we plant the seeds of our own destruction
"everything in moderation."

here I am in backlash station,
braiding my hair
with poison in my lungs,
on my breath,
in my stare.

my silver tongue has an alchemists tooth
a lung for a lung and the whole world's done
anti-smoke anti-drink anti-fry
diet coked, diet thinking, diet guy
yes, he's gonna die

bleeding through his finger tips
we touch lips, hips? say goodbye,
maybe take him home next time.
he's got me in a bind
stuck in his rhyme
he peeled me from the core
though I had a rind
but the fruit which I drink
is GMO such as he,
the fluoride in my sink.

a love poem made me think
a tag is such a drag
because a label isn't me,
a price could be
innocence
mystery
a held too close and you're history

he sent to me
late night called to see
if the aches from which I break have calmed down to be
more of a lesson than a test,
more of a sleep than a restlessness.

there's no one who should have to witness this...

"I'll be okay."
maybe I'll say it again...
"I'll be okay."

For once and forward because I want to,
a lot of people said I didn't have a choice but to
and I don't want to hurt any of you,
with the insanity of keeping things in
with the feelings that I simply suppressed
thought he made me happy and undressed
foolishly traded my tears for alcohol
sweet words for smoke, true love for a joke.

I've lost all I could lose
let him take all that I thought could be took,
and now I finally see what was to be had all along,
what was there all along...

you all were right and I was wrong.

I ran away, that's not okay,
but I'm back and here today.
I love you all, I love you most,
I wont push you away, so hold me close.

I'm breaking and aching, I'm shedding out tears,
I'm sorry for masking and mashing my fears.

I know I don't know and I wish to learn quick,
there's not that much time and there's no love in a ****,
excuse my bad language for I do not speak  French...

I'll stop with the jokes and go for what's true,
there's no more emptiness in the words "I love you".

This page is terrifying,
        and now it is mine.
There are no rules on this page,
        my eyes are all that see it.
        My pencil greets it with my hands stroke.
        My movement takes it where ever I please.

I would like to enhance my style with technique.

People:         my greatest fear
                                 &
                     my greatest love
                         intertwined.

Often times I mistook that love for hate, yet
looking back upon the reasons, I realize how
vain they were. How horridly timid I was to
let the truth, lies and rumors all become one.

How silly the grief of things.
         How rude of me to focus in on them.

As if the plague was the cure to the madness
engulfing me as my friendships grew and
declined in number so rapidly. If only I could
say that I knew what I was doing.

How glad I am to say that I was not.
         How glad I am to say that I learned to move on.

I have learned, at that.
I will bloom at winters end.

even when I'm with you I miss you,
but I try really hard not to when you're gone.

I keep trying to love you less,
or love you different,
but I can't.

I need some more:
s                              p

                  a
     ­                                  c
        e.

I want some more:

s                              x.
               e

backwards breaking
belligerent bleeding
no success
in the wanting
no independence
in the needing
counterproductive concepts
crumbling creativity
no more
knowing
no more
clinging
no more
ringing
subtle silences
scorching screams

it's not a holiday
but we're drinking
smoking *******
threatening our hearts
with ideas of "again"
of "tomorrows"

the best time to dream is
from 7:30am to 8:15am
those are the dreams
you wake up with
the dreams that feel so real
that life is more dreamlike
so fantasies stay and play
no fear left in your heart
no longer needing to be wrapped in another
the only love is created from within
not from each other's

so let the mountains surround
and the music drowned
no drinking tonight
NO drinking tonight
don't bring it or leave it
I wake up at night
chug water
heavy breathing

I miss his kiss, back, tongue, hips
so, no drinking tonight, I want to
let go, not sink in.

rising up
as I'm
growing up
****
waking up
middle of the night
still drunk
throwing up
****
no drinking tonight

shedding layers in the light
I'll glow off the snow tonight

color slips from photographs
and collects in a single file line
that leads through your door frame
and into the kitchen, where
the smell of us kisses your cheeks warm.

it's not the physical communication that's wrong
it's not the knowing parts, it's the missing pieces,
or the things we succeed to keep out:
like cold air, and feelings.

at least for now.

"you're lucky."

I have no idea what I'm doing.

"no one knows."

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.

Sometime's we expect too much,
but we think we deserve it.

exchange me
in your sight.
let me grow
and soak in light.
my shadow's got me
trapped inside,
words crumble from my lips tonight.

admiring you, admiring me.
my actions are subconscious and timid,
not enough action to get a reaction.
I'm building mountains to destroy them:
mountains made of flesh covered drums,
vibrations of thought, and honey dipped bones.

I crawl to move forward because sudden movements make you flinch.
you want me alone
and you're alone
and I'm wrapped up sweetly
wanting nothing but to sink so deeply into my wrappings
that I become the wrappings
like a bird in the cage
that soon becomes nothing but feathers.

kiss me
taint
my lips.

eat me
absorb
my sin.

ink is on the page to reveal this sinking stage
and the time that it takes
to change from bad habits to new ways.
self-reflection is the stitch that broke the
dams that built up through neglect.
now the flow is aching for a record
of it's mass accumulation, only through this process
will it provide sweet stimulation.

you carry a heart of sand,
and you left a grain
inside my brain
to cure the pain
of a smoldering flame
for what remains
in my own sand crusted box of feelings.

the first time in a month, I see you
and my heart collapses upon itself
a million times over.
what a wonderful experience, to be
tortured with love so timid it doesn't
recognize itself

The mild interest has burnt out
you're on the floor, blacked out
too high to lift a finger
you lie there with no regret
feeling the waves
and sinking into the couch.

relaxation, calmness, peace.

Breathing life into yourself
you let it out and pass it along
you see their faces
stare into their eyes
and get lost in the moment.

wonder, amusement, curiosity.

Tap your fingers with anticipation
your body sways side to side
foot tapping to the beat of the rain
fiddle with the light switch
and pace to the door.

excitement, hope, anxiety.


Touching her skin, but not really
every inch you move forward
she moves ten back
so you just sit there
and amuse the thought.

inane, joyous, free.

Tape the memories to the wall
paint a picture that shows it raw
give them their story
adding your own tunes
and then live your own life.

taken, full, complete.

I need to be alone
so that I can feel this.
I have an ache to ache,
Do you get it?
Can you feel the pain that's building through my lack of feeling?
It's waiting to engulf me and it's tainting my judgement of time,
entertainment and beauty.

The independence I long for stretches me thin.
My lust for love has now been shown in the light
and I feel that I've realized I wanted nothing more
than to feel wanted, needed, and cared for.
That maybe love isn't what I was missing.

I know that I don't know
and that I'm learning more every day.
I just hope that these feelings of disgust dissipate
and through that which I overcome helps me to create.

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.

today there is time
a handful of options to choose from.
this restlessness has been dissolved
with people that help me to rest
so that this forgetfulness processed.

I found myself chugging down opinions
from people who speak with broken teeth,
finding clarity through curled toes in washed clothes,
roughed up shoes, and coconut stains.

I'm relearning connection
With everything I've got:
My light
My love
And
My words

I hear their foot steps
crunching behind me
as they follow through
narrow paths struggling
not to get lost in the trees.

Moonlight barely gazing
our surroundings becoming
more of a painting in the darkness
and the previously peaceful
patches of forest are haunting
with mystery and our internal
compasses blur into nothingness.

Introducing myself to the unknown
my followers lose themselves
while blindly trying to match
my pace, my crawls, and my falls.

No longer the leader they meant for me to be
Never wanted to be the leader either way
Always to the shackles anyways
Yes I'm walking sideways
into space and beyond
the chaos of being stuffed into a mold of perfection
so intoxicating and draining
sickening, the reckoning
lead yourself and I'll lead me
that. is. perfection.

I'll call you for directions
more times than a normal person should
because I never think to write them down,
and I try too hard to burn things into my brain.

I've been asking questions all my life
and now I'm finally answering why.
Except they're not your questions,
and I like how you know
when I don't want you to stop.

Now I don't think it's beautiful,
because I remember how it felt.

Nostalgia has this sickening grip
that keeps me alive with no sleep,
and I know I'm obsessed with dreams,
but I have perfectly good reasons to be.

I hate it when you love me,
but that's all I want when you're away:

it's meaningless lust for what I can't keep.

I've always been able to hear you through the walls,
but I never realized that you could hear me too.

That's a lie, I knew you could,
I just never thought you listened.

I've been killing myself for you,
staying up late to hear your hushed voice,
hiding in closets, and sitting in the streets,
doing whatever I can,
for the one I'll never meet.

I'm in love with a balloon
who's always confused
we blew him up with our mouths
so he just rolls around the floor
I used to think we were good friends
but when I left he stayed
I tried to keep in contact
but he never had anything to say
I knew the weeks would pass
and he would slowly decay
but I still can't help but miss him
Francios was his name

Still cooking for two
When I’m not with you
Not even hungry lately
Happily starving within the craving

where do I fit
in a place like this?

this is where I wake up:
the next morning
everything has changed.

I had to leave for inspiration:
that's where I practiced
mind expansion.

even there, I wondered,
with my head split open
to all sides of the city,
does he see the same love in me,
that I do in him?

I didn't ever want to leave.

"let's spend our time in here forever.
if not in love, in discovery of that love.
in the end: take it with us,"
I thought these things in grids
of hand prints stretched to the ocean,
for miles I thought, but never spoke.

it hurts to learn why
we dream in silence.

I feel like your lips,
and everything beneath them,
belong to me.

I feel like your fingers,
and I want to feel your fingers,
on my lips,
and everything underneath the sheets.

I want to smell like warm tea,
and taste like smooth cream,
and I want you to open my eyes
to your lucid dream.

If you want to spend your time under trees,
I get it,
and if you don't want to waste your time in the same ways,
I get it.
But if you want to hold me,
and mumble ***** secrets that I don't understand to my shoulder,
or smile so that I can feel it on my lips,
then I don't.

We can eat the same food,
and inhale the same breath,
but no matter what happens at night,
it wont matter in the morning.

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.

ever get so drunk
that you just ****
any attractive person
that shows interest in you?

it's a tough thing to do
apologize?

lovely lovely people
the romantic in you doesn't grow
simply shrinks
with all the drinks
you are
disillusioned
will heal
**** that
not those people
give in to true
love?
it's worth the work
and the
pain?

twenty one and single
broken hearted
feels *******
working hard
day in day out
volatile tactics
repeating old habits
twenty one and single
wondering why
I do what I do
art and beer
*** and fear
nothing is clear
why do I want you here?
things were easy
enjoying your breathing
the heat you emit
the way that we fit
twenty one and single
wondering too much
craving to be touched
who and when
again with a friend
why why why
in the evening
......why
do I miss that guy?

I want to go where I can still see the stars.

Where a flat tire is a simple "I miss you".
I won't be back for a while,
I've been feeling hungry for attention,
like a child.
Dreams about you in the grocery store,
and rooms with our names on them,
but not the same ones.

Is it wrong that I like my secrets?
Or that the girl screaming "*******!"
probably didn't mean it?
Or that I wished I was 4 floors closer to her eyes
and her hands?

Hopefully we never meet.
I wouldn't be able to hold on for more than a heartbeat
or two.
It takes more than a million to fall in love,
And twice as much for them to love you back.

I'm sorry I talk about love so much,
but it seems to be the only thing you're interested in.

you can die whenever you want,
but you can't live.

matching sweaters:
it was nice to see you today.

lumps of cat fur scattered over
the **** carpet of my brothers
hallway.

he says he's going to give me
a hug tomorrow.

I don't know what to say
as I stare at his unshaved face.
His eye's are more worn than
the voices that scream up the
stairs to him. He looks at me
as if he's trying to memorize:

this moment:
t   r   u  t   h
   r  u   t   h  t  r  u  t  h
      u  t  h  t  r   u  t   h  
         t  h  t  r  u  t  h
            h  t  r u  t h
               t  r  u  t  h
                       p
                          o
                             u
                                r
                             ­     s
                                      out.

these open spaces were born the same way we were:
                                         only opposite.

self-sacrificed suffering
this life burns into nothing.
abstract obstructions
my hands are full,
cleaning, moving,
legs sore
and voice changing tones,
laughing is more persistent.

don't be nervous:
retract all motions blocked by the feeling of it.
lack of control, the situation needs to build itself
and all you have to do is live it.

communication codes:
call me esoteric emily,
leave me up in trees
I'll throw apples down for you to eat.
you feel like stones,
cement, hard-laced fruit loops,
and the morning after, and the year
after year after year
that
will
follow.

something smooth to rhyme to,
you're building fences for me to jump,
I'll leave you to mind them.

your eyes were my eyes, and it felt natural.
something you showed me that took advantage
of the bounds that tie and rebound and break,
something similar to a run on sentence.

sarcastic similes
arcane knowledge seeping through my eyelids.
now I'm forced by my own self-will to tell you everything.  
there are more forces than that,
I'll learn to respect them in silence
rather than saying that I don't believe in them.
doesn't mean I'll get on my knees and pray,
just means I might want something.
seemingly mean
from the things that seem
                                                                                to tunnel
                                                                              underneath
your garbage,
                       your sinking
thoughts
combined
with
circumstantial
evidence
led me to believe in the beauty I swore was gone.
thankfully all suffering passes no sooner than happiness does.

holding on for better days
leaving the ones that left me dazed
thoughts that blurred
leave me amazed

broken
always broken
patterns which remained
the same

my heart wont part
or gush or beat
connecting is all to do
it seems

I've been pretending to be a pair of legs,
making the rest of my body disappear.
Too bad I just covered the top half of my body in mud,
leaving my skin dry and cracked.
I got sick of waiting for someone to walk by,
so I went into town to look for a friend.
It was too dark for me to see,
and I couldn't turn on a light if I wanted to be invisible.
someone saw me, and they tried to steal my hat,
that's when I killed them with my nail clippers.

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.

--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.

my laughing is a sign of panic
due to the indigestible actions;
the piercing made me *****.

slowing down to an interlude;
the interest is waiting patiently
for you to make your way through.

destruction of self is a bar fight:
joining in those actions isn't on
my schedule this evening, nor
shall it be for as long as I can help
myself from myself, in the reflections
of fear that are so often transparent
when I find myself surrounded by
those who only wish to forget.

the forgetting is what forces me to focus.

crowds are a collective of nervousness
and a strangely large number of people
who refuse to be honest because they're
trying to hide the fact that they care about
what every set of eyes has to think, and the
self-centered inner voice
that thinks they actually care
about what they themselves are doing,
or look like.
the sad and beautiful truth is that people
are too worried
about themselves to think of anyone else.

I'm not saying you shouldn't dream, just,
this isn't the place.

I know how she wakes you up in the morning,
like she's got somewhere to go that's important
and you're already, a day or two or eight, late.

Your handwriting reminds me of chocolate chip pancakes
and the smell of rain through an open window in February.
You shouldn't press down so ******* your eraser.
It confuses people. Always sounding like sneakers
rubbing against linoleum and it's misleading when
you have feelings you can't explain and you've
been waiting for what feels like three days without
taking a ****, but you're waiting because you don't
want to miss something important, and even though
it hurts the way bee stings, and paper cuts, and
too many donuts after dinner hurt,
you hold it.

It's hard to keep my eyes open.

thinking of you on the nights we didn't sleep,
or the ones where we would sleep wide awake
but we wouldn't talk.
I'd talk. you would listen.
you liked it and I needed it, so it made sense
for us to be in the same room.
I got lost in something you asked me to explain.

"time to dance,"

your reason:

"No one's watching, just let go."

wishing for the buzz of bees
when little feet walk over me
******* blood and leaving dust
how long have I been waiting?

sleeping on the couch
getting kicked out for subtle comforts
the stench of liberation
boiling in my veins
spilling over
the mess is a distraction
creating distractions
reminds me of lost passions

passing ions
all infinite
am I infinite?
coarse
of course
it's a new course!
learning has taught me
that the more you know
the less you want to
and the less I want to
the more I want to
dichotomy of the ever-bingeing
morning-cringing
woman you want to ****
and she wants to ****
and she wants to hide

deception of pride!

I still walk with my head up
lips curled, up
survived last night
no throw up
just throwing up hands
one with a drink
always another one

talking too loud about illegal things

again
I sit in wonder
about how easy it is
to drink
talent away
how I drank so much of mine
****** it down the drain
instead of tickets
rides on the train
writing poetry
all just a dream
it seems

escape
practically impossible
at this point
too many mistakes
to run away
repairs must be made
only my love left to take
experience has taught me
it's only your love left to shake
from my bones and my insides
thoughts of you are too toxic for me to
detox
all I can hear is the thudding of my heart
can't hear your weak knocks
your eyes are shots
worry and fear
all you
brought
and
you still linger
in my head
as I lay in bed
forever alone
consumed into a restlessness
tossing and turning
rolling over
thoughts of you
my physical memory
is nothing but a haunting
dark and ghostly figure of your touch
your presence
you wouldn't touch me
just lay there
rotting
two feet beside me
too far ahead of me, too busy sinking

white powder mildew in my ears
whisper something I can hear
it's fear
give me something to harness
maybe fill this emptiness
it's clear
two blue eyes and a mouth full of doubt
I want to hear you shout
that you're here
Feeling broken all the time I lose myself
within the rhyme
my dear

cold winters rain
weathers game
I'm feeling insane

I'm a black dove
you're a green-leaf newt
I'm not sure what to do

green leafed crystals canopy
over me like
a cave
surrounded by a miracle
working but never
a slave
no dreams could dare to stand against
such a sweet
magnificence.

in the wind
they bowed
as I danced
in and out,  through & through
small white plastic
cubes
inescapable t a n g l e s
reach up and under while
imagining

all the
                        a
                            n
     ­                            g
                              l
                         e
                    s

procrastination
is not being able to
love you right away

I was watching this movie about this woman,
and she was trying to ****** this man,
but they had known each other since they were kids
and he didn't think of her that way,
so whenever the woman would try and make a move
he would simply remove himself from the moment.
It was sad, in a humorous way.

It reminded me of that story you told me,
the one about the time you were home alone
and you tried to make a bath tub full of tea
and drink it all, but you ended up forgetting
about it and you spent the rest of your weekend cleaning.
It was funny, but in a close-friends sort of way.

I know we don't listen to all the same music,
and I don't know that much about what we do,
but I'd like to think that it effects us the same.

your hands are golden
and as frail as dry leaves.
your collar bone sends me
into a  breath bend, so I follow
the traces of your fingers on my stomach
and the crooked fragments of your once broken bones.
you've got a nervous segment of thought,
I can feel as you attempt to shake it out,
**** thoughts, you send waves of telepathy and I'm molten.

your illusions are being built on ladders,
as thin as your legs, and my fingers.
you've captured a foot, slammed into the back of each knee
and you don't lose balance.
swallowing poison, tastes good.
happiness overwhelms your senses.
everything seems better when you're killing yourself.
brain screaming: this is it!
might as well do all the things you're afraid of.

commit to a struggle for strategy.
all lined up, dressed in slept-in jeans.
you're more tired than you'd dare to admit
because your weakness is fatal. too much of yourself
locked in that tower you climb so flawlessly.
slime walls and all.
you offer me the chance to climb, not something I'd grasp
until I lost my mind, slip down the side, fall behind, leave you with time
and come back to lay on the cement around your corners.

I bring you a flower, a simple response to my own thought.
a gesture of love, of friendship, forgiveness and fear.
I'd write you something beautiful if you deserved it.
in the holding back of words, I found that if I'm writing about you
then it doesn't mean it's for you.
I can't help who I love, just as I can't help what I fear.
call me a baby, but don't call me yours.
hold me when you want to, I wont miss you until I'm there.

let me become a little less of what sickens me.
let myself break through shadows and soak midnight moon
through my half darkened, thoroughly searching eyes.

another day
proving to myself
that I can be myself

**no apologies or excuses included

choke this love out of me.
kiss
away
the
pain.
let me cheat away my effort
so that I can shake off this rushed mistake.
give me the confidence to know I'm not alone,
even when I'm in the depths, crying until I find myself at home.

although home is a place with paper thin walls, those walls are
a manifestation of fear
because any person on the other side can
hear
how I feel, what I feel,
if I give myself pleasure,
or give into the pain I manifested.

it's simple and dramatic,
complicated and calm.

It's what I've been saying, struggling to explain, all along.

I've told my secrets, given myself away,
taught my soul that it's okay to hurt,
and make mistakes.

I've made myself think I need to be a certain way,
that this is good and this is bad and there's a balance in between.
My eyes have sharpened and my tongue has tied, I've found all I've known
before is a lie and a lesson, the truth and a test.
I've gotten to the point of patience where I don't realize how much time has gone by.

what day is it?

here's hoping the eye of the storm
will direct it's way towards yours,
but mostly,
that it holds warmth.

In the beginning:

I'm not sure if you understand,
but you're smiling

wound up into a new universe
tangled in the sheets of all the things we're learning,
we are eaten up by nothing.
the sun explodes.
the moon rises amongst
the ashes:
labeled snow.

It's not the end of the world,
it's the middle.
I never knew of a place more beautiful.

time: it's pulping.

'I love you,' she whispered through
her closed eyelids;
and as the light did every morning,
along with perfect lips to one another,
the cat approached.

It was within the darkness
In which I could finally catch my breath
The stillness comforted me
While I gained my strength
The patient silence in which I dwelled
Dispelled the misery as I dove greater depths
With each inhale absorbed new meaning
With each exhale new colors emerged
So engulfed with forward movement
I was unaware of what I left behind
In the quiet only night may layer
I found my pain returning home
As it became my own
My heart spoke of the wonders of what I may leave behind
if I were to speak my mind
The silence of my sacred space
As comforting as it had become
Began to split, distort in ways
Light rays easily penetrate
As my colors grow, they can't help but explode
A calling to my souls companions
A dance to my body's imagination
A secret unbroken as the light breaks the silence
As my words break the surface
my darkness finds it's place
And my colors take up space
I take up space
Breaking silence

an illusion of acts
destroyed by the facts
it's innocence she lacks
holding back
attacks

the words she wants to speak
are the words that make a creak,
horrifying shriek!

saying what I feel
and actually feeling
instead of suppressing
passive aggressive thoughts

solitude gives me strength
people give me strength
learning to balance time
is harder than balancing my body
one legged, arms stretched out in front of me

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.

religion is dead
but the taste of butterscotch still lingers in my mouth.

I know it's freezing outside.
that's why I want you to hold me so bad,
it doesn't matter if it's you, it could be anyone,
but I know you need it just as much as I do.

I want to read you something
a little more meaningful than
a grocery list, and I want you to
smile more, but I want nothing to do with it.

I'm more situational than you seem to notice,
and I like how we can sit quiet and listen to nothing,
but I'd much rather hear your voice through the
haze of tension that seems to follow us, rather than
watch you sit alone on a welcome mat for depression.

I love you is a funny way of saying I love you,
but none of us really know what it means until
we know what it means, and I know how bad it
hurts when we lose what it means, but I'm sure
we'll find it again. Even if we have to be patient,
and scream a little, and **** someone worthless.

For what it's worth or how much you care,
I want you to know that I care, even if it's
only enough to dodge questions and push
boundaries and cross some t's or some lines.

You give me cold feet and hot cheeks,
but in the friendliest of ways.