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?"

All the coins in your pockets,
everything I've ever given you.
in the washer
in the dryer
burning in the back yard,
like those notes,
and the pictures.
subconscious attempts to hurt you
the attempts of escaping everyone else: equally beautiful
until you looked away.

Don’t leave things alone for too long
or they'll begin to rot.
It took three years for you to give up,
and now your over bite clenches onto your bottom lip.
It looks painful,
but you're always so calm.

I can never tell where you are.

I feel ridiculous asking you questions
that I already know the answers to,
but I can't help it:
I love to hear your voice.

When you came home drenched,
spinning dizzy,
you laid down as I gazed at the wreck that laid before me.
You were in another world, and I didn’t want to follow.
Your golden feet could take you anywhere your heart imagined.
(I guess that was part of the jealously).

I want you to tell me about your childhood,
learn what made you the way you are.

Back to the photographs:
You looked so fragile,
so small, (breakable).

When I saw you cry for the first time,
the comfort in your grasp gave me the confidence
not to panic.
I stared at the bruises on your body,
knowing they would never heal,
knowing that you liked it that way.

I know you never understood how special you were,
that you never would.
I was scared of the things I knew,

I knew I had to leave
before you woke up, and,
walking with the faint shadow
of sleep behind my ears,
itching at my scalp
from the inside:
I took notice of your car,
and the bird **** on your windshield
                                                   reminded me that we were the same.

I will sit next to you on the plane
I am your priestess
I will relieve you of your fears
I will drink your thoughts
I had a dream of lemons in my tea
I looked in the cup
and I saw you staring back at me
it's strange, how easily you consume
I want to leave
I want to breathe
maybe someday I will look at your picture
just not now

the time to express the inner workings of my being
keep slipping out in other ways than what I'm used to.
my speaking is creaking down a hallway with a flickering bulb,
such as the light of my life when I'm straining my neck to get
a better body,
                                                                                                  a better look.
you've charmed me, caught me in your dark eyes.
you've locked me in, and I want to cut off your locks,
and hold them like hands in my pockets
so that you don't have the chance to break them.

emotions are static lately, sparking
catching soft satin on fire
steigen auf mich
I'll show you how I survive.

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?

Face to face with a plum,
and it's not beautiful enough for me.
my red juice drenched lips laugh at the fact,
that no one can feel exactly what I feel.
And to realize the fact that it's our souls,
(and not our heads)
that make us love,
(that make us anything)
is the most human I've ever felt.

Now I'll tell you a secret,
you really can do anything,
as long as you want it enough.
Seriously,
if something doesn't start to eat away at you
from lack, or longing,
then it doesn't matter.
It's nothing.

The good things we feel
make up for all the bad ones.
The pleasure from hugging you goodbye
made up for the feeling of loss.
Your return
will heal the feeling of abandonment.

Our voices will seem different,
because we've changed so much
from the inside out.

I'm sure everyone would want me
to say hello,
they just don't know what I'm doing.

I'm pretty sure writing is a form
of talking to yourself.

Someone spilled a bunch of drinks,
everything is wet.
(I was the only one who noticed).

There are a bunch of dodgy glances
flooding the cafe,
I'm pretty sure it's always like this,
it's just more apparent
because of the current explosion of people.

Being surrounded
is just like being forced
to do something.

I'm not sure what I mean by that though,
so don't bring it up,
ever.

Sometimes we touch each other accidentally,
then it's awkward.
Next time,
I'll say I did it on purpose,
(or be more careful).

often misunderstood
because I'm running.
no more keeping up
with myself.
fevered flowers:
the scent is toxic,
moist petals are
slowly drying as you stare.

love confessions, it's
intelligent not to touch
those thoughts.
my skin screams,
resistance is useless when
a mind is set.
let's enjoy listening to
the wind dancing with water.
abrasive weather
whichever way you stretch.

calm bleeding
only the eyes are shocked.
ultimatums of
healthy habits
only make the sickness creep
harder to keep
back from the surface.
sharp neglect    
there's a lot of goodness here.

cornered commitment
maybe all these tricks aren't magic.
ill tricks in disguise
all encountered is an illusion.
take time
see what pleases and let all else fade
or pass through the transparent torture
that is easily forgotten.

sweet spins
strong arms encase a shattered weakness.
strong sense
for breaking shells built based on fear.
some sanity
in telling the truth boils into insanity.
sane souls
just want crushing cement for breakfast.
smashed spine
twisted into fine petals which cracked.
slowly sweetly
the wind poured down upon the fire.
sweat soured
each hand that reached for another.
screaming search
eye to eye to soul to heart to ache to no.

frightened frustrations
confusion will keep the puppets hanging in waiting.
suspended in space, it's not a race.
a test in patience which will soon be aced.

I told you:
she died to the sound of *** in the room with her
to the sight of nothing but a glowing screen
conscious through the mist
hollow bones screeching as they grind
pulling at each others laughs
can't see anything at all but the fear
slicing through the distance with the suspense of open water
illogical maps traveling through your mind
like a field of naked boys, dancing and singing,
going on rides, sending out signals,
I want to say more things that end that way
suspending in air with a mustache
your large bones are experienced
tripping into the silence
back to the point of:
I don't care.

Each beginning must meet an end
For another beginning to break
The dawn of a new day beckons flowers to bloom
As such petals may fall come noon
What joy once gave you fades in your wake
As the petals furl and uncurl
In the wind
I, too, take flight
My bones outstretched
Catching winds
The winds your sigh cast
The winds beneath those tattered feathers you once called home
The wings you once called joy
Joy in a moment too sudden to drift away
I see darkness in the sky
Clouds parting to grant me a glimpse at the moon
Clouds dissipating at my glance
At a chance
Taking chances as the clouds roll back in
Love lessons in these moments
Just as the flower blooms
Another love begins to fade
Your feathers gather in piles beneath the stars
As you make movement, taking flight
My eyes quiver at the thought of losing you
Moonlight hidden from me today
Never too far from home
Yet home beckons me
My jaw grinds
bone to bone
Your freedom is all I can offer
Dropping your feathers
Bleeding seeds
Flashing moonlight as you leave
From petals to feathers to bones to ashes
I miss you in the fire
of a new night to warm up in
I miss you in the crisp mornings
Planting seeds

digging through the pavement
with our fingers
we have nothing to show
but asphalt underneath our nails.

sometime's we're attracted,
but mostly we're distracted.

insignificant figures torn
from the edges of what we call reality
wanting to be something more,
only to be left in the dark to struggle with the bends.

sometime's we're alive,
but mostly we're dead.

heavy waves of realization
scorn the oblivious into truth
proving the lack of worth
with each stroke
everything shades itself out
before anyone can think again.

they call me cat-liter, I'm their slave.
I'm embarrassed at sharp edges,
you've caught me all confused.
he said sleep, but translated space.
at least that's the way these feelings memorize.

depression, rage, stress,
broken threads, spandex,
cold sandwiches, free muffins that you missed:
I want to scream in your face
so that when I hold you I know
you're really crumbling.

I missed you like I missed myself.
my cleaning quickened so that I could see you.

maybe you needed some time spent,
in caffeinated tendencies,
to just blow off some steam.
Forget a few things,
for as long as you could until they
slam you back down again.
I'm not here to weigh you down,
I've got myself covered.

two of the same,
one in the same.
it's sometimes harder to communicate.
the release brings peace, my love.
I wish trust wasn't so hard to come by
in this shy blockage I've got all clogged up,
paranoid by my own actions,
thinking your freedom might repeat itself
in ways that will rip me free.

you're stuck to me like honey,
you're my islebee, make me freeze and see
what lies between and find that all love needs
is a breath
to catch amongst such harsh winds.

shared pain is
building up with you.
can't find a way back down,
don't want to.
there was a chance
and he blew it, too easy, baby.
not enough resonance for me.
something simple,
but still crazy.

"it's easier
if you understand it. "

keep track of your pulses,
a healthy mistake: don't blame me.
I just want to lay in bed with you all day.
don't want to ask to be touched, don't want to
think about it.
some lustful friendship hanging from frail wings.
he's tired all the time, how could he say such things?
i'm lonesome, but i'm nice. i know my place, i'll share it with you.
if you just gave up self-fulfilled torture then you'd see your desperation
is mislead by such a heavy head, best not avoid the issues that clog you up.
tell yourself you're beautiful,
you're better than breaking,
you've got the heart and the spirit,
the mind that could shine straight through your eyes
to send love a million paces in each direction,
attracting all you desire.

not always what you long for is what you need,
or what will truly make you happy.
some passion soaks in shadows,
guide yourself and you'll find what you're looking for,
or rather, what you're looking for will find you.

my wolf is yet a plague of thought,
again I am consumed by loves gentle rock.
the more it shields me from the stench of my rot,
I remember all I once forgot.

no one has caught my heart,
in fact,
I think it's torn apart
so raw, the tragedy of desire
the smoldering fire of blue flames
burn my love into a smoke,
which I inhale with the attempt
to recycle and filter out all the hurt I've caused.

to myself
to others
and for no one.

a romantic dying hard
trying not to escape the truth
while at the same time trying not to create any lies.

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.

Sitting next to you is like the first bite of real food
after being a child your whole life,
eating mashed bananas and apple sauce.
Switching from one ****** to the next,
when you switched from ******* to biting
is when I knew we'd finally grown up.

I was in a layer of a memory,
and I was looking at it from inside my mind,
for some reason it scared me
because it's hard to swim in sand,
and you certainly can't breathe in it.

I've been so interested in you that
I've memorized the lines that lace your eyes,
and I can only hope,
that you've memorized mine too,
or at least fade into the color.

I keep telling myself,
"You don't love him,
not like that."
but I can still feel my heart smile,
and I'm just happy that you'll be in my life,
and that I can hold you whenever I want.
I think the best part about us,
is that I don't have to ask if you're happy,
because I know you are.

I've thought a lot of beautiful things,
and I want to share all of them with you.

Some Hesse for your morning, "Only the ideas that we truly live have any value."

Interestingly enough,
impulse has led it's course.
Repeating the same things,
makes my throat go hoarse.
Each life has so many reasons,
for the consequences they receive.
Keep that
bright
penny
horn
beam
locked in the seems.
Counting dollars for whiskey
instead of the corpse bleeding
holding the beating
of
your
silly
little
heart.

Keep counting your days,
please try
and leave it
at one day
each day
at a time.

leaving
won't keep retreating
the movement of your
crime

yeah you've got
the same girl and
you're still just much too shy.
well look here mate,
I saw your date,
but she's not as
great as mine.

so fine. and charming,
it feels alarming.
trying not to make waste
but to continue the chase
is not an attempt of mine.
I find myself caught
in a bind.

that moment
that meaning
it was nothing more than feeling
the same things I felt, when I felt
like someone else. Today, I feel,
and I am someone else, each day
is today! let's meet someone else
so we can truly be ourselves. Or
just take it away
to a new found place,
because if you go I won't stop you,
I don't mind change. Interesting,
as it was. I find I'm truly alive.
Feeling new things, breathing,
no rings!
I avoided as much that simplicity brings,
I'd never get so attached to such constricting things.
snakes on the loose, cut up and wet, soaking in the
moisture of their guts in their rut.

Not a place to be having
company to boot.
we're all caught in dining
in this strangling root.

cut the cords while I'm dreaming,
I want to rest in peace.
soon nothing but blue water
blue skys and blue brains,
this is all a romantic drama
that blew through my veins.

who could have knew, who would have known?
it's morning and it's raining, let's stay inside all day.
keep away                                                    keep away,
                         the time to play is over.
keep away

                                               keep away.

jelly bones cracked his wrist
and wouldn't go to school in the morning.
Kept his notes in the back of his jeans,
and when he bent over
he couldn't reach.

there was a song about those notes
and he sung even though he was out of key.
partly joking, or just a tease?
she keeps her distance,
explaing how water that feels like sunburns are the best part of her day.

Oh sweet miracle, I'm not gonna lie.
I can swim any day and
Now
I think it's time to fly.  

-Some people think structure is beauty, others find that chaos is beauty just the same. Perhaps each idea that pops into our heads wont be the one we hoped it would be, but then realized expectations leave you dry.
Being here in this moment, focused on the now, it's not as easy as it could be today, but I feel the times are quickly changing.

-On time:
                 it's just so easy to make false assumptions about this notion,
                 this measurement,
                 but perhaps that's all a part of this game we call life.
                                           Let's play a game to see who gets their name
                                                    on the fridge
                                                         and a pat on the back.
"My friends. We see things so differently and yet we seem them exactly the same."

You describe the tree tops as majestic,
and cats, and trampolines, and pancakes with no egg,
not even milk, not even a drop of milk.

Your postcards wont be able to find me,
so don't bother wasting your stamps,
use them for something important,
like potatoes, or some fake eye lashes.

Side-hugs are awkward,
so are nervous people,
and I get especially nervous
when you ask my friends to lick your toes.

My tongue is rough,
like a cats tongue,
and no one wants to kiss a cat,
because a cat hides behind the cracks.
Inside the cracks noise makes,
and in the color of your eyes.

I write out my secrets,
bold, and italic

Hoping someone will realize that I'm lying,
or that I wish I was lying.
That everything I say is a joke,
or that every sincere piece of literature is burning
in the flames that are your eyes,
and it's going to leave scars deeper than you could imagine.

My nails are getting long,
but my clippers are still stuck in that mans left eye,
(not that it matters, he deserved what he got).

I've thought about imprisonment,
and it didn't take me too long to realize that I'm living it,
or that I can see it in my best friends laugh lines,
or in the corners of her brothers eyes.

A whale once told me about her experience:

"All the corners meet brick by brick
I'm stuck in a cell and I'm getting sick
the food is gross
I want to listen to Sigur Ros
BUT I CAN'T
because I did a bad thing"

I guess I don't have any room to complain about love,
or friendship, or ****, or torture, or birth,
no matter how traumatic people say it is.
I'll always be stuck in my head,
and to me,
that's worse than anything.

I fell asleep,
dreaming of your blood shot eyes
I woke up,
to an earthquake of emotion
I gave in,
to the fragile smile of a timid boy
I gave up,
to the words that held me down
I went to,
a place with people
I left,
and sang about their hats
their dreams
and then,
I danced their ambitions
I fell asleep,
to the song of your splattered eyes
I woke up,
to the reality that they never belonged to me.

I would love to find someone with the same stack of books on their bed-side table,
the ones they should be reading, but never do,
they're just too busy,
and they keep buying more,
adding to the stack.

I wouldn't mind drinking tea from a jar everyday,
the kind that you'd set in the sun to soak the day away.
I'd watch you from the window,
you'd smile and wave,
******* kisses,
the kisses that made me feel ***** when I woke up.

I would watch you fold the laundry
with your delicate hands,
all the time wishing you were folding me,
not caring about the neighbors,
or that the blinds were open.

I wouldn't dare give away those books,
the ones that we read together,
but I'd sell the ones you let me borrow that I never read,
I'll stuff them in my backpack and sell them for a buck a piece,
I bet you'll be sorry you left,
when you're missing those books,
those quotes,
I'll bet you'll be sorry,
when you're missing me.

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.

raining:
smells clean,
cold. sky,
a smoky mass
of liquid.

seems fitting
look your best
seems ripping
confidence shot
through your legs
don't you dare
start shaking

emotions
wild, and
untamed.
actions in
a frenzy
unnamed
bone held
kisses are
stinging
your flesh.
an eruption
of action
cradled
in malice.
intentions?
no direction.
attention?
dissection.
innocent?
objection!!

lights on
dress up
lights off
get down
sun's up
shake off
sun's down
take on...

consequences with no direction
actions without thought or reason
no wonder all the courtesy
was more than just teasing
with two broken hearts
one might slow the pounding,
or maybe take another beating.

a glass 1/4 full,
            3/4 poisoning me.
a gift from the devil,
once a charming fellow,
but he encouraged me to swallow.
"Drink, drink! Enjoy the mystery,
don't stop to think. Drink, drink!"

encouragement towards destruction
break your fist on my plastered heart
you've got the strength for construction,
a ******* art, tear me apart with your
actions, distractions!! your lips are poison,
no more sweet than ****.

doubtfully beneficial
for either party, who's
to say who knows best?

each action has a reaction
a movement of the tongue,
lips, hands, teeth, fist, just
the same, ends with another
consequence.

"Think, think!" the black angel rings,
"Think, think! You were never King!"

THEIF!! theif!!

you've taken what was not yours to take
accepted what you should have denied
wanted to find some sort of paradise?
maybe you should have stopped gazing
when you met his eyes, let yourself cry
alone, where you belong. never should
have opened a black-holed, back-breaking
always-aching, can't help from taking, heart.
not only a wreckage of your own faults,

the battlegrounds for healing:
day one.

tough break, my love
you can't shake my love.
I've awoken to hot rain
skin humid
eyes tired
wanting to see you.

I'm growing, my love
I can't stop, my love.

full moon tonight
sky in my eyes
shadows are my sight
with blurry eyes
I squint to see
and bask in light

the deep sea
in your gaze
a glance
casting bait

drawn in
yet not cornered
strapped in
yet still free

I've been caught in,
somewhat lost in,
a moment of longing
for the next moment
that we meet.

full moon in your eyes,
my heart
a wolf,
howling.

I hurt my knuckles for you
but never can mean sometimes
if you're like me, and you like me.

If I was chocolate moose that **** butterflies for a living,
and sold them on the streets of San Fransisco,
so that I could sleep in your bed after the disco,
would you stay up all night and tell me your secrets?
or would you fall asleep?


I've sold myself clean,
in the most ***** of ways,
giving out hand hugs,
and those glances, that you know are really sensual,
but it's a secret,
because you want it so desperately
(we both do).

Be happy,
because you know that moments are moments and that sooner or later,
you'll be living in a moment,
and that moment,
will be ***.

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.

here I've written my thoughts
and you've read them more than
my contradictions. I am myself.
don't give me reactions unless you feel something,
anything, from what I create.
If you can't relate then that's okay,
but if you can, and you learn,
I've also learned from the response my words shake
from the tips of your limbs, fingers that share the way I do.

Sometime's a pen and paper seem difficult to fit
into such a tight schedule, but you'd think that it'd be the
first step to how you really feel.

if you can take the time to think a feeling, slowly,
repeating, and then write it down with ink,
at least you know it was worth your time.

my days are long like mothers nails,
the light smiles I fall asleep to wake
the demons, which I feel are slowly
dragging me down.
                               listen to yourself.
transcend what you think to be true
and create truth with all that you do.
I won't hurt myself if you don't, not
only
because
we
promised.

I want to fall asleep to your light and
wake up to it. If your demons awake,
push them away. you're stronger than
you think.
                 let's make as little sense as possible
              and try not to ask or answer anything.
that's something I might be too good at.
just like thinking.
and contradicting.
I often say I'd rather think too much than not enough.
something painful
to live out daily. I
feel a small sense of rewarding for my abundant thought,
and a large amount
of surprise at the lack.

take it or leave it.
it's all an illusion.

I'm feeling like I might kiss you
but I know you like to sleep
and it's hard to untie your hands
when the kid who did it knows how to double knot
and he likes to hide behind your back
or press his against yours.

We only talk to each other so that we're not alone,
and we only listen so that we wont be again.

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.

my love is breathing fire
a dragon in it's cave
no longer speaking words
because my tongue is now a slave
it was moon light
almost pure white
the night was but a wave

I need daylight to be over
so that the octupus leaves in my back yard can breathe
all the dogs left them swelling and burning for daily bread,
daily milk, and last calls to board the plane.
It's really **** hard to understand what the person on the intercom is saying when you've got stalks of corn growing out of your ears
imitating how rough and useless everything that comes in is
how it's just sprouting out and some people are going to get hit in the face if they don't realize that personal bubbles are more important than an inhaler, at least at this point.

The ball in my mouse has fallen out and now I can't seem to get anywhere, drinking bottles of cough syrup to try and feel the sickening sweetness of your kiss, when all you really wanted was to be someone else. The lion painted on my shirt tells me I'm wrong for paying attention to the little things, like the color of your sweater and if you made it or not.

I feel like I'm following a snow storm in a bathing suit,
which makes it awkward during interviews but my mom tells me I need to get a job and start thinking for myself and thinking about others because I only have one brother and he might **** himself soon.

Teachers don't seem to realize that my answers sound like my mouths full of peanut butter and they don't know that when I turned 9 I used to smear it on my skin and let my dog lick it off. I hope that doesn't ******* off as boring or twisted, but I've got enough cough syrup to know that my lungs will stay inside my body, even if they're all chewed up digesting in my stomach with the rest of the things I said that I wish I could take back, with the rest of the tongues that fumbled and mumbled phrases that made me look like a tobacco spitting uncle from Tennesse.

it's not that I don't want to see you anymore,
or that I want you to grow up and be something more,
but I'm not the same person I was before,
I'm starting to lose myself and I feel it seeping from the very core.

Life.
It's like a black hole or a star that burnt out,
it's scary and not as beautiful as it was when I was a kid.
People are getting better looking, growing into themselves like marijuana plants.
These women have vertigo and not enough time to walk where they need to be, so they asked me to go to the store and they paid me with dinner, I sat at the table in a rocking chair and wondered why they had so much hair on the floor.
it wasn't like we were having a bad time
but we sure didn't know how we got to talking about ******* and cranberry juice.
All the while I felt like saying something meaningful,
but I knew they wouldn't get my jokes and I knew that my sarcastic tendancies would get the best of me and we'd be in a grinder full of bugs and rocks and all of those things we avoid when we're afraid.

I could feel my teeth wanting to break as I chewed my food
and clenched my jaw at the conversation.
The woman to my left said I looked like someone she knew,
I said,
"You do know me."

the words came out like a siren of warning,
I had gone too far.

I looked at my hand that held their fancy spoon
my reflection stared back like it didn't know me
and I could see my eyes turn away and I could see my hand on the door ****
but what I couldn't see was the woman,
who followed me home.
the woman,
the one that knows me best.

another night out
dancing alone in the crowd
music blaring, loud
the singer, a voice
that shouts
sprouts out
emotions
thin veins peaking
thin skin peeling
no longer moist
during day break
simply breaks
cracking in the heat
a drought of the heart
locked in tight
rough beatings
smooth talking
it's harder to move
being held down
when he's stronger
he'll last longer

you're a goner

an apology isn't good enough,
neither is an explanation.

Sometimes only your heart can help,
but even then it's still not enough.

I guess you just have to tear off your skin,
so they can see what you're really made of.

It's as simple as it gets,
and I hope that you think it's beautiful.

Because I've been sitting in the dark,
to hide from the shadow of my chaos.

Only so that you might see,
what lies beneath my swollen blue.

I know I've used these words before,
but I'm going to try it in a new way.

I'm sorry,
but I'm not in love with you.

oak trees dropping
thorns today
the pine is my friend
no acorns in this shade

the weeds I pulled
left me bleeding

to see you
jaw dropping

to hear you
nearing my end

to feel you
my undoing

so here's to a letter never sent

The woman on the corner forgot to shave her legs,
but  men are only interested in  soft women,
inside and out.
She couldn't  go home, or call,
because she didn't have a phone.
So she sat on the corner
with nothing to keep her warm
except the hair on her legs.

A man walked by who wanted her service,
he had a bag of lemons and an old watch,
she noticed he was wearing shorts,
the amount of  hair on his legs made her feel better.

I've found myself lost in a world of text and fake memories,
realizing that I shouldn't have showed up so late.
I heard they learned,
that even if you stop,
the world keeps going.
That you shouldn't go to bed hungry
and expect to wake up full,
cleaning isn’t productive,
feeling like you’ll come home tomorrow doesn't make it true.
That your beauty’s like a wish and it grows with each flash of your historic smile
and your teeth are the presidents
and they're falling out one by one.
The rain doesn't change you,
it just leaves you soaked and chilled.

Bukowski says poetry is not for the faint of heart. I feel a small ache as I turn another of his pages. What have I been neglecting? Myself, the words, the reality? The reality which the words showed me. Too much for a growing girl, growing in swirls, rather than up, just crazy. Same road again, almost every morning, anxiety. Awkward again, sick and angry boy. He breaks silence with ****** functions and doesn't like to repeat himself.
Okay, Bukowski, you're right.
Poetry is not for the faint of heart.
he art, she art, it will tear you apart... if you let it.

Orgasming in the passenger seat,
while she listens to something she doesn't understand,
sitting across from someone she'll never love,
all the while completely clothed and turned off.

She's one of those girls,
who touches herself when you're on the the phone,
or just watching another episode of a mediocre television show.


Everyone's asleep while she sings the saddest songs
in the most **** of ways.
Except he's not asleep,
when they're ******* for days.

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'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."

I feel you trying
so much harder than I do
and it makes me smile

we both need something
in between these parts of us
so that we can fit

power in numbers
our eyes reach a conclusion:
one plus one is one

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!

lightning pulses through my pitch
strike me with your presence, stitch
the gaping ridges of the aftermath.

dark, is my prism.
weak, is my shell.
loss, is my repetition.

my gaze is shallow water
as the sun begins to bend.

when nothing grows, we hunt each other.
attempting satisfaction of the flesh, we eat meat.
carnivorous campers hiking through hail, we retreat.

parting clouds,
beams,
breaking through our moisture.
the rays build our spirits to cast
shadows.
evening arrives.

flames draw our photographs
and we're captured in thought.
candid sweetness, through darkness we fought.

today is the first rain since those memories
and everything I swore I couldn't feel last
winter comes rushing, swinging limbs,
swinging branches and I'm barreled.
all boxed up in the lack of things.
swinging gently before the snap,
my body descends
as I open my wings for flight
there's no surprise in my eyes
as the past repeats itself for I am
punished by gravity every time
I surrender to survive.

relationship vacation

love trials // take one (year)

relationship inflation

loves cost // takes two (people)

my projections are reflections
of all within my vessel
pushing outward.