brilliance has judgment
unsure of what's too far.
must slow
to a crawl
push your nose
to the ground
close your eyes
drop your limbs
eat cement.

it's early
my voice is harsh
the words come
easier than you do
but there is much
more venom
than that of a
snake.

you're a pearl in
my food
seeping through
my skin
you've brightened my day
all crimson in ways more than natural
and I try not to pay attention to the thoughts that
come without warning, without real meaning,
just striking with sharp teeth
the people that I love, it's always harder when you don't realize you're doing it.
instinct.
thrashing.
inside.
my.
veins.

I'll dance faster
shed some weight
remove myself
return myself
recycle myself
and weigh my actions
through heavy stones
and heavy lids
impossible to lift.

like butterfly caskets
or thin skin you clung
across when you saw how
fast it was expanding,
hide your fear
and they wont look for you
hide your beauty
and they wont look at you
just be you
and you'll be the one looking
because the hunt is far better
than being the prey.

to be the prey is a lamb's chase
and just in case you forget to
bring rope, I've got some tangles
you can hold onto. my heart veins,
they're solid and flowing with the stimulation
of snow.
white,
cold and fresh.
soft,
mold-able.
flesh,
I can't control myself.
warmth,
I'm buried, you're a carrier of shovels,
you dig me big
holes. put
yourself
in them.

feel the exasperation  of waking up
waking upwakingup waking
up but you're falling, up,
waking, up, and you're hallucinating
because your REM is still rolling, and
you're waking, just
waiting to release, to release,
to release
release.

you're in my heart
over the phone
trying to find ways
not to be alone
yet your tone has me ringing
and I want to take back what I said
because I don't know what the words I say are really meaning.

you've paid for me
no attention
simply pocket change
limitations.

not every word that breathes through me is recent,
or so much relevant as lessons.
some insights bury themselves, but I'm digging through what feels like sand.
I find it's better to live
and enjoy.
wait for the rain, and the drought, and the dry cracked peeling
to reveal what takes a second look, because one is not enough,
and if you only read it once, it wont carve into your skin,
you've got to scratch with the same tone as fluid movement
to understand the unbreakable stare of closeness that our flesh takes.