I have the mouth of a whale
so come crawl inside.

I'll eat you up;
wrap your body in my skin
like a tuxedo on New Years Eve
Wear my bow as your tie
and inhale my blood like wine

Dance Freely

Control my mind
and leave some of your mind in mine

When you crawl back out
and walk away, drenched wet in my spit,
you'll leave my skin in the pile of ***** laundry
on your bedroom floor.

Dance with me
my shiny new friend...
until we rust.

A place built for two with an eternally vacant cushion.

Battle your venomous creatures as I preach to the preacher creatures.

I look at the sky though my heart's been put to rest below the earth,
along with my conscience--- waiting for it's promised rebirth.

I know about forgiveness and how it's impossible to forget.
I know about mistakes, but somehow it's impossible to regret.

These are the days when my head can't find the clouds
and my batting lashes can't even black out my troubles anymore.

The parade is down the street,
Nobody's tossing sweets at my feet,
because there's wet cement on my front step
and my legs are short.

Do you realize
it's so lunar?
Making sounds that don't form words.
And I've tried out the consonants more than once
and all I can hear is the silence--
      louder than any sirens.

Do you realize
that although there's a cyclical melody never ending
I still only hear the silence?
Be my knight in white satin...
     but you can never pull off such an airy fabric.
Even though we're both so lunar,
    we are different oddities in different frequencies.

Do you realize
any of it?

But it doesn't matter
because nobody knows
and nobody cares.

But I guess I'm witit.

I'll run my hands
through my wet and clean hair
to scrub away the blood
crusting under my fingernails.

I've always remained in dichotomy
while other souls remained in the universe.

I've always had two,
but not because I had to.
things have always just happened in twos
while other souls remained in a world of waltzes and triplets
without ever capitalizing or utilizing any of it.
Rather they capitalize and utilize all the means to disguise the lies they use to hypnotize the tiny guys under their gargantuan feet.

I've always exercised contingency like its some type of emergency.
but my options are all always only heads or tails.
Let me *** your di so my options aren't just to live or die.
Because until sharing is caring we will never prevail.

I'm restlessly creating calamity,
creating comedy through my restless tragedy,
and unless your majesty dismisses me from my mission of creating maladies I'll never create the melody in which my face yearns to sing, and I'll continue super-imposing the many faces I have, never fathoming if my face is nothing but a window dressing,
messing up its potential to be sunkissed,
dismissed by any opportunity my hands have of discovering if my face is upside down or backwards or fits right at all.
But it has managed to adapt, obstructing my view...
bringing the dimensions of distance and all the backs in front of me into focus.

There are no faces in back of me
no faces facing me
only backs in front of me
and my back is to the wall.

Sometimes I see the world as if I were a tower.
Not looking down on things, for I have no chin,
and not seeing the things below at all.
My eyes are the tallest story windows
and no people can upset me
all I see are the clouds and the birds and
the other tower people gazing mindlessly.

Hearkening whispers that remind me of footsteps;
awaiting them to be yours---
I'm ashamed, defeated on all fours.
I'm crestfallen because I'm certain
     that I am devastatingly unsound---
            nose stuck to the ground.

I have a mood indigo so abiding it's embarrassing.
My heart is colliding and subsiding to this pain.
I hear one tick and imagine that it's the lights;
      a plight to know this night hasn't died---
           but it never is one.
I'm pretending its all a burlesque
      but repressing the truth that it never is that picturesque.

It's never a picture show.

I dream unsoundly,
and now my world is despondent and unsoundly.
Here I stand, invisible and indigo.
I've been indigo since "my baby said goodbye."
I'd call myself Ivonne
     but nobody would even care to know.

Regret for
slipping on cowboy boots
and sitting at your kitchen table

Regret for
allowing you to make me complete,
because it only gave you something whole to rip.

I miss the heat
that wasn't humid
and the cold
that was
a cool breeze

Come be my cloud
that keeps me comfortable
like you were before

I'm so uncomfortable

From the rap CD
to living in this trapped city,
we've created a rhapsody
that nothing less than pretty
could keep from running happily

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

This is my left hand.
It met Mr. Right.
He was your right hand.
They fit together just right.
But Mr. Right hand left
And now my left hand
doesn't know
how to be left alone
now that Mr. Right isn't home.

Squashing bugs with cigarette butts
and dancing with mannequins.

Finding movement
in a sea of stiff limbed darlin's.

The flood is here,
that I asked of an empty sky.

Forget it sky,
you always know better than I--
         who has never dried out enough to die.

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.

Squeeze, pull, and twist.
Someday it won't hurt.
You can test me all you want.
But I'll always be unsure
of the pain.

I'm fly by night;
brief, unreliable, and shady.

Everybody is psychotic
in this unbalanced neon creation
some would call the universe

And nobody gives a **** about you


Especially you.

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

What's the use of a weapon
When I have no ammunition?

I can hold a  weapon
I can worry people with it
I can feel strong
Fool people.

And what's the use of having a weapon
When I have no aggression?

I can let it build up inside of me
I can see people look at me
Because I know the build up is making me shake
and they don't know why I do that.

Instead of owning a pointless weapon
I'll be a horrible person
Evil even

Because what's the point of being nice
When the evils have everything to gain and nothing to lose?

So this time I'm going to be evil

I'm going to load my gun and give it away.

One was when we were together after the good days ended
It was in my kitchen
We were both just lingering in Alonedom
and then all of a sudden my head was on his shoulder
and I don't know how we got there
but we stayed there
and it wasn't one of those still embraces
we were moving together in place.

The other was another time
that I cannot mention
without trembling.

My cinematic eyes
only win oscars
when they're sad.

I can still feel energy in us,
it's pumping my blood.
I'm not tired yet.

But if your energy pumps my blood
away from us and onto the shore,
I can't stop it without creating a hurricane.

So lay yourself to rest on the beach.
Let your mind rest, too.
Forget about me.
Wade in the water when your ready.

I know you prefer the crashing water
when it's closer to your ankles,
I just wish you could hold your breath long enough
to swim through the depths of my non-rushing blood.

Funk is just a mixture of jazz and hip-hop.
Jazz is just a mixture of ballet and modern and funk.
Modern has a little ballet in parallel with release.
It's all the same to me.
It's movement.

There's a city in front of you
and all you can see
is how crooked the buildings look
and their *****, rotten teeth

I see everything all around
and everything in between
and it's all stunning to me.

Under the island is where I sleep,
beneath the lonely and the starving
and the bugs biting bare feet.

There's an eye on the back of my neck
and in order to let it see,
I stretch my spine up to the sky;
my nose aiming at the bullseye straight ahead.

I'm scared of what's behind
and I don't want the hauntings to make my eye blind,
so I hang my head
and curve my spine into an arch,
so my my eye can see the sky instead.

I'll get a hunchback from my lonely march,
but my eye will never have to see my past.

I lay awake at night
and think of nightmares
and these nightmares
are my lullaby

Then I fall asleep
and have real nightmares
about waking up
and being in reality

When I wake
I daydream of the evils
that sing me to sleep
and my reality is the nightmare I dreamt about last night

I make my bed
and as I lay in it
my nightmares begin
to serenade me again.

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

I hope that next year
you talk to your girl
about last years girl
and how crazy she was
and you make her feel so special
by telling her she's better
than last years girl,
like you told me
about last time's girl
and how crazy she was
and how you made me feel so special
by telling me I'm better
than last time's girl,
like how you probably told last time's girl
about how crazy last season's girl was
and you made her feel special
by telling her she's better
than last season's girl.

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.

I try so hard
I try all the time
I try
but I don't try to do something
I try to do anything

I try so hard
to be anything
I try to be me
but I'm not myself at all

I try to be different
but not from anybody else
I try to be different from somebody
I try to be different than myself

I try to be honest
I try not to be false
I try to be true
I try to be you

I try to hate you
I try to create you
I try to be different than you
because I try not to
try to be you

I try so hard
I try all the time
I try to decide what
I try to do

I try so hard
to be something effortless

I normally wouldn't do this
but I'm different than before
and you told me this
as if I didn't know, but It's true
because I didn't know
that I'm different in ways
I never wanted to be.

I'm obsessive and possesive
but let me tell you
I disagree
But it doesn't matter what I think
because you will always think
that I'm obsessive and possesive
and maybe I am.

Although this makes me sad
because obsessive and possesive
are things I never wanted to be
But let me tell you
it's not the saddest thing about this thing

What makes my heart sink
is not what you think
but what you like best
and what you like best
takes a needle to the balloon in my chest
because what you like best
is the old me.

You like me best when I hate me
So I guess I can give you a call
Whether that is when I hate me
or when I ain't me
I don't know
But I'll let you know.
Either way,
I'll give you a call
when I fall.

Love is but a ticklish curiosity,
Let it faintly flurry away

Am I a puppet of a woman,
or a woman of a puppet?

Everything and nothing all at once
The floor supports this paper
The paper supports this pen
This pen supports my hand
My hand supports my thoughts

The floor supports everything
It catches us when we fall
We should love the floor without fear
Even though it's hard... it doesn't mean to be, I swear
We should understand that
the floor will always be there
If we fall through, there will be another ground

Even if it is far away
and if our breath is caught with the fall
we were still supported, just a little too late
The ground just wanted to be there
and it was.

We take it for granted
It doesn't mean to hurt us
It's always there.

The floor and I play the trust game.

When I was a kid I had dreams I was being attacked by flowers.
I had dreams.
I had dreams.
I had dreams.
When I was a kid I had dreams I was being attacked.

What is it?
Wouldn't you like to know?
Well, I'm not going to tell you because I like to be mysterious.

Numbers mean nothing to me and neither does tomorrow.
Tomorrow's always new to me and I'm always unprepared for it.
But that's spontaneity isn't it?
and I've always wanted to be an anomoly.
It's always new.
It's a new day...
tomorrow.

I was dipping my toe in water that didn't have a temperature. There was a string choking my joints between my toes and where my foot began. It was a weight with a heartbeat. It was alive and pulling me under. And then the weight moved through my body and into my chest and I couldn't breathe... but I wasn't suffocating either.
I could sense black shadows all around me and I could feel my body twisting and contorting itself against them.
Black shadows.
Black shadows.
Can you sense the black shadows?
They live your closet, you know.

Colors mean nothing to me either.
And now the colors are colder and cooler and I'm from a different place.
And all these places I've been:
All the restaurants
the bathrooms
through the doors and windows
to church that one time;
they don't seem important anymore.

And they said it was all my fault knowing it wasn't at all.
They're evil
and selfish
and victims of all the paper filling up their ugly paper hearts.

When I was a kid I had dreams I was being attacked by flowers.
I had dreams.
I had dreams.
I have dreams.
I still have dreams.
I still have dreams I'm being attacked.

The day finally came
when the sky is light at midnight
I wish you would hold me like you used to
because you're the only one that knows how to hold me right
but you found someone else that you want to hold
because it's light at midnight
and my everything's gone
and I'm just some **** that you used to know
that you don't know is still alive
that you don't think about with your tongue in her mouth

Not a doubt in my mind
that I can't go on

You've serenaded me into a comotose slumber.
I'm continuously sensing lullabies whilst paralyzed.
I'm too terrified to speak; too timid to even mumble.
Your intonation is so soothing; a banshee in disguise.

I'm stuck asleep in this in-pain asylum built of thorns.
Dreaming of the agenda I've never been capable of.
So turn the lights out in the tornado haven in my insane and in-pain brain,
and never admonish the fact that this pain is a continuous refrain.

The fires of my desires are cornered and defeated,
smouldering beneath the timber of my emotions.
I know you could never be lighter fluid for me,
but with our incandescent splendor blown out we can still go blindly through the motions.

My reveries never used to be this empty, and now they're becoming hollow with my conscience;
and these hollow empty chances are drying out as I continue to discouragingly pursue you.

You'll never envisage your face as I see it, and you'll never envisage why this bliss makes me weap.
I'll never have the most alluring face to you,
and my cold shoulder only monotonously lulls you peacefully to sleep.

And now it's to everyone's amusement that I can't manipulate my liquor anymore.
I'm so messy hahahahahahahaha.
So they prevail, standing as if they're boulders upon my shoulders,
compressing my heart deep into my intestines.

So now my love is growing slender
as yours becomes a pretender
and my whispy love surrenders as I surrender to this alcoholic ******.

The grains of my affinity rest in your palm and you spread your fingers and let them fall.
I could beseech you to clench your fist, but I won't.

I'm your lover you don't have to love
as my heart is left hanging above.
It's high and dry;
too weak and too shy.
So tie me to this clothes line
and hang me out to dry.

It's not that these me and you shoes are too large to fill,
they're just two different sizes
and much too awkward
for anyone else's feet to fit into.

Always pressing flowers
Attempting to beautify the dead

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.

Examine the spit puddles
you made on the floor
you walk on
because they'll be gone
by morning.

Ain't got no one,
and I could tell you
that I don't need anyone,

but I'd be lying.

I am waiting for somebody to stretch my skin
The flesh that surrounds my mouth
Take the corners and pull them with force
but they will only bounce back to their place

So try again, but this time bring tools
bring tacks and tape and staples and glue
Anything to sustain this shape that's so new
I only ask this of you because I'm confused

My feelings and desires are never the same
They're above, underground, inflated, and punctured
I can only put my feelings into words this way:

I Wish I Could Feel Good Anymore

The light is so bright that I can't see your face
and your voice is so loud I can't hear what you say
and your touch is so strong that I feel nothing at all
and your words are too small yet too big to hold
You are far too smart, which is why you're so wrong.

He came over over to my house
Soaked up toxins like a sponge
A drunken drive that took an hour
I love him
for coming back to me.
Muffled "Darling" in the morning through
a mouth full of slanderous deception
He brushed my hand
He held it in mine
I stroked his back and traced his shoulder blades
We behaved like the lovers we are
and misbehaved like the children we are
and it was summer rain
and he told me he liked
just lying next to me
and being in the same room
I love him (whatever the **** that means)

A millisecond later
He told me he has someone else
He told me he hopes I **** myself
"I hope you **** yourself"
"I hope you **** yourself"
"I hope you **** yourself"
"I hope you **** yourself"
Maybe I will
but it won't be because of him
He doesn't deserve the satisfaction
of being the reason
why I hope I **** myself

*"A little encouragement for the morning. I have a feeling you'll need it. [He] has stolen enough of your life and energy. This is the time when you become strong and take charge. No more will you suffer emotional damage spewed from him. You're bigger, and stronger than that, even if you don't know it. You are done. Forever. No more. He's gone; erased. You are free."

As the rain dives onto my window,
it puts its mouth up against the glass
and screams the unnerving truth;

I am long passed being somebody's rose
I've been picked and left to be pressed in a book
I don't have roots to keep me stable in the ground as the wind blows
I've been dried out and left to die.
Forgotten.

Shower me with presents of your presence
Heal me, if only for a second.
Feel me, if only for a stroke.