I like how you feel beneath my skin
itching and tickling my organs
crawling your way up the side of my body
fingernails digging into my muscles with every step
Even though it's uncomfortable
knowing you're there
The fact that I'm aware
makes me content

She sees him from across the highway
He's looking back at her
one hand in his pocket, the other spanning a wave

So she blows him kisses and gestures her heart
but it can't possibly reach him
because cars and semis stretch them apart

so she spins in circles and sees what surrounds
the sight isn't nice
Because he's not around

she analyzes her chances at dodging a bullet
and admits that they don't look good
But she decides that her happiness will always be worth it

She puffs out her chest and takes in some air
and sees him smirking at her
She closes her eyes as the wind blows her hair

Wind below her feet, she skates across the road
she's never felt this rush before
and faster than expected, across from him she showed

Proud of the miracle that brought her across the highway
She reaches for the hand by his side
But he turns his back and walks away.

It's a book ripped in two at the spine
so I don't know how to read it
I try to put the pieces together
But they will always be in two
I have tried everything, from tape to glue
All I ever make is a sticky mess
and uncovered seems
So I guess I'll just read them separately
but the prologue and epilogue will never go together.

I'm the sun behind the clouds
when all you know is shade
So as you search for a lamp
to enlighten your darkness
I'll just wait for these clouds to drift away
so you lay on your back
and blades of grass tickle your arms
You imagine shapes in the sky
that try to hide
The rays that make up the shape of a face.

Love is chapped
It's rough and enflamed
I lick its surface with my tongue
My saliva only just stung
So as I wait for the flames to disitigrate
from my unprotected lips
Your balm fills in the cracks
and sheilds over them
and the rocky terrain becomes calm.

Your words are a dagger that pierce through my skin
your feelings eat at my brain
My feelings reside in the knife in my hand
that I use to feed the hole that speaks in my chest
I removed it and did my best to sew the seems
but my stitching is messy and crooked
If you lift up my shirt you will see that the mouth is still there
it's teeth will grit and bear
A smile is never fair
but as long as you can see it's teeth
I will say it's a grin for now.

I'm in a coal mine of cold minds
Icycles hang from the ceiling
Stalagmytes byte my iyceberg heart
and stalacytes fill in the hole they ate.

If I
freeze time
nothing can
happen, nothing
wrong, nothing
bad, nothing
good, nothing

strong.

I was born blind
I can wait for somebody to
put their sight in my sockets
But then
how will they see
what I see?

My skull is a compact living space
There isn't much room to house this jungle of jumble
It's too full of empty places
Spaces sheltered in glass spheres
These marbles of lonliness roll around the floor
and around the corners of this maze
never stopping for the silence
Because peace is impossible to achieve
when stillness is constantly attemped
The marbles quiver in themselves
creating a twister that trembles
my temples
They toss information into the different basins of facts
Mixing the senses until a new liquid is created
and poured into a coffee mug
and waits for a slide to throw itself down
So it sits in my head
Until I'm ready to drink in down.

I don't understand
the mechanics behind your forehead
Often I believe
that if I squint and crinkle the corners of my eyes
I can send beams through the wrinkles of your demise
that engraves itself above your confused brow.

Sometimes I think
that our creases look alike
But then I squint again
and notice the depth of mine
They fold over one another
and cover the other waves
keeping them hidden under
permanently engraved

Yours are shallow with age
and develop backwards
the Ben Button of faces
that with a whisper is always heard

So as my cracks get deeper
and my hair gets grayer
You will get younger with maturity
So as I squint and look for your machinary
I realize it is covered and protected
by your wise youth.

I like this a little bit but not enough to be sure of it and I can't stand for you to see me fall.
So I'll just lie to everyone and not admit that the world has won and I won't let them in at all.

Because this world is so much bigger than I and all I ever really do is try to find my mind but I lose it everytime just because I'm maddened by every sigh.

I get tangled in these sheets alone and get strangled by this dial tone and that is all I'll ever know.
Try not to mis-create with all this hate but I always make and relive mistakes and this all I think I can take

Because this feeling is so much bigger than I and all I ever really do is lie to find my mind but I lose it everytime just because I'm maddened by your beautiful sigh.

And these are my confessions on a canvas sheet in an exhibit for every critic to see and they can break me down to the ground just as long as I go with such a deafening sound and they can kick me down to the ground just as long as I crash with such a deafening sound.

I like you quite a bit and yes I know that I'm sure of it but I can't stand for you to let me fall.

I'm looking at your face
I'm a creep from afar
You have no idea what I do at night
When all who is watching is up in the stars
And it's not what you're thinking
because I'm not like that
and you know that because I show that
But sometimes I think I shouldn't have
And sometimes I wish I could change
Everything about myself
So I could be more like your face
That I creep on with grace
I wish I could change
that I want to change
everything about my grace
Yes I wish I could change
because you want me to change
so I can end up in a different place.

This fits nicely into the story of my life
A nice chapter leading up to the ******
The ****** that wasn't as long and steady as it should have been
A ****** that took a vertical drop to an unresolved conclusion
This fits nicely into the story of my life
It took up a few pages
But I'll have to wait for the publication of the sequal
to find out what happens next

This rough draft of Part II is a bad sketch
There is grammer errors and mispellingz
My punctuation. Is off as, well as my punctuality
But the sequal will be released in time

As the author of my story,
I'm not sure any words will start with the letter you.

Same time
Same place
Same setting
Same moment
Same dialogue
Same breathing
Same heartbeat
What's different?
Not you
Not me
Not conversations
Not our breathing
Same difference

I feel the warmth of the pool between the underbelly
of my eyeball and the lashes long enough to
graze my cheekbones
It takes all the strength I have left not to force their
sisters to greet them
For if this meeting takes place, my weakness will
be broadcasted
A live performance by the liquid Cirque Du Soleil
As the freaks tumble down my cheeks
So to avoid this showcase
my freaks contort themselves to stay in their
warm bed
And I try my hardest not to blink.

The thought bubbles of my mind pop and multiply
They scraggle around playing bumper cars
Avoiding the inevitable contact
they ram each other and bounce right back
Hopefully Sunday force will cause them to morph.

With every end of something comes a change of color
With every end of anything comes a change of ground
With every end of what is left comes a change of pace
With every end of a sure thing comes a change of time.

Deep in the swamp, stuck in the muck
with weeds growing beyond where I reach
My knees are glued to mud, cemented
and water is creeping up to my chest
Anxiety rising with each creeping inch
as bugs swarm around, I feel their pinch
This lake rids of them, but what is underneath
is grimy and flesh-eating and searching for me
I look up but the sky is covered in thistle
so I submerge my head as sea monsters look at me
I go up for air but vines start choking me
as eels and mermaids snap at my ankles
Everywhere I breathe I am trapped in shackles.

I don't know what I'm looking at
a masterpiece of acoustic vision in front of my eyes
but for all I had known
there were trap doors slamming themselves
shut, letting off dust into the crystal air

For all I had known
this freckle on my kneecap is a trickling spider
making its way over the hill
because it's been climbing so long it's footsies
are blistering and it just wants to
freefall into nothing.

For all I had known those voices of
children outside are trapped in my head
They don't exist because nothing is real
and nothing is real because it's safer fake

For all I know now is all I knew then
It's just altered and makes sense now
because I know what opportunities I left
to die dry
because I didn't water them with tears
I made an ocean instead.

I chase the waves and ride the current
but my feet are stuck in the sand
as I stand on the shore
the tide turns around my core
sinking my ankles under more

The water crawls up to my knees
Leaving scratches from the shells beneath it's fingernails
it ties them together with ease
I sway forward and my body derails
I no longer breathe the breeze.

Her hand was cold
It was winter and snowy
He was standing on the beach
His hand was warm
She wanted him to warm her hand
But in time it would freeze and get frost-bitten
So she put a glove on it
And another held onto it
If he comes into the snow
she'll take off the glove
and her skin will be untouched
for him to touch.

I don't need a doctor to tell me I'm apart
I just need a paradox to help me find my heart
and I don't need a dog to show me what to see
I just need my hands to feel around the dark
and touch what is unseen

I don't need a critic to tell me what is good
I don't need society to tell me what I should
I don't need you to tell what I know
But sometimes I would like you to remind me if you would
Because there are so many things I can't but I wish I could.

And I don't need a ribbon to tell me that I've won
because I know I can't improve if I won the first one
I don't need an apology to know that you are sorry
I just need you to feel it when you watch my back as I run
because I will feel it with every setting sun

But what I need can't be guarenteed
and what I know can't escape my greed
So I can be sad as I watch them go away
and when I'm done, I can take the lead.
and cut this necklace and drop the beads.

What a waste of time
This was the longest day of my life
There's only a few seconds left on the microwave
Count to sixty
Ready or not, here I come
Another year
Seems like yesterday
what time is it?
What's today's date?
three hundred and sixy five days
I remember when
I wished I was a big girl
I want to go back in time
This is the longest year of my life
Life is short.

I wait so long, I wait so long
Now all I say is 'So long, so long'
to all my future lovers
'cause I don't want no other

I look at her, shouldn't look at her
'cause I don't see myself in her
And I'm just being honest all the time
I'm scared of being honest all the time

Don't want to be like all the others
but they're all I think about right now
I hang around with all these lovers
I think about you and when and how

I challenge fate, I challenge fate
'Cause fate is something I create
for our current predicament
our unfortunate predicament

Don't want to be a mess like this
but I am sad and broken down
It's not supposed to happen to me like this
but I gave you the tools and showed you how

It's oh so cold, I feel so cold
I feel bitter, I feel so old
I search for a sugar-coated treat
to turn the bitter into something sweet

Something sweet, something sweet
You really are my something sweet
and I understand, I understand
Just wish I could walk with you hand in hand

Hand in hand, hand in hand
want you to hold my untouched hand
for now I'll wear a glove on it all the time
so nobody puts their hand on mine

and life goes on and on and on
It just keep flowing on and on
and I droan on and on and on
I don't want to move on, move on

There's everything to tell but no words to use
So I'm in that moment where nothing's around
But everything's inside, pounding at my chest to get out
Peeking through holes in my heart
because there aren't any windows
Even if there were I'd buy curtains and blinds
because that's just what I do
So if you find any words, give them to me
because I'm running out
because they run away from home
I wish I could go with those words
but they're somewhere at my feet
and I'm scared of going down.

I don't know anything at all
Sometimes it's hard to learn
to the point where there is no point
Give me a sharpener of sorts
So I can carve one

I stumble when I walk
Give me a map with a location to trip towards
Give me a beat to march to
So I can walk upright

My vision is blurred
I can only see in black and white
Give me some lenses so I can see what you mean
I need hearing eggs to listen correctly
I need a dictionary to understand definitions

If all of this is too hard to find
Then hide my face in your chest
and cover my ears
whisper in my ear what everything means
Tell me the right words and use them correctly
and I'll trust you blindly, without a sound.

There's a cauldron that sits in the basin of my chest
brewing up potions
whether they're poison or medicine
I never know
but I feel it boiling, bubbling slow
either result is magical
black or white
Right now it's as clear as the bubbles it makes
and they're coming out of the holes in my face
They pop in my ears
I blow them out of my mouth
they leak out of my eyes
and make puddles on the ground.

I am a believer of phantoms and all things undead
I am a skeptic of thoughts on a wire through my head
Fate balances on this tightrope and does dances and screams
and it seems it can only slice at my seams
So as I walk across this planet and stare at the moon
I am a believer of all that is happening too soon.

You always bring out the mess in me

The mess that has been collecting dust deep down


You rip it out of me and place it in my hands

For me to wipe clean

So I can look at my reflection and witness my flaws

That have been suffocated by pillows

You give my mess oxygen and allow it to breathe

The mess I have worked so hard to ******

But as it rests in my palms

I realize the innocence that could have died

The beautiful mess that makes me ugly

Is what you would rather see

So now when I see my reflection

I'm looking at the beautiful mess you've made of me.

We are all selfish creatures

shellfish lurking in the depths of the sea

wanting what we know is wrong

lying about the shallow depths of our emotions

signing forged signatures and forged lies

forging these words that come out of our glossy covered up lips

glossing our covered up stories

our tall tales of princesses and fairies

in fantasy land, these are whimsical creatures

in reality land, we are nothing but human beings

that forged signatures say are whimsical.

Message in a bottle
with a cork plugged into the top

sealing it shut, suction tight

Nothing can penetrate the bond between the cork and the glass

I wrap my hand around it,

my palm pressed against the grooves underneath the cork

which press into my palm,

creating more grooves

However much I heave,

however tight I contract my muscles

until my body quivers as my lungs expand,

until there is nothing left for me to do but release

Release my muscles

Release my lungs

Release my hope

Because your bottle will always stay closed

Nothing will be discovered if its desire is to be a mystery

So I'll set this bottle on the rocks at my feet

I'll leave it there, waiting for a wave to wash up onto the coast

I hope it takes it away with its tide

so it can see the world from inside the glass

All I have left are the grooves on my palm

all I have left are weaker muscles and exhausted lungs

to remember the message I never recieved

That rests somewhere distant

never to be read

protected by a cork.

Life is a foreign language


you can't understand it

you listen to it, dumbstruck

you watch the way the lips curl

you hear the tongue roll on the roof of the mouth

you are confused and frustrated by what's happening around you

However

when surrounded by this language

it slowly becomes familiar

you cannot translate it

but you notice ****** expressions

you feel the mood of the conversation in front of you

you start to recognize certain words

you can speak enough terms to make it through the week

your vocabulary expands, and weeks turn into months

and months turn into years

you begin to coast

ride the waves across the ocean

resting on your back, squinting into the sun

until sand scratches your back

and around you, everybody speaks a common language

a language you have taken in for years

a language you can now speak fluently

a language that suddenly makes sense

because you have become wise in your years

suddenly, everything makes sense.

This road is forked so I walk straight

Left is only right, but opposite

and right is only wrong, but different

I am talking in circles

I am walking nonsense

I am singing television

and watching harmonies in solitude

I am walking on my hands

I am writing with my toes

I dream in a reality

and live in a fantasy

what is right in front of me

comes at me from behind

a bullet skewers my back

while a knife shoots through my chest

I paint sculptures and statues with crayola

and I build Mona Lisa with bricks and stones

I dig to the depths of Mount Everest

I climb to the top of Death Valley

I dance in stillness to silence

I sleep in motion to beats

I talk to myself

I listen to you.

because my perspective is subjective

and my synapses has the bitter taste of molasses

that leaves goosebumps on your tongue

you don't understand the magnifying glass

that controls my mind

that focuses in on the small specks

that when looked at so closely

become the skyscrapers that i stand upon

a ghost that a gust of breath

blown at the back of my neck

through a tubular straw

can throw me through the ground

so you don't comprehend my perspective

because.

I want to see the world through skylit retinas

that are covered at night by a thicker comforter

than the one that rests upon the crevice in my side.

I want the electrical tape that holds my skeleton together

to be replaced with foreign joints

I want the muscles that spiral around my ivory bones

to be built of tough leather rather than the feather

that protects nothing what so ever.

I want the blood beneath my flesh

to be purple rivers that send shivers

down my sticky taped up spine

I want my skin to be more than a blanket

that plays hide and seek with the lever in my skull

instead of crank it.

Maybe then

I'll be an unknown species

Maybe then

I will be discovered

Maybe then

I can peek my fresh eyes out

and be blinded by the sunlit skies

beyond the rocks of my cave.

They say that practice makes perfect

Well I'm almost perfect at being alone



I do my daily exercises


Walk down the city streets

Have lunch

Sit in corners

Ride the bus

My technique is improving every minute



I take pride in my natural talent

I am a prodigy

I don't need you.

This is an examination

a test of multiple choices

a test that requires long answers



it's an incomplete essay

without a conclusion

an essay with a forgotten thesis statement

a couple of main ideas creating a body



this is a test of right and wrong

this is a test of true and false



this is a test requiring you to fill in the blanks

requiring you to complete the sentence



this is a test of vocabulary

with unknown definitions



this is a test that you can study for

this is a test you can attempt preparation for

but you don't know the questions

until they are asked of you



this is an examination

this is life.

cracks in the pavement

shallow

insignificant

don't step on them

break your back

shallow

but if split apart

create a crevace

step on a particular

crack in the pavement

fall forever

hit the ground

look up

at the crack of white sky

visible from your place in the earth

realize that there is no latter to assist you

there you stay

there you live

creating a new lifestyle

careful

not to step

on any more cracks.

What is dark and depressing is bittersweet

as what I write is wrong

and what is wrong is right

As what is thrifty is hip

and what is popular is expensive

As the caffeine in my bloodstream helps me sleep

and what keeps me awake are my screaming dreams

As my clean face is a mask

and this foundation is natural

As dollar bills can be torn

and so can this paper waste

As ants are strong creatures

but I exterminate them with my smallest finger

As your words are so soft

but are breaking me to pieces.

Glitter rains down, frosting my home,

but only when the earthquake arrives

Shake my world

Turn it upside down

until I fall up into the sky

Until I splatter on the concave sphere

I see through it,

but the next galaxy is untouchable

So I rest my cheek upon the glass

wishing for a hammer to shatter these oxygen walls

For I have no destination past this constellation

because these glossy glass gates are a barrier

with hands keeping me separated from progression

secluded in an orb

As I lay in the glitter that is a blanket upon my back

my home is flipped and I float to the ground

waiting for the next earthquake to shake

until what is lost is found.

If I'm feeling it now
Much at all
If I've felt it before
If I've felt it at all
If I will feel it soon
If I will see that bittersweet moon
If I will die alone and
If it is shown that
I don't know anything on my own.

some day

you will realize

you are alot

like that person

you always hated

and you will

like them

alot more.

creativity is sometimes hard to find

but the only way to find creativity

is to be not creative in the first place

if you are already creative

then how can you find the creativity you already posess

discovering creativity

is one of the most rewarding feelings

so let the world be filled with uncreative minds

and let those minds

have the opportunity

to find the creativity

that was hiding

in the depths of their minds.

I am me

simple sentence

that no amount of words

can correctly interpret



you are you

you are different than me

simple concept

with a complex definition



we are close

but with a fair distance between us

these kilometers aren't always noticed

so you start your journey

over to me



eager at first

running at full speed

until your lungs shrink

and your pace slows



what you see in front of you

keeps getting further

it is just a mirage

you can't touch it

but you can see it

and sense its presence

and that will have to be good enough

for now.

Torn scraps of paper in a torn scrap of time

Both equally insignificant

yet have unseen potential

to create a masterpiece



Eyes glazing over both microscopic elements,

forgotten and unrecognized



Torn scraps of money

weigh down the pockets of peacoats,

feather light



We are blinded by bills and coins

not seeing the scraps that surround them

not seeing the materials they are made of

not building on those elements



A mountain of scraps builds,

having more benefits

than coins and bills.

eyelids drooping over the unseen pupils

they flicker and flutter as they fight to stay up

but once again

they collapse

too weak to carry on

they take a few seconds to pull themselves together

getting mentally prepared for their next attempt

and then with one more heaving breath

they muster the force within them to flip

revealing for a split second

a sea of green

that was hidden

so well

but the impact of the weight that rested upon them was too much

once again

the eyelids

were defeated

by

the unstoppable force

that was

sleep.

George sat down at a table for two

at the local coffee shop.

He is a heavy caffeine consumer,

seventy five years of energy

rushes with his blood



Cynthia is less of a coffee drinker.

George always buys her a small version

of what he is drinking.



He thinks she is beautiful.

One simple adjective

describing a very complex character



Thirty five

was the age he fell in love with

Cynthia



A metamorphosis

of a friendship

into more



They talk

and talk

talk some more

continue talking

about everthing

and nothing at all

all at once.



George has a daily routine:

Coffee with Cynthia,

drive home,

read the newspaper,

water the flowers,

clean the house,



and last



polish the urn above the mantel

containing the ashes

of Cynthia.

manual laborers all present

ready to begin

heart, liver, lungs, stomach

all here

ready to begin



each piling up bricks one by one

stacking them on top of each other

manual labor taking

seconds

          minutes

                    days

                          years



time flying by as the bricks keep piling up

held tightly by violet veins

squeezing the bricks close and tense



finally

after a decade of organic construction

a wall stands as tall as china's

visible by extra terrestrials on a distant world



but what was not visible was the familiar natural disaster

that stormed in from behind

coming in from the blind spot



this friendly natural disaster shook down the wall

it cut the veins with violent blades

and left to continue with its destruction of construction



the heart, liver, lungs, and stomach

watched their masterpiece crumble

down

into the earth.

gears turning

grinding

screaching

creating

a mechanical me



ingredients fold into a mixing bowl

a pinch

a dash

concocting a potion

poisonous to exposure



this liquidates in the basin of my mind

mixing with machinary

creating a technical malfunction



I will forget what I forgot to remember

I will try to explain

how I can't explain

why the static in my brain

has a constant refrain



but

all of this is hidden

under layers of flesh

disguising the deformity

under my skin.