the feeling passes
through inhaling gases

you're a chalked up lamb.

you talked me up
about him
          ham
          have
          some
           hands.
a             handsome
                              man
said something about the weather
and agreed with a nod of the head.
sure this lady was talking, but he knew she was dead.

ghosts sound appealing,
moving through the sheets,
they're under them and you're under you
falling through from raising others.

religion smashing fingers
you are
the single piece of toast
I ate for breakfast this morning.

emotional substance spread over me
and silence poured me another drink.
down we go, and I go down.

confusion constellation contemplation
trying to connect the dots between seeing you
and not wanting to see you, but not wanting to be
alone.

are you having fun yet?

you've peaked
and my interest is fleeting
pop
the helium balloon explodes
and my voice loses volume.
impact upon giving time
wasting time thinking
that this place is too quiet
for my thoughts to process
and translate them the way
I want to.
bathing and waiting
building my own gates
to make sure I'll remember how I got in
and how to get back out.

standing on the edge of a bridge
meet me before I jump.

I've got to get out of this apartment.
the carpet is too clean, I have to take off my shoes.

company? nope.

I'll drowned out the music
with fingers in my ears
head under water, trying not to float.

grass stains
I need to run away.

contact? nope.

trip me up,
cut me loose,
keep me cute.

mmmm.

all I need to say.

mmmm.

friends sing so sweetly
and I fall in love with the serenade.
it's m
i     s  
l    e   a  
ding
if you act before you think
and then spend all your time thinking about which move to make next.

I think progress starts at two points:
the beginning and the ending.
everything and nothing.

One thing to make me feel something
and another to destroy me.

I've given up on trying to be friendly
and gone straight for that same bitter harsh of honesty
that
got
me
in so much trouble before
that I forgot existed
because I let myself slip
rather than pushing out
what I knew wasn't good for me.

wanting to please everyone.
loving the pleasure in pain,
got lost in it, got distracted,
became detached in the same direction more than once
and became less than I should
                  more than I should.

it's a swallowing of seeds without chewing.
with all this stimulation brewing
around the stitching of my pocket,
crooked lines, a few things slipped out.

marbles in the kitchen, in the bathroom,
on the floor. you carried me up
and down stairs.
cried
when
I
loved
you
and
screamed
when
I
stopped.

But you didn't stop ramming
jamming
jerking
thinking
sneezing
wheezing
leaving
thoughts
behind.

Hel­ping remove your mind
I tried to look inside.
Your ego ****** you into
a black hole of questioning.
Left me answering
that there was nothing left of me.
Found myself in the absence
of bored and forgetful silence.

The ending
is the beginning
for me.

right now
it's all finally happening
right now
the moment's been festering

I've finally finished and I'm free.

I'm an unthinkable mess
stuck in a wreck

explaining myself until my throat goes numb.

I was a dull flame flickering out
and you were a ball of rage, faster
burning, striking with liking me
too much too close to the skin
and you were underneath in those
parts I didn't dare share, and once I did
over and over and
again
i wanted to stop after so long of the ripping
and putting back together
and ripping
and repairing
and ripping.
taking the time to look at the picture,
I found it was so torn that there was nothing left.

so to create a new one
I destroyed the old.
your death grip is no hold.

"Don't think about me."

my ears are burning.

reaching out
pulling back
the withdrawal is another opening
a hole
a pocket
what's the difference?

a million openings
falling through
your time
frame
and
to my
pleasure
or luck
of goodness
I find you beside me.

brilliance has judgment
unsure of what's too far.
must slow
to a crawl
push your nose
to the ground
close your eyes
drop your limbs
eat cement.

it's early
my voice is harsh
the words come
easier than you do
but there is much
more venom
than that of a
snake.

you're a pearl in
my food
seeping through
my skin
you've brightened my day
all crimson in ways more than natural
and I try not to pay attention to the thoughts that
come without warning, without real meaning,
just striking with sharp teeth
the people that I love, it's always harder when you don't realize you're doing it.
instinct.
thrashing.
inside.
my.
veins.

I'll dance faster
shed some weight
remove myself
return myself
recycle myself
and weigh my actions
through heavy stones
and heavy lids
impossible to lift.

like butterfly caskets
or thin skin you clung
across when you saw how
fast it was expanding,
hide your fear
and they wont look for you
hide your beauty
and they wont look at you
just be you
and you'll be the one looking
because the hunt is far better
than being the prey.

to be the prey is a lamb's chase
and just in case you forget to
bring rope, I've got some tangles
you can hold onto. my heart veins,
they're solid and flowing with the stimulation
of snow.
white,
cold and fresh.
soft,
mold-able.
flesh,
I can't control myself.
warmth,
I'm buried, you're a carrier of shovels,
you dig me big
holes. put
yourself
in them.

feel the exasperation  of waking up
waking upwakingup waking
up but you're falling, up,
waking, up, and you're hallucinating
because your REM is still rolling, and
you're waking, just
waiting to release, to release,
to release
release.

you're in my heart
over the phone
trying to find ways
not to be alone
yet your tone has me ringing
and I want to take back what I said
because I don't know what the words I say are really meaning.

you've paid for me
no attention
simply pocket change
limitations.

not every word that breathes through me is recent,
or so much relevant as lessons.
some insights bury themselves, but I'm digging through what feels like sand.
I find it's better to live
and enjoy.
wait for the rain, and the drought, and the dry cracked peeling
to reveal what takes a second look, because one is not enough,
and if you only read it once, it wont carve into your skin,
you've got to scratch with the same tone as fluid movement
to understand the unbreakable stare of closeness that our flesh takes.

perception shift
a swift lift into another dimension.
tangled vines, chord, cord, record each step
to a picnic in the mountains.
the back of this van feels much larger
than my bladder, and my grip on what to say
removed everything I wanted to complain,
this liquid is a drain.

my record at paying attention
is unusually retreating this evening.
lack of thoughts spilled out all over your kitchen floor.
hidden shame in the cheeks of a burning face,
pounding heart faster than pounding drums
so I stick to a hum and try not to walk on the carpet.

trying to be careful
while trying not to care at all

hair drips over me like rain
open the windows and fall asleep with socks on
avoid the pain, of a twisted neck from where you slept.
wake up
I hear you singing
and smile
and laugh
and mash into the pillows beneath my comforter.
       give me something to dance to!
I'm alone and the dresser seems friendly,
still I take the weekends off for the presidents
some say sleeping on sunday is a sign of respect for religion
really ringing in rear-back
bare back
roads, and hills
of skin and bones
that stab you and grab you
goodnight!
                  it's raining.
don't you dare shut the window.
          I double dare you, don't want to share you,
but I will. the old shackles were beaten with brand new keys.
it'd be good to know a lock smith in times like these.

treat me like an Emergency Exit Only sign
good morning is a warning, you must be awake
standing on a rock at the library
we trick ourselves into good times
and
words
look
beautiful
when
they're
alone
         and
         so
         do
         people.
I'm    alone, but I don't feel beautiful
                           and I don't feel ugly,
happy to be alive. Ready to explode
around
you.
       Anxiously waiting, accepting
                                      rejection:
oddities, such as leaking,
                                 are unavoidable. and
you
will
try
to make faces and *** calls.
    I'm no longer on the end to
pick
up. I'm
           dropped off, not waiting:
                                moving forward.
smiling.

intriguing, yes.
fleeting, yes.
waving hello like a helium balloon taped to a mail box.
flap
     flap
smack!

"Share your body, spread your love."

stumbling while leaning against a wall
your eyes are wider than when we kissed
and it felt worse than saying goodbye,
more than anything
wanting to forget how good it feels
to hold each other
                                                           you push me away.

kiss me, I whine.
your tongue tastes like peppermint slime
oozing words that avoid the intended conclusions of your premises
broken promises   [unspoken, I'm choking].

I'll **** you out before breakfast.

I'm a baby, much older, much younger.
I'll cry myself to sleep.

another one!
another one!
another one?
YES!

these are the days that remind me of you
look where we are! standing right in front of each other
wondering if it'll ever be enough, I want it to be.

pink background that turns my eyes black, shows my skin
how to shrink close to my bones, shows my insides how to
expand and layer and peel, repeate old habits, accept all.
Say, Yes! yes always to all ways because the barriers of love
are insecurities easily torn down in the moments before sleep
and release.

I'll let you go, watch you sink
ring myself out, bring my concentration out in a wet handful of your saliva
stick my tongue out for you to catch, flap it around in a white line of purity
based around my neck: inhalations!

destruction of self-pity
here we go again!
here we go for the first time: together.
bunches of banana colored lace
you're tangled
           so cute
                       it's stupid.

cracking my knuckles in anticipation
I want to make love in the streets
make love to myself, and make love
to people I don't know.

silence and reading
and testing and cheating
my vocabulary is reaching out across the dinner table
looking for something your laughter will reply to.

all my portals are open in your innocence
and removing age, removing space
some one who feels horrible for ignorance: silence
I'll fill those holes, create my own
so you're not alone.
problemsproblemsprob
lemsproblemspro
blemsproblem
s. blemishes,
redish and sore
soarsoresoar
so
our
truths
revealed
with the lights off
and the moon brighter than the sun
and not at all blinding, I'm howling and
you're glowing and what I would give to
have that tug kiss jump pull run and hide.

Stagnant.
Screaming in wet clothes
from the sprinklers in the ground
to the water that sprays on the windows
while you spray inside of them and create
what you'd destroy if you knew it existed.

With a laugh like Santa Claus I keep each day same as Christmas,
**** your blessings and your gifts,
I'll keep them in the same closet I kept myself.

Most of the good stuff is gone
but some of it stayed. Laughing for
one more day, tearing at the facts.
Too much all at once, I'm slower because
I know her. She's much too beautiful.

Empty and overflowing
all this patience is unknowing.

The faces you make when you create,
looks like pain, silk burning,
holding in what will **** you,
(anyone can-             fill you),
but sometimes it's better to fill yourself
when you're ready to explode.

Everyone goes alone, but you're smiling about it,
and I'm smiling too, and holding onto memories,
letting go of explanations and descriptions, all read
brick and brown brick tipping over in the wind.
Snow storms calling on your birthday, lets sit in warm puddles
and eat pie.

Did you see her cry? I think I've made a breakthrough
with my speech. Speaking clearly: it's so nice to see you.
Almost nice to see people I don't like
because I've stopped giving a ****.

I didn't see her cry, but she was eaten first.

Felt myself at the pinnacle of what rage
used to be. We call it making love,
but I feel like you're just waiting to die.

Can't keep you happy for long,
just entertaining myself while you wallow,
it's hard to swallow, because I can't seem to turn you on.

I'm useless.

--something about “this is what love feels like”
-- or “this is how love is supposed to feel”
questions; “how do you feel?” and nothing but silence.
cold and old
growing
frozen toes
warm water, you and me, can't wait
always wet, drying
slowly in the night
mildew grows
and we mold more than the
cracks between my bed and the wall.

Talking to you is a cuddle puddle,
a misgiving kiss, a hit hit triple miss
apology, I can't tell you what I think
because they're awful things. And when I say
things so sweet
I feel like you're falling out of love with me.
I'm a vulnerable mess stuck in a guess
and I guess and guess wrong
-there's that word again
wrrrr were brrrr buuurrrrr
your skin is ice, so nice
mine is tucked and full of rice
nothing else but kitchen help
you hold me from behind
won't look me in the eye
thinking of someone else.

Nothing's wrong
(get over it).

I'm checking myself out
like in a grocery store
for the panicked and
newly born, freshly torn
lovers that still don't know much
about each other.

A few conversations held close to heart
easily dissected, something to relate to
when you're feeling lonely, or just drunk
nauseous, leaving early because it's too much
for beginners to start with.
And if you're just beginning
then you better start
learning how to learn.

black coffee walks alone
closed eyes, avoiding signs
holding love in back pockets
cracking open pens, drink ink
blink: sunlight! it's blinding,
and alright, but I much perfer
darkness.
                so many calls that make me
feel small. I don't know what to say,
so I hang up, and hang myself in the
backyard to dry, afraid you might catch
my scent, and run away.
                                        you taste like
flowers, feel the way my lungs do when
it's hard to breathe, feel the way my ears
do when I struggle to hear the mumbled
mess of what you wouldn't dare say straight
forward.
              I saw you coming, felt you coming,
lost you, lost myself, removed the sheets,
found someone else. To remove myself,
you hoped, I hope it helped.
                                             bagged in plastic
styrafoam cups, luke warm, but you're warmer.
a charmer, heart farmer.
                                        Welcome home, please
make sure if you leave, it's somewhere better.

i want to wake up early tomorrow
put your hands into my bag
watch your eyes
rub your tears off
                          onto my cheek
i love you
but we spend too much time together
i feel like you have something to say
but it'll take a little longer


oh god, i hope i wake up early tomorrow.

noiseless surprises.
I was laughing by myself
right in front of you.

how have I become so alone?

slip tip drip
you make me feel
wrong for being sweet
like I'm too much
and not enough
at the same time.

The best burn I've ever felt
came from a small reflection
tucked away, strong,
removed from temptation.

Share your selection: perception.

Something about this weather makes me sick,
and cuddly. All I want these days is to be alone,
with a body, and nobody, and something to help
me forget a few things: less personal.

Moving around, faster, each by three.
So in love with this moment, I start to catch on fire,
a page full of ****, and forget me please.
You tasted better in the morning, I hope I did too.

Contamination through determination.
We're going back in time for the last time,
it's the beginning of moving forward.
What haunts us haunts us only in subconscious,
so we lay on the floor, curl in the kitchen,
inhale: new decisions.

Getting on tracks, hearing about the ones that got loose,
and the ones that go too close
avoiding getting ran over,
running over,
rereading
listening
listening
listening
I can hear you listening in the silence you create:
thank you!

This progress is beating it's way inside
of us, the way we beat into each other.

Um, um um um uhhhh Ah cha rah cha cha cha
I love you,
and I'm not going to say it more
than I feel it
and I feel it, oh honey, it's coming
faster than I do on the weekends.

Sttttrrrreeeeetttcccchhhhhhhhhhhh
rip feathers, wash away the leathers.
Last nights reminder sent me shivering
shocked.

Your voice is changing,
there's more than one
and you can talk about her as much as you want,
'cause I spend most my day doing the same thing's
inside as you do outside, just we do everything at the
same time, so there's no need for questions, because
everything's an answer.

Answering yes.
Yes yes yes yes yes
yes yes yes
y e s
  y  eeee sssss
ssss
ssssss
eyy yeeuh yes
yesh.


I've always liked the shape of a woman,
long hair pulled back.
It makes sense.
Since when?
“I just woke up and you're already attacking me,
all I want to do is just go to sleep.”
     you told me when I write,
and I proved you                     wrong.
Proved myself                         wrong.

Wrong is a word said quickly and distorted at the same pace,
it's manifest destiny in the form of emotions in motion.

Wrongwrongwrong
wrungwrungwrung
riiiing riiiing riiing-
don't answer that!

fire fighting &
             I can't stop
                                laughing.
and can't stop tackling
and can't stop being    quite
******
and I can't stop being  quiet.

thrombotic
lobotomy
you are
on top
of me.
     and I'm losing my breath
and I'm holding my breath
and I'm going under
and I'm going to cry
and now it's all over
and I wonder
                       if I ever really had it in the first place.
right before then, I knee you in the face.
he just doesn't listen
cause she can't think
can't speakkkkkk
it's a double lip kiss to the sky,
marveling at the light
                          darkness
                           brings
I'm spreading my wings.
in steps to your house
in steps to your heart
in jumping in pumping
in moving behind.
I'm calling you mine.
I'm rolling over your body,
I can hear you breathing'
I mistook your calm for dreaming
but when I called your name you weren't sleeping
you opened your eyes
                     and you said
"you're a beautiful heathen."
I still am.
I am infinity
standing up straight.
by all means believe what you want to believe
I think you might be in love with me.
sometime's I eat flour, it feels good in my throat
dry like a pastry, it's a coat throat choke, sometime's sweet
but that's just me.
don't know how                I feel
sometime's don't know
                                                     how to feel
                                           at all.

I'm king today, but every other day I'm
Not The King.
On the days that I feel dead,
I'm God
with your face on my face.

you're love sick
I'm sick of love
forget about it
write home
tell me later.

Here's something to impress you
it's my heart wide open, curious, fearless
approach me, remove the flowers from my hair
take them home and wait for them to die
then tell me about the thoughts that possessed you
in the moments you tried to cry, but couldn't.

There's always something eating away at you, isn't there?
Keep scribbling, croak louder! Wake the town, bring me down.
Take me take me take me down! Build the wall of silence just a little thicker
I want to be sure I'm not nervous, I want to release all solidity and flow
through you as liquid, as sunlight, as starlight as wishes as glances you cast me
that I wasn't supposed to notice, (but did).

I love you is a funny way of starting a sentence,
a sentence is just something we use to get through the day.
****** up communication building blocks burying me deeper
than I can climb and they're crumbling like your emotions when you've
got hallucinations spreading in your spine, breaking you down, back broke,
stomach chalk throat choke nose coke short ****, inhale me like you do your smoke.
I taste the same I taste the same.

Yes yes yes yes yes I forgive you, I forgive myself
self-love self-help self-yelp
telepathy wavves like fog in a graveyard
retracing your steps because everything's changing
and you're burning wood
cast your fires on me, I'll be your shallow shadow
and I'll guide myself as far as you'll let me,
don't drag me down
just take me there.
Quickly, before before before.

I start to miss you and I think
I'm just recycling my gatsby complex into something more tangible
than tangerines in the middle of winter
or a wind storm,
trying to eat when there's a lack of corn,
and you can't digest it anyways.

you don't
belong in this
wagon
this wagon
doesn't even exist.

I'm memorizing you in ways like cutting with knives
and thinking about listening but then getting distracted.

Re-birthing in the direction of “i thought you might”
dying downwards and backwards and all the ways you've seen me
because that's what I do when you see me. I die.
It feels better than being alive so **** me killmekillmekillme.

There! Right THERE! That's the separation.

hello hello hello
--and who, are you?
you make me feel so good
when you walk into the room.

candy bars, crashing into grave yards
stealing cars, driving to the sounds you made
I make new ones.

and you, you you you you
I miss your face when it's right in front of me
and you kiss me and I laugh and it's warm
(too warm to breathe).

I've hit the wall
and now I'm
sliding
         down it
laying on the ground
reaching my arms up
grabbing hold, pulling
sitting on the top
looking over, skrim skim skimmly skimmeddd
scanning the crowds, but you're out of town
so I push some buttons
and sew some buttons
pet kittens
I'm smitten, keep hittin'
                                        ta ta turn to face me
"do you forgive me?" "Yes." RUN AWAY!!!

...time by yourself with bruises you can't explain,
are your ribs breaking? stop, don't stop!

you're ridiculous, hilarious. I can smell your alcohol from three feet
away. I'm too high to tell you. Looking out the window's nice.
                                                 I've just met you this noon and I'm already
eating more plate fulls of food than mouthfulls of words but if I did speak I wouldn't say
anything worth being heard, because I'm tired,
         still trying to remember last night.

this morning is so dark, maybe I'll go for a walk.
nothing's open on holiday's.

shaking your hand like it's the first time I'm meeting you
and every piece of me feels like cement, frozen and heavy.
my arms find their way around your shaking frame, if you were a wind storm
then maybe you could fly away,
but you just look at me from the corner of your eye,
thinking so loud
you're afraid
I might catch
what you mean

what do you mean?
the silence
you stress
between your fingers makes me want to open my mouth
and sing.
already I can feel you
coming in and out
in and out
and out and out and out
and in
and out of my mind
my imagination.

gaining a loss, the loss is a gain
because of what you use to fill the empty space that remains
we're destroying our brains
no no no no no no
we're expanding Out out out more and more and more
more give me
less than you give yourself
you deserve
more than flowers deserve crowns
and kings deserve flowers.
I want
to                  make
             you
smile.

i cry about you sometimes but im never gonna tell you.
i don't try and hide the tears: no one notices.
try and be a little more polite, look at yourself and let the beauty you reflect absorb, rather than bounce off.
get off get up get on get in get OFF get UP get ON get IN
gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme your heart
lemme lemme lemme lemme give you mine

she thought you were desperate
but she was too needy, and she left you greedy
but the wounds that are bleeding teach us how to feel.
You drop on one knee in front of him, hoping that he'll
put his hand on the other one to tell you: everything's going to be okay.
she felt so much but it's all lost.
I'm an upsidedown cross
     trying to forgive you.

your friends can see themselves in you.
acoustic verses make me want to puke.
hearing them
in a fraction of exactly what    
                                               you said to me. It looks like
procrastination
in it's finest form.

I hold you in my mouth
you're my last bite of toast
MUSHMUSHMUSHMUSH
your tongue softens me
and I am
MUSHMUSHMUSHMUSHMUSH.

say my name
right as you're leaving
tell me that you love me when I can't see your face
ask me to exist in more than one place
I can do it.

I can love you with my fingers wrapped
around your rib cage,
sweetness
I feel you
in the nine year
burnt fabric of this hammock.

I exist too much for you
don't bother.

back to basics
and your back
up against mine.

your jelly belly
baby beans
are weighing me down
and cutting through all          need to be closer
       I claim myself a true provider of nonsense
lay on the floor
stretch out (knock over a cup of coffee and push my cat into
                             the heating iron, saying sorry because I'm trying harder to be polite)
and wonder who else is alive.

somethingtomakemedisappear
to
make
me
disappear.
if you're pregnant: shoot yourself.
              hoping: tell God to stop looking in the mirror
for the answers.
I know, that if you cut from the top of the skull
             and ***** left, you'll see clearly what you hide from
and whatever it was you called your reflection: will lose it's meaning faster than

saying goodbye.
                                                  "but I've just met you"
"he jumped in front of the train for her"                        "a last request"
       STOP LOOKING AT ME.                   "he's dead" "he's dead" "he's dead" ...in your eyes
in your eyes in your eyes in your eyes in your eyes in your eyes
stop changing color                  listenlistenlistenLISTENlistenlisten
can you hear yourself thinking? quick, write it down if it's important.
think more.         read it until you've got it memorized and then take off your clothes
stare: this is your body, this is your sweat, those are your bruises: take pictures
take pictures of moments to make those moments last, be happy because you're young
be still. BE still. "I'll hold your arms down"
"it was awful, I couldn't move"           "I don't care what you think about me, I just want you to know that"
unfinished, interupted, slow motion sentences that stick in your hair like honey
and your upper lip lifted when you said it.
                               and you said it, you said it, you said it


and I didn't believe a word.
                                            Say it again because I missed it.
say it again, you're so quiet.
you ******!
                 come closer.
you spirit, stop spitting, I know what it feels like:

                      and if you can relate, it's no excuse for the things you do yourself.

we want to be forgiven
      we want to be special
            we want to be fearless
we: is a loose term
             loose change
and as heavy as cat fights.
I saw you today. All I could do was hope
         that you would skin your knees.
walking home: I made sure to keep my eyes open.

turning
into
the true face                          of surrender
one more week
                          and I'll be home tomorrow.
I've forgotten what it feels like                    to be held
sleeping in tangles of sounds
                                             like chips crunching
like papers being crumbled and thrown
                 like the fear that erputed when I threw your words away.
whatever's torn is torn
me from you
and flavor.                 No, I have not forgotten your favorite things,
or the way you reach for me in sleep.

temptation. desire. temptation. retire.

look forward: I'm barely standing.

breath caught stomach knot last thought of
last words of what's worth of what.
of what?

I know you hate me. hate me.
"hate me!"

it's a religion to breathe in

her words (like honey in my mouth).
"I cry because I love her." and she cries too.
and he shy's away. and he hides his face.

there are storms on every side of you
and wars in each moment
                                        you ignore them:
in trying to find the light, your burns shown through: with worries about
nothing to start with                   and                            nothing to end with.

blackberry blackout.
                                   there's only room for two
                                   inside the better half of what's left.
break downs on blacktops.
                       she held together what she saw falling apart
                       taking pity on the fool.
bringing blades to dinner parties.
       search the medicine cabinets: they're rich.
we're not supposed to be listening
or hearing
or wearing
                  all these secrets in the open
stop
pointing out the stains on my shirt: they don't mean a thing.

As time goes by I will only love you more
and more
(this is a water-based reflection: touch it with both hands, and feet.
  hell, stick your head under and feel yourself sink).
As time goes by
I will only miss you more
            
and more.
       shares: of silly strings
of silly things like... losing your marbles!
right before the most important moment of your (teenage) life.

shape me like you did yourself
                 teach me to read before breakfast
it's your morning, it's your moment
reach for it (you don't have to).

it's easy to get caught in a moment:
so *******.

I will be recording human interaction
with an open mind and a type writer.
First,
         I'll write it down in pen
         like we used to when we were kids
and didn't have our own computer (yet),
         or using your mothers to play video games
when you were supposed to be doing your homework.
         somehow achieving straight A's just in time for
                                                                                        christmas:
                                                                                         I watched you
shoot yourself in the foot
with talking to me                                                         (under black lights)
with the same: some-don't-understand-me look on your face,
with eyes that scream  
(just like all the others)     "Pity me."                              
                                           "Forget about me."
                                                   "Just hold me one more time
so I can remember what true love feels like."

on another note: is it wrong that I daydream about us robbing banks together?

I see clearly what you hide from.
give me danger give me comfort
give me something to hold onto when your words lose meaning
                                                   and when you don't want to call
or when the ground glows yellow in the late evening sun.
"stop kissing your cousin"
"stop pretending like you know how to exist"
                                                          ­            I'm smiling.
you're probably watching television.

barely a hand dipped into conversation and you're already questioning our friendship.
I know you like I know beauty, and smoke, entering your mouth from mine, reaching out like arms:
we held each other in older ways than we knew how.
                                                                ­                    (it came naturally).

I've passed good morning good afternoon and good evening
to meet you in the space between midnight
to meet you inside light                                to meet you for the first time as jesus
to try and forgive you for things I don't know about.

(I'd cut off your fingers if you asked me to, I'd cut out the jokes,
and I'd cut off my eyelashes,  I'd cut off  all my hair and
glue it to your face, your face) bursting out:
                                                            ­            Your Face.
it's the same as when we held hands in your fathers car
and when you pressed your lips on mine while you thought I was asleep
whispering: "I love you" as you backed away.
move closer. move away. move down the street. move out of state.

the coffee stand made me say "let's be friends"
and we were.
we were. we were. we were.


let's just say
(that)
                     I still owe people money.

you're the same as I remembered you:
                                                            ­ eyes like daggers
                                               swim towards my barefeet
it's almost summer again: it's too hot to hold you, or
                                                              ­         anyone.
sighs about tomorrow: "you're just going to fall asleep again."
I avoid the mess and go straight for the spill: lips. eyes. brain.
you're the lipstick on my coffee cup, the smell of smoke after a house burns down.
she screams about the horses, the costumes, the memories:
                                                       ­                                         I tell her to be quiet.
"just shut your mouth! just shut your god ****** mouth!" and again,
                                                                ­                              "you're hideous" in a different way.
the anger moistened breath (shouting)
released her from the frenzy of being herself.  
                                                      ­                   standing in front of you, arms shaved and knees lotioned:
"thank you", from the voice of insanity,
signed on the back of a handmade book
with your name on it.                                                          exit­: left ear right ear left ear right ear left here.
Words like ghosts      they go straight     through her.
lack of empathy lack of mourning lack of desire lack of satisfaction
it all goes down the drain: in this house
                                          (clogged with hair [it doesn't matter who's, so don't ask]).
the boredom cries out (again) with freedom
                                                         ­            and instead we call it "relaxation".
(things we think
but we never think)                                  
to say: I lost the meaning of vacation counting license plates on the way to Texas.
(would bring back more than just the dead)
it would bring us                     back to dead,
and death would say
(something ringing in our ears) that we understand.
              that we understand the things we want to,
whatever they may be,
and then maybe:                   in death
                               we can find peace.

I hold you         closer
                         (in thought). you're a dream (a memory).
alone: you are my bedroom criticism.
I hate: when you're afraid to kiss me
(with pickles on my breath) "I hate you"
you     in the same exhaustion
             as walking up stairs.  
give me confidence
give me pudding
             tell me secrets
             tell me lies
show me hunger
show me face (your face)
               buried under the sheets
               hidden in shadow, laying in snow.
vinegar's ringing. pick up.
                                      "I'm not good at this." (your shadow)
"It's morning, what are you planning to say?"  "Can we do this another time?"
                                      "I'm not good at this."
vinegar's tired.
                                            hang up.

I stared at you for hours                "I don't know what to say."
"you're beautiful when you                don't know what to say."
                                        "make me laugh."
the things you said: "please" "go to sleep"
                                                                ­  I'll tell you more tomorrow.

"I don't want you to love anyone else but me,"
Lips scabbing at the idea of saying out loud:
I write it down.
beauty
           the way your legs bleed when you shave
           and how young you are
                                                   when it's time to say sorry.
Madison Gregory, I waited for you.
you told me your name like you meant it
you told me your name because I told you mine
Madison Gregory, you don't exist.
                                                      I'm afraid because I talk to you
because I think of you
                                    killing me with thunder
                                    killing me with touch
stop me from being tender
stop me from being myself
you're so dark, your head turned away
backwards                                              you whisper
                                                         ­       and stutter
repeating the name your mother gave you
repeating: "Jesus" (about everything) "Jesus"
                    "I'm sorry" (about everything) "I'm sorry"                        
you look perfect. don't      
                              say sorry (about anything).
as your mother: I forgot about you when you went to school
                              but I still made dinner when you got home.

stretch out my arms
look back at my life:
mistake "I'm sorry"
scared "I don't love you"
death "yes please"
life "**** me now"

it's just a
phase. phase. phase. phase.

always:     the same.
                  changing.
a                   mess.

best friends become enemies when they know too much about you.

you're making me crazy without doing anything.
I wish you weren't. I wish we learnt
                                                         "how to learn?"
how to love how to breathe how to think
"it doesn't matter it doesn't matter it doesn't matter"

it should come naturally.
                                        it does come naturally.
stopthinkingyou'renotthinkingnowI'mthinking
but it's all about you. it's not about you.

forget the past like you'd commit suicide
                                                         ­       like you really meant it.
forgive the past like you'd be here tomorrow
                                                        ­        like you really meant it.
my face in front of your face
screaming everything I want to scream
without saying a thing.
my face looking forward
my voice shaking toward
                                           you.
I'mnotokayI'mnotokayI'mnotokay
"I forgive you" I'mnotokay
slam my head into the wall
"I forgive you" I'm not okay
rip my hair out
"I forgive you!" I'm not okay
                "you need therapy" I'm not okay
"you're not okay"

the room got heavy when I told you exactly how I felt about you.
I'm so glad I was alone. I'm so glad I'm alone.
"I feel so lonely"
                           "I can't take this"
the next morning: "[things you said that I won't repeat]"
"Are we friends?" TRUTH: ATTACKATTACKATTACKATTACK.

attack me again: it's my fault because I asked for it.
                           I still do.
too much fun. toomuchfun. STOP.
I'm bored.

boredom. consumption of boredom. consumption.

I feel you like
                        slamming
                                doors.
I see you in
                    the same
                                shifting focus as
when I take off my glasses
                  too quick.
I hold you like I make
fifty                               dollars
                  a week.
                                                          "I miss you"
I scream into my pillow.
                                            "I miss you too" you whisper back
        in prayers
in dreams
                   in your arms wrapped around me
as I cry into your neck.

I want you here: you
                            tell me: I'm beautiful.
these slow steps that I'm taking (toward you)
(away from you) I'm learning your name
easier than cleaning a fish bowl
harder than saying it out loud
easier than writing it down
harder than taking birth control
or wanting to,
because I'm not interested in ***
at this age:
in this age I'm younger than those actions
older than those thoughts,
lost in a limbo, found swinging from a bar,
skipping down a street, turning down what I can't see
"no thank you"

I can hear you.
                              "I'm listening"
     I can't hear you.
"you're screaming"

your face,
                 in the mirror: "you're beautiful"
your face,
                    in the street: "I'm disgusting"

sincerely,
                because I know you're quiet when you're unhappy
because you're trying to tie knots with broken fingers
          because your eyes reflect blue in the shadows of your smile
because you're more than any fabric, soaked in any chemical thought
                                                                                                                    (or feeling)
because the islands of you create an escape better than the moon.

Sincerely, because you're you.

dead to me
dead to you.
I know you like the inside of my socks,
you know me like the wrinkles in your skin.

"do you mind if I bleed for a little while?"

I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck
dance when you told me you were sorry.

"I'm going to try and take you home."

news papers:
you were late again.
the cat was late
the milk was warm
I was asleep.
you put lotion on your hands
you made me sweat.

the day after you told my secrets
your eyelashes fell out.
hearts can only pump so much blood:
mine wont waste it's time speeding for you.

"I've never told anyone that before."
    "It's not special any more."
"what's special?"       "does it matter?"
             "did it ever matter?"
"It was nice to see you today."
        "I have to go."         "one more cup?"
"that's two."     "that's three."  
"hold this cigarette."   "no."    "you don't have to smoke it."
    "neither do you."   another: "can I join?"

inside: warmth.
            my friends.
                                              outside: the smell of anxiety.
                                                                ­  last nights rain.

"I'm glad we decided to come."
                                                    "I'm glad we decided to leave."
        "agreed."

dead skin flaking off
the neighbors are fighting again
I can't hear what they're saying
beneath the music I listen to
feeling the chant of addiction
like loops like fruit
like an animal
killing another animal.
or a woman, waiting to hear the
                                                      opening
of a door:
walking out.

the lights are off
"it's because they're broken"
                                             you say
"they're not"

wrapped up
                     in blankets
in sheets                            in water

cut off my arms
                  my legs
and watch me swim.

avoiding: love.
or the pains of being in love
when there's indecision,
when I needed there not to be,
when it was coming from both ends.

my tears were like  
stepping stones
(a path you've avoided:
because it hurts too much
to feel, or it's easier to pretend
like those feelings
don't exist).
the fear and hesitation
of letting someone else
see
the steps you've taken,
and not
wanting to explain
how they led you to where you are
because it's hard to tell the truth
when you've been lying:
to everyone.

Without realizing it
half of the time,
and then the other half
I just lay in bed worrying about it,
or what other people think.

The thoughts led me to the point
where I couldn't leave my house,
or my room, or my bed.
The depression made me sick
and I didn't know how to deal with it
in any other way than letting it consume,
[like always]
because I was so obsessed with feeling
as much as I could, as intensely as possible.
I just didn't realize how self-destructive it was
because of the people I surrounded myself with
and the people that I wanted to, but didn't.

New Years: I decided not to make any resolutions.
Commitment still isn't my strong point, but I'm working on it.

I didn't treat those days like they were important,
and they weren't:
at the time.

I sought irrelevancy,
and silence,
and thought
and lack: of feeling, of thought, of silence.
Everything in my mind soon became contradiction
and it didn't take long for me to turn into the person
I feared most to become,
and even after I destroyed the image of it all,
it still existed in memory.

back to relevancy.

It's not about the timing.
It's all about the timing.

it's the situation:
the lack of feeling?
the lack of wanting.
the lack of empathy?
the lack of interest.
the lack of mystery?
the lack of understanding.

want is no way to love.
*** is no way to love.
drugs are no way to escape
(they just made me crazy)
crazy?
with thoughts of you,
with trying to forget about you
with trying to please everyone
with... everything.

I was afraid, so I tried my hand at avoiding:

conversation.
   (there was too much hurt coming from my end
to yours. I couldn't move on, because I loved you,
but I couldn't love you, because I couldn't love myself,
[or anyone else]. The idea of love grew too big,
    [in my mind] [in my pen] [in my journal] [in my life]
[the air around us] [the color of your eyes] [in memory]
[in the amount of time spent worrying about the possibilities
  of things that could go wrong]).

confrontation.
   (The only way I knew how to say sorry was to hold you,
and holding can mean too many different things and physical
translation has never been my strong point).

truth.
(with lies)
                (with truth)
(with secrets)
      (with whatever seemed to work at the time).


making changes
instead of planning changes.

I've said sorry too many times for the wrong reasons,
and not enough for the right ones.

I'm just glad to be myself again.

I whistle when I blow on my tea
and drink cofee when I can't go to sleep.

I call and leave you messages:
that make me feel like I'm trying too hard,
(or not enough, or like I don't know how,
because I'm not sure what I want)
because I forget what I want to say
when I think about:

your smile
(what makes you smile?)

your blue eyes
(I'm so sick of hiding behind mine,
and I'm ready to see my reflection
and your reflection, in the same frame.
In nothing,[we say nothing], because it means nothing:
unless we want it to.)

your shaking hands
("I know I can do this."
"I know you can do this.")

your silence
(both bathing, both nervous,
both nothing. Because I can't speak for you.
I have trouble speaking to you.)


how's this [?] for,
I'm here.
I don't understand, but I want to.
I'm sorry.

- - - - - - - - - - - -
I haven't been myself for a long time,
but
I'm changing
and
my feelings are
too.

you've been in my dreams for longer than I'd like to admit
[I would if you asked me].
I'm ready to spill some secrets of my own
[because secrets have never been my strong point,
but honesty has, and that's what you deserve].

- - - - - - -
across the table conversation:
"it doesn't matter how many people read your poetry..."
                     "as long as it's written."

the question game: the life game: the experience: the answers.

after thoughts:
'but does it matter if the person you wrote it for
does?"

performing advances
beneath my eyelids,
hoping you appear
when they open.

descriptions:

nervous butterflies
hiding in the pit
of a beautiful girl,
she's tired,
stayed up past midnight,
and she can't
go back to sleep.

"Good night"
(not until tomorrow morning)

whispers: "good morning" "good morning" "good morning"

time for toast, and showers, and directions home.

CRASHES, in the kitchen: the freeway.

because it's our house and we can do what we want to:
1. 2. 3. cups of coffee.

I write what I want to say to you:
feels boring.
feels exciting.
feels
         familiar.

Conversation boiling down to,
you,
(disappearing),
and
me
(passing out to loud noise
and bright lights).

I like the way it sounds
when we're all bundled close,
looking over each others bodies
as if they were our own.

Wednesday's tomorrow,
I've already gained 5lbs thinking about it.
I wonder what you'll say,
and if I'll have enough breath to respond.

This animal is eating its way
outside of me, and when it does get out,
it's headed straight toward you.

wondering what to do:
he broke my focus like a bone.

I wonder who I am,
who I'm becoming,
and how I used to be.

I thought I was just like him
but some lovers don't know how to stop.

I'm learning:

beginnings:
your name [here]
your pen [in my pocket]

endings:
the word God melts like a spoon
in my hands,
my hands? hotter than the flames of hell.
Suicide:
not mine. I  swear [this time].
this time we're talking about you.
I know you got tired of listening to the other things,
but here's me stripping it all away.
I can only hope you can hear me,
because I'm screaming so loud you could be my mother.

My heart is beating faster than these keys and
you are the power behind the beatings. .

I pull my hair out
I punch my legs
I teach myself how to scream
and think, "calm down. this isn't you."

how long have you been inside?
because I'm just now noticing you.

a romantic without love
is a pile of empty letters
strung together into hesitant conversation.

I see you now in memories:
you and I, half-asleep,
avoiding eye contact,
over coffee
and cigarettes.

here's the truth:
the parts I imagine
and the one's that I want to feel:
(all I want to do is feed you peaches
and tell you how beautiful you are).

I love you.
                    Say it more:  You're amazing.

"Look at all the pages you're using."

"You can cry if you need to."

approaching the end of slavery:
these moments are defining.

Therapy: and the way you explain things.
(you're different)
   ("PROVE IT!").

there are too many people coming in and out of these rooms.


empty spaces?

I'm here to fill you up.

            (if you let me)
(if you want me)

I love the idea of being with you.

where have these beautiful situations gone to?
(we never realized how much control we had).

I can't write about the shadows if I'm fighting them.

These sentences seem to drag out
grow and curl
(like finger nails)
  (like hair).

Happiness can be
more beautiful than sadness,
but depression is where some of us belong.

I want to see you in this morphed place:
you light fires so well.
Hold me so that I might feel
the words that you're trying to say,
that are so hard to find.

I'll share mine if you share your strings.

There are pieces of your loss.
Some: I want to strangle.
Others: I want to kiss away.

If you need to bleed,
do it on me.
I'll even lick it off.

I'm trying to be what you need
and
I don't even know you.

the stars disappear
in the summer.

cynical.

I woke up earlier than ever
day before last.

I wanted to see you again,
but I knew that I had no idea what
I would say if I did.

Nothing.
as always.

chugging old coffee
while counting pills on a ***** carpet.

wanting nothing more than
to get to know you better.

she's choking in the background.
I drowned her.

echoes in the toilet.
sounds painful.
If she had a heart, she'd have puked it out by now.

I would give her mine for dinner if I could stay alive long enough to see if her eyes would say anything as she ate.

down the pipes:
dinner. lunch. breakfast.
expired milk.
stolen pills.
something fattening.

"has she been sleeping all day again?"
"yep."
"can I have some of those?"
"yep."
"can I go smoke with you?"
"yep."

She screams in perfect paragraphs,
chewing on pencils
she told me she was mine,
and I didn't believe her much.

The geometry of our bodies
forming equations
telling us
how to look at the stars
how to learn something new
and apply it to what we
don't understand
but won't forget.