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.

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

In the end
it all comes down to the fact
that I still listen to your music
despite how it makes me feel.

I am the master of arts and crafts
I am a creater of everything around me
I'll design the architecture and paint the roads
and I'll erase the clouds with my finger
and I'll mold people of clay and I'll make them linger
and I'll draw thought bubbles above their heads.
I'll write up some thoughts of appreciation
of all things unnoticed and noticed by me
Then I will sit in corners and look and see
this simple world that was created by me
and I'll see beauty in the small things
and my people will too
because I painted their eyes green
and brown
and purple
and blue
I think I'll paint some yellow eyes too.

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.

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

Spitting out blood
from my tongue
in which I've been biting
this whole **** time.

Does it taste alright
to you?

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.

Water balloon organs make up my shape
Swelling with emotional fluids
forever amplifying, squishing together
My emotions are no longer separate

My maudlin heart rests its head
on the shoulder of my claustrophobic lungs
They breathe heavily in the intimacy
of such a dangerous seduction
They're panting like a canine in heat
it's such a perilous defeat

All of these water balloons
Swelling with emotional fluids
Lose their shape when stabbed
by your dagger fingers
by your dagger teeth
by your dagger tongue
by your dagger words
They're so filled with holes
and my fluids flow freely
mixing together in a scarlett sea
a potion of swelling emotion
You and your daggers
are attracted to deformation
which is why you think my swaying back
that keeps me from standing upright
is so ****
At least my suffering is ****
Not that I have anyone to be **** for anymore

I want peacefulness
I want contentment
I want to wake up in the morning after the sweetest of dreams and live the day as a fantasy
I want to go to bed after a fantasy and dream the sweetest of realities
I want to not wonder and not have to think so hard to remember those fantasies that were so real
I want you to wonder and think hard all day long to remember me as a fantasy
I want you to search for me in every woman you meet
I want you to dream about me, think about me, try hard to remember me
I want you to care about me
I want to not care about you
I want you to to be constantly troubled by the fact that you can't remember what my voice sounds like anymore
I want you to be thankful that you at least have those voicemails on your machine as evidence
I want you to listen to them everyday and feel guilty that you do
I want you to feel guilty about a lot of things
I want to live in the same neighborhood as you and
I want you to wonder if I'm home every time you walk past my house
I want you to feel my cheek on your shoulder even when it's not there
I want you to not be able to listen to your favorite music anymore because of me
I want you to be nostalgic all the time
I want you to hate yourself for destroying me
I want you to not be able to sleep or eat or breathe because of me
I want nothing from you and everything from you all at once
I want to forgive you
I want to forget you
I want to go back
I want you back
I want to not hate myself for missing you
I want you
I want you
I want us
I want us to go back

Come back.

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?

Tomorrow never comes
Everyday is always today.

I speak with the silence that listens to the woes of all things,
wishing I could live one day in it's heavy life,
whispering in it's ear, "I want you."
And I wish all this silent liquor could be champagne,
but my hands know I don't deserve that sort of luxury,
and I wish my gambling was done at the races,
rather than at this blurry basement fold-out table,
but my barren heart does not deserve that sort of luxury.

And I know,
Who knows? Who cares?
And I know,
that this is all embarrassing for me.
I know. Who cares?

And now that the air does not hurt my face anymore,
I can't hide under layers of wrapping.
Let me put on a show for you,
even if you miss the whole performance.
Let me prepare a show for you,
so I can hideaway in a spotlight.

We are walking on familiar ground
in an unfamiliar climate.
We have done this before,
and it'll be the same beneath a burning sun.
I know. Who cares?

And I've given up the sky raining lavender,
and I've settled for being a weekend lover,
and I've settled for being only one type of friend.
Oh! darling, tell me if the sky cries purple for you.

I've been holding this knife against your flesh
for some time now, and you've never been able to feel it.
And finally, I put the pressure on the soft side
and was shocked to see that you bleed my type of indigo.

If only we had fallen and scraped our knees on the pavement together
and I could have seen that you're made of invisible indigo,
then I could have seen that our blood was born to bleed brown together.

So leave me be to lie awake,
wishing for sleep.
So leave me be in this shelter
that I thought would be my healer.
So leave it be to collapse on me,
keeping me warm.

And I ask that I get what I want for just this time,
when I know that good things don't happen to those
who believe that guilt is a small price to pay for happiness.

And now I lie awake thinking about all the people I know
that will die someday.
And all the ugly things that make this world beautiful,
And all the ugly toxins making my body and mind feel beautiful,
and how they could **** me someday if they wanted to.

These days I settle for lovers I don't have to love,
these days I know I couldn't if I wanted to.

The only thing you liked about me was my face

You make me remember why I hate being called beautiful

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

"Do your poems mean anything or are they just words thrown on paper?"
"I don't understand the question."
"I mean, did you actually think about it? Or are they just meaningless words you wrote down quickly?"
"Just because you write something quickly doesn't mean it doesn't mean anything."
"I just mean did you put thought into them?"
"I'm always thoughtful."
"I don't think you understand the question."
"You're right, I don't."

Playlist
Track 1: Intro
Track 2: Fingers Tapping Keys (Creating Words)
Track 3: One Way Conversations From the Driver's Seat
Track 4: Eye Contact
Track 5: Music From a Black Cab
Track 6: Poetry
Track 7: The Feeny Call
Track 8: Foreign Languages
Track 9: Secrets
Track 10: Heavy Breathing
Track 11: Rustling
Track 12: Tickled Laughter
Track 13: I Miss You Already
Track 14: Ambient Musicians
Track 15: Accusations
Track 16: Tears
Track 17: *******
Track 18: Hyperventilation
Track 19: I Miss You
Track 20: Biting Lip
Track 21: ******* (Reprise)
Track 22: Silence
Track 23: Static
Track 24: Wondering

DISC TWO:

In the end of it all I never try to search for answers to the riddle anymore,
and the same songs will always find a way to play,
unlike me.
How do they manage it?

I'm weak and already sleeping in the ground.

A.D.H.T isn't special anymore and neither is Vitiligo,
just like diabetes isn't anymore and neither is cancer or tumors
or depression or anxiety
anymore.

We're just here not appreciating each other like everybody else.

Every thought is a chemical imbalance in the brain
and everybody's insane.

If you're planning on poisoning me with sunshine
Give me an antidote of shades and blinds
ahead of time.

Your sun hurts my eyes when you leave it behind.

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've been driving for three hours now
I've been driving for three minutes
I would say I've been driving for three seconds
But I won't, only because I'm past the driveway
But I might as well have been driving for three seconds
and I should probably drive for three more days
Because it won't make a difference
It won't change the pace
of my day-to-day life.

She always told me not to drink and drive
He always told me too
I'm pretty sure they always say the same thing
But that was bad advice when it comes to this thing
This thing I'm going through

They should have told me not to think and drive
because they never told me not to
Now I'm thinking all the time
And drinking and driving is a crime
and the men with disco cars hunt for the criminals
who drink and drive
but I still manage to do the time
for what is not a crime.
the fact that I think and drive.

I only do this unhealthy thing
because you force me to
You crawl into my ears and make a bed on brain
and cover up my focus with your hands
It's like a game of peek-a-boo in frames
I sometimes take a peek long enough
to see a traffic sign
But I would be lying if I said
I remember staying in the lines.

I'll let you continue sleeping there
tuck yourself into my mind
I'll wish you goodnight and sing you a lullaby
But only if you let me drive
Only if you stop intoxicating me
with thoughts of you
and you
and you
and you
and you and I

Thank you for listening
You are my sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are grey
You'll never know dear
How much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away

Goodnight. Sleep tight.

I don't own any vases

but I like the look of dead flowers better anyway.

They are a better suitor.

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.

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.

I won't dance for life because life dances for me. I'll take its hand and share it's weight though, and together we will dance; I move to the rhythm while life creates the beat.

My skin tingles...
because my heart races
when it hears you say
I don't care to know how much you care

It tingles
when my heart races in an attempt to stay quiet

Everything tingles
when it's forced to stay quiet
because you refuse to hear its beats

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.

Graze of an elbow.
Grace of an elbow.
Trace of an elbow. We
Race to Hell, though.
                                      I have a
face that fell, though
if you couldn't tell.
                                     This
base is covering our old and beautiful tinkling bell.
                               Curl up with me inside my shell:

The one I built under our kitchen table.

The sterling stream that lines my sorrows
is never within stone's throw.
How many boulders away are you, my darling?
I yearn for you to grind my heart once more.
I need you to clip it's thoughtless wings,
for they're drooping and defeated by their lasting migration.

My heart is elephantine and my wings are hopeless
and they're abusing all of me for what is believably my eternity.  
My heart is dehydrated and cotton-mouthed,
It's tongue can not satisfy, for it's fangs are before it,
serrated by the bloodshed on our floor.
I could water my floral heart,
if someone put the watering-can in my hand,
but it doesn't know how to tread tears anymore anyway.

I am not satisfied.
Nor, can I satisfy
anymore.

I'm simply coasting through shapes and figures
to pass this paused time.
I have become a clown
that does not understand mortification any longer.
It's feelings have become hidden under a white face and red lips.

My tower of prospect has been thrown to the ground,
landing where my body was planted, stuck asleep.

They all say I deserve better.
I've been searching for better,
but it broke my wings and it broke my heart
and planted me at my own crime scene
******* me.

When there's nothing to say
I'll say nothing at all

But I'll say the same thing
When there's everything to say.

Nothing at all.

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

You never think they'll hurt you
until you have no heart

I wish I didn't hate you.
I wish I stopped thinking about you
I wish I could stop listening to your favorite song
and hear your opinions and light voice
roughly waving over the rhythm and strum of a simple guitar

But I can't,
So I think about you
thinking about someone else
in the way you used to think about me

And suddenly my heart is missing.

Happiness is no protagonist

I'm a villain

I'm a liar

and apathy is a hero

One of us had to change
I took the high road
You did too
Which I find strange

But
Now I guess we'll wait
for a compromise
or one of us
to change back

Hopefully this time
it's only one.

Stuck in a ceaseless circle
in an incessant cycle

All I want is a corner to curl up in.

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

All this time I've thought
that I miss my old friends.

Now I realize,
I just miss the feeling
of having friends.

Breath mints in my glove compartment

Remembering why I bought them

I never needed them

Pointless insecurities

I wish I was still insecure

I don't know how to go fast
because if I go fast it's
going to be bad

The bar is existant
but it's still blue
and I'm still crazy
but I HEAR you
and I remember this song
but I hate the melody
so stop frolicking your
voice over my brows
I don't want to look up
and I'll keep my head forward
because my eyes belong on
this side of my face
looking at somebody else,
so hush,
shhhhhhh
I don't care
This is beautiful
and soulful
and I don't care
I don't care
not at all

Go away.

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.

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.

Beautiful eyes were wasted on you
because you use them for all of the wrong reasons

You don't use them to see
You only use them to ******

Your eyes **** lovers
But somehow their beauty is never reduced

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.

You have beautiful eyes
     it's too bad you keep them closed
          and it's too bad you keep them clouded with tears
You have a beautiful mouth
     it's too bad you keep it closed
And I'm sure you have a beautiful voice
    but you glue your tongue to the roof of your mouth
And you probably have a beautiful body
     but you wear so many layers, nobody knows
And I know you have beautiful toes
     because you're never on them, you wave them in the air and show them off
And it's likely that your heart is heavy
    but you don't let people test its weight
And maybe your soul could be strong
     but you never let it out for exercise
And I'm sure other people could see you as I do, and feel the same way as I do
     but you never let them look at you

Because you live in the mirror
    and the only one that can see you is me.

This falling keeps me at peace,
because for one last moment
I am in one piece.
I am whole,
with the belief of no release.

Where's the chick habit
that's supposed to be clinging to me?
I don't have some chick habit of believing that
there's meaning to loving someone.

So come along, bro.
My love is your worst homie.

Bang bang bang.
I **** you.
Bang bang bang
I *******.

I'm a burnout,
burnt to the ground...
and I'm taking the forests with me.

And your the plastic decorations
that melt to the ground
in the aftermath of my flames.
I wish I could melt with you,
but my body is already made of ashes.

And the things I find morose have changed
from being suspended from classes
to just breathing and spending money...
and smacking *******' *****.
If you should try to kiss her,
remember that she'll soon turn to ashes.

And while we're young
we'll forget about the explosions.
Because she's always the new thing
and if you light her up she'll just be
a display of fireworks to you.

And I'm searching for the harvest within myself,
so that for once I can make things bloom
destroying them with an exploding boom.
mais la nuit est jeune
and it will always be young.

*So we wash and dance and showcase ourselves
using symbols like roses and arrows.

My whisper is a high pitched scream,
I can never seem to be soft enough.

And I've never been a lover of books
but I love what they've done for themselves.
And I've never been a lover of poetry,
but I'm an author and lover of words.

So kiss them for me,
because I'm exhausted.

Kiss them for me in the still sound of music
and I'll scream though I don't want to.

You are the light,
but I live in a comfortable cave.

I'm a fan,
letting all the ashes rush.

I'm a fan,
but not an addict.

I'm a fan,
creating movement of the wind.

I'm a fan,
but not an enthusiast.

Pain is the loudest voice in the room
It obliterates the survivors
and wakes the dead.