I think of thoughts and meanings
and how they mean nothing

Things are simple,
just to an extreme

The ground digs into my sacrum
and I can't get up

*Just a bunch of young folks
whistling about happiness

Some things work
and some things don't move at all

Remember that cogwheels
remain turning in every joint

These smitten mittens
will forever web
my phalanges

Shove my hands
into an icebox
and I'll need
that temperature
forever

I'm not afraid of Hell
because it's where I've always lived

I'm more afraid of Heaven,
and having to return home.

I always have myself,
I'll never leave
I am my crowd,
now surf me.

For you, conversation is a one way sign
staked in the ground
showing what you know
You're the sign and I am the universe
I'm pretentious and ignored
When I shine a flashlight in your
already blind eyes
it burns but you wouldn't know
You don't even know
what a red-meated human being
smells like
but you know the contours of your
own brain

Now tell me,
What do I know?

How can you call me a hippie
if I don't know
how to love?

Wasting wine
with a glass
full of time.

My fears are on the market,
but all bets are low.

Sometimes I turn my head and pretend someone's there.

When I was young,
I used to always think
that the sky was crying when it rained

It was lonely and everybody always went inside
when it needed people the most

So when it rains,
I go outside and spend time with it
and catch raindrops on my tongue
like I'm kissing the sky.

Nothing in my belly
but shadows and rivers

and I'm lucky
that all I feel is shivers

Sometimes I forget
that things make
sense, sometimes

I don't miss the snow
I don't miss the cold
I miss the many layers
but there are so many other fabrics
to cover me up

The sun says I don't need any

Not everything is coming together

but there will be performances anyway

improvisation

How old are you, again?

NoTimeNoTimeNoTime

Hello, I'm silent and weird

I hope you still like me

Actually I don't care

Come watch, Come wait, Come see

Come On

Icicle mornings
under kitchen tables

At least I'm not alone.

You can't
find what
you don't
look for

I don't
see you
anymore

I'm not
even
looking
anymore

Outlines of necklines
I would never wear

Shadows against grass blades
creating patterns on our backs

Scars of the past
for new nails to scratch

Sight of new features
and new heights of new creatures
through the lens of Polaroid cameras
instant
pictures portraying perfect
candid questions
and candid feelings
of sneaky smirks
on a sidewalk
of sneaking peeks at quiet quirks

I picture us as
picturesque
I picture brusque
flawless awkwardness

I'm a feral child
and suddenly,
I'm home

Buried next to me,
your head soaking wet in the clouds
thrash it near and far
until it rains on my brains
splattered on the sidewalk
too far from the stars

You tried leaning on me
when I was already falling down

Life never taught me how to love
but I hate you,
so at least it showed me how to feel

In the end,
it all comes down to the fact
that I'd rather be a ghost than an angel

Don't touch me.
Don't tickle my mind and relive my past.
I was yours;
let's compare and contrast
the sequel to the original mask .
It's not your task to measure what I lack.
It's your nature that tells you to attack.
It's time to release the reaper from it's leash.
No coincidences; only consequences.

The rainbow is the same as the unicorn
and all the other invisible feelings
in a fairy tale

Memories of that rhinestone choker
loose around my neck

Choke me like you like to be choked
A choker with rhinestone eyes and
hands clasped tighter than a rhinestone choker

Thinking about the meaning behind things and how people hear them differently, like how ppl hear them differently, like how people heere them differently, like how people hear dem differently, like how people hear them diffrinly.

and see them a little more unclearly, like yesterdays crystal-future-seeing-glass orbs

and thinking about teammates and how they work together, but think alone, and there's nothing there in the air or to wear and tear at together anyway

and thinking about teammates and their roles and their lines and their act and their heights and how all of these futures are lonely

thinking about strengths all tacked up on a bulletin board of connect-the-dots exercises

thinking about connect-the-dots stories and who is listening

Raise your glass
to all the Oscar winners
that know how to cry,
but keep your glasses under the table
for all the criers that know how to act

I want to be
where time
only exists
in the sky

I guess, in the end, we all just have to accept that the universe is weird and never on anyone's side; that everybody sees things differently and that things are never going to be how we imagined or how we want them to be. If they are how we want them to be, they're probably better than we ever imagined. When they're not it ***** and is heartbreaking. It is for me anyway, but that's the beauty of it. It probably isn't for somebody else. Jealousy and nostalgia are beautifully ugly creatures. Goodnight.

and suddenly my heart doesn't weigh so much anymore

We were a cold case.
--emphasis on the "cold".

"I'm not a ******* villain," he said as he walked down those lonely staircases and out the door
I wasn't a lover,
I was a victim

A serial killer with an appetite for hearts
holding captive his next hostage,
ready to chew her heart and spit it out

Being a person
is becoming a bit
too complicated
and a bit
too difficult

It's the thrill of floating in an ambulance
knowing the end is near
but the feeling of flying

I don't deserve love
because I've never given any out
but how can I begin to share love
when nobody is willing to share it with me?

**** this longing and missing and nostalgia for the past
I'm being cruelly punished for the worst of crimes
that I can't seem to figure out how to not commit.

and so I'll wallow and dream those sweet wonderful nightmares
of you and you and you and you and you and you and I.

*******.
Kiss her neck and her ribs and the middle of her chest
and drink wine and lay in her lap and distract her with kisses
while I drink and feel sick to my stomach
and more worthless than those days when my mother tied me to a leash.

*******.
and I'll dream nightmares I can't control
of hard kisses and your cherry pepper voice
while you laugh at the thought of how pathetic I am
and not give a **** about whether or not I'm still alive

Your laughter will haunt me and hold me to the ground.

****/..
I can'teven see anymore throuthg the clouds in my eyes
not that you give a single ****.

I drag myself on these legs
when I don't even know where
I'm going to.

You have a new favorite
and I'm not even the next best thing anymore

I don't believe in consequences
and the sky has been crying for days

And I keep having someday dreams
and someday never comes,
it's just a story my hand can't stop scribbling down on paper

I don't believe that dreams come true
and I don't believe in someday dreams
and I don't believe in consequences
and I don't believe in meaningless things

My affection and attention was tasted
and wasted
and now I'm wasted all the time
always in more way than one.

The last time I was here
your hand was in mine

I wish everybody spoke a language foreign to me,
That way my understanding wouldn't be biased by words
and I would speak only with my body
and listen to the beautiful melody of tongues

I'm so sick of blinking
especially when the darkness is so sweet
I hate that good things only last a second
like we only lasted a blink
and I only felt better for a blink

It's agony to see you creating memories with somebody else
but it's even worse to have to be with somebody else.

No need for sunglasses
with no tears hide
and no sun too bright
that it burns my eyes

don't cry/you're almost home
I ******* LOVE FRENCH TOAST
almost. almost. almost. home. don'tdon'tdon't cry
stop. crying.
don'tcryyou'realmosthome
IloveyoulikeIlovefrenchtoastwit­hmaplesyrupinthemorning
but I don't know how to make french toast
you just crack some eggs and mix them with milk, you idiot.
Stop crying. You're almost home. French toast is at home.
No it's not. There's no cinnamon. I need cinnamon. I only like my french toast with cinnamon and vanilla.
that's a lie. You love french toast. Any kind of french toast.
You love it because it's french. I love french kissing.
No that's a lie, I love hard kissing.
No you don't.
I love you
Stop. You don't. You love french toast in the morning with maple syrup.
I love my french toast with cherry peppers
That's disgusting. Cherry peppers don't go on french toast. They taste disgusting.
You like french toast more than insecure cherry peppers
No. yesyesyes. NO. YEEESSSS.
Don't cry you're almost home.