The other night at work I noticed that
Centipedes like to congregate in the pool room to die
It's easily the warmest place in the hotel, but I see them all over
I notice bugs of all kinds, ants in the garbage, and spiders in the corners of the stairwell
Lady bugs love the sunny spots near the windows and I see those centipedes marching brazenly
Along the carpet in the hallway from time to time, I wonder where they go…
To what holes they crawl into, I wonder how long they’ve been alive
And why they choose to die near water because I easily sweep dozens of them up day after day
I’ve been feeling such a way that I cant help but relate this all to me
I’d guess I’d want to die somewhere warm too, but I cant think of what holes I’ll wander into
If I ever get out of this one, how many legs would it take to run? Rhetorical question…
Cause I’ve learned my lesson, there is no easy way out, there are no simple answers
See, all these “facts” are just theories, because no one knows why, what planes we’ll burst into
Or whatever our souls do, if you believe that sorta thing, I think space is funny
Because even within me there is so much space, spaces between atoms and spaces between cells
Nothing ever really touches so time is also a guess, and more like a distance
When we propose this strange instance that is reality, you need to have just enough separation
To hold it together, to even observe a shape, and we still yet may never know if there even is a why
Or that’s just what it does, the dimensions above are theoretically endless and unless we are shown wrong
It's known that particles flit in and out of the universe at a whim, if quantum mechanics was a church
I’d be in, cause it’s also a bunch of theories that are really a quest for the truth, if it can be observed
And when I heard that “facts” are stranger than fiction, they’re definitely right, we’re all still existing
In this plane we call the third, but we can ruminate on the fourth, and even manipulate it in metaphors
Seek to remake it so there is no space between us, then we’ll be static, make our wrinkle in this fabric
Last forever, just on the flip side of never, which is honestly another whole big conversation
Because everything and nothing are one in the same, but nothing by its own definition does not exist
I cant even begin to list how many long nights I’ve brooded on this, though everything is still a difficult concept
It’s easier to accept for me, you see I still stumble all over my words, and it’s hard to relate
I hate that I rarely know what to say, but I believe in quantum mechanics
So I must share atoms with other versions of myself
That there’s one of my selves that can breathe fire, maybe
And one who’s the strongest, fastest man on the planet
Even a me that can communicate flawlessly every time no matter what the circumstance or who the person
And if my search is diligent, then there's one of me out there that is ******* brilliant
Because connection is just on the other side of separation, loneliness is just a sensation
An illusion, a confusion, if you can even read this then you can’t truly be alone
Just wonder why and roam
This plane of existence that happens to be home

This is for your body
From the crown of your head
And back down to the treads of those shoes
That cover those adorable digits
It’s for the way that you fidget when I say
That they’re cute, the way you refute
When I try to compliment something as marvelous
And natural as your body

But this is not about that
It’s about facts and reflexes
Not mental complexes and low self esteems
It’s about the way that I dream, when those toes
Are curling and those smooth legs unfurling to let me inside
I tried and I tried to get that mind open
*** isn’t a sin, it’s just natural, another reflex
Reality check: it doesn’t matter who came before
Because I still adored your hipbones and waist
Oh, and your face, but I’ll get back to that later
I thank whatever creator that you even came into my life
That I even knew you, because dreams do come true
Sometimes, I'd trace lines over your stomach and chest
I could spend days on your breast because time is irrelevant
But for the hell of it, I’ll keep moving along

Was it wrong that I loved the width of frail shoulders?
It was so easy to hold her against my chest and my arms
But I couldn’t keep her from harm
Though I tried and I tried, turns out that I lied
I just hope that she knows this is about more than just ***
More than the love that we made, it’s about the blue shades
Of her veins and how she hates when it rains cause it makes her hair frizzy
The way it smelled made me dizzy, let alone the mind
Underneath that made me feel complete when it would talk to me for hours
It loved meteor showers maybe even more than my own

And I could spend years on her eyes
If each tear that she cried over me was a poison, I would drink them all down
Because that was the real sin, I can’t even begin to explain
My self-induced pain, because those eyes, they used to love me
Used to see something I couldn’t when I swore that I wouldn’t
Let them be alone, that her heart was my home, the blood that roamed
Through her body and the sound that it made was my most beloved
Composition, I would listen when she changed positions, and no
Not in bed, but whenever she scratched her head or stretched out those muscles
Or when they shivered and rustled in the cold
The same cold that I told her I would never let in

But this is not about my sins, It’s about her body

I want to take a step back to those eyes, the light gleaming inside
Of them, it should never have mattered how many men
They shined for before, because I was there and I swore
That I always would be
It’s about the way I would see her happiness glitter
And the way my heart flittered when she bit her lip and smiled
And when her nose crinkled and the skin between wrinkled, yes
I could spend years on her eyes and that brain
Before all of this pain and the fidgets became
Nervous tremors, but my heart still remembers
Before all the fury and that light turned to anger
That she couldn’t cure me and could no longer endure me
And the glowing coals of affection became smothered, yes
We were once lovers, but it was my fault we never once knew each other

We only knew our bodies

And I hope she still knows that *** isn’t a sin
And that she’ll let someone else in
Because that mind deserves more, I hope that heart isn’t sore
If she ever remembers who she thought that I was
Hope it still catches a buzz and it’s about more than just ***
I hope whoever comes next spends decades on those eyes, those beautiful eyes
Placed over that precious nose, I pray that she never cries and that he protects her from every
Drop in the sky
And I hope their blood sings and that their hearts ring
For each other
Man, I just hope that he loves her
And loves that precious mind, I hope her eyes see
What they did once before and her whole body believes
In something more than what she eventually found
Within me

We waste each other's day
Waiting around until there
Is no more time to ****,
Praying or just hoping
For something better
To come along

Just bite the bullet...
I'll know better than to try
Next time, don't bother

I do not enjoy
your anesthetized
clean pictures
of the Victorian past
with your fantasies
about nobility
and high society.

The truth is *****.
The people were poor,
and the poetry spoke truth.

It did not cover up such pains,
but placed them on display
in word play
to say,
“We are human and we are here.”

Waiting in warm rain
Light streaks through humid skies and
Shivers down my skin