a
coffee for myself,
let the bitter sweet
warm liquid
linger on my tongue
and pretended
it was his lips

alone is a state of being
and i have never been alone,
lonely is a state of mind
and i have never been anything but
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