I feel this is going nowhere

And I’m just here for your ego

To know I’m still a fish on the hook

For when you’re ready to eat

You make no efforts of security

Or curiosity, and preached about depth when

You’re standing in the shallow end

I should know your plagiarized speeches

And your fake woke phrases

The grand risings happening are the realizations in my head

That you use your mouth for talking but not giving head

The energy faded as soon as you had your cake

That post-sugar high come down

Spoiling your appetite for something sustainable, savory, and fresh

The only thing you’re craving

Is the sweet taste of flesh

Laying down truths handpicked for the youths
Don't pass judgements between tooths
Stay all about the sooth-saying
We're all screaming instead of praying
That's why we lose so quickly what were steadily gaining
Don't assume I'm playing when I trip you up
With unexpected grease too slick for a slipper
Servers appreciate a big tipper
But don't break your bank to eat and pay no thanks
Don't knock a gender when you knockin boots with someone who's dead at the roots
Don't go down the wrong way on a one way street
If you're gonna shuffle gotta lift up your feet
If you're cold go out in the heat
If you're old get ready for what you're about to meet
I've stayed silent for so long
Speak up before the moment's gone
And you're reaching for something intangible
Because you felt it was intelligible
Don't suppress what makes you you
Cause there's no one else who can fill your shoes
Don't overthink your thought
You only end up killing that truth you sought
Don't detach yourself, just rewrap yourself
Around peace and harmony, it's good for your health
I'm delirious but are you hearing this?
Sleep's for the weak when all you want to do is weep
Sometimes it's all you need to treat the disease
An escape from your predetermined reality
When you're unable to comprehend what it all means
Remember, loving one another is loving You and Me

The time is nearing
and I keep hearing your name
flashing bold and white in my head
Oh, I never want to get out of bed
unless your smoke's in my fire

The time is coming soon
I'm still stuck in my room
scribbling down words I can't say to you
Oh, I'm not right in the head
I cant leave my bed because
your smoke's in my fire

Clock is tick, tick, ticking
I'm terrible at picking up
on inconspicuous cues
The wick is slowly burning and I'm
quickly learning your smoke's in my fire

  The time is now
I'm flickering toward you but the
draft from your presence puts me out
I'm smoldering, embers circling
the smoke coming from my fire
You're the smoke of my fire

Like a foot in between elevator doors,
   you've wedged an opening,
but not quite wide enough to
    fit through
Ambient words of the moment
fill the complacent air
   for far too long
  I wish I could hold us
up to keep you unharmed,
but I'm only the cable hanging us high,
ready to snap with just enough pressure,
  sending you falling to your doom
    while I sway freely

I never thought the two of us would be on this plane
Here we are, diving headfirst into a charade done in vain
Loosely tidying up encounters we remark back on with scoffs

Fun times they were, those sudden acts of lust
If this be another, you will have demolished the last of my trust
There’s nothing worse than the feeling of being used
Manipulate me again, I’ll find another muse
And what we have just done will be another addition to our plain of “fun”

Something consistent is all I desire
Even consistently fondling carries some kind of longing acquired over time
To be longed for, to be desired…

I’m oh so tired of being devoid of the wondrous sensation that fills one with absolute joy…
to where one cannot think straight or hold responsible their foolish acts because it’s all in the name of love

That single word holds so much power, so much meaning, yet is tossed around left and right by those who deserve nothing of it and leave those who possess sincerity to suffer

But there is a lesser form of love; an equally complicated form that has touched me often, yet leaves the ground beneath my feet shaken only temporarily

… except for those Irish eyes…

Now, you have been here before, capturing my eye
Bluntly you can see the spark, yet I’m amazed to know you noticed and didn’t completely fade from my sight
I seem to humor you with my timid presence while you humor me with your strange persona
Typically not a perfect pair, but ultimately compatible

You never cease to amaze me
The words that drip from the ink you hold
to the beautiful arrangements of notes your fingers unfold
Your passion for such an art that moves others in various ways intrigues me
I’m a bit envious, really
I wish I could possess the commitment for something I adored

And the way you convey your thoughts on paper sends shivers down my spine
You were always someone I admired, though I never imagined you wanted to chance your time
Things have changed, we too have evolved
Maybe now nature will make the call
And set the sword in stone for the two of us to pull free
You seem careless now, but what does it hurt to try?

Try me.

Drinking alone can make for good conversation
New things are learned, said or inferred
Who am I speaking to
     and am I heard?
Nature’s beauties surround me
and I’ve killed with neglect
    Unintentional
but always aware
   My lips tingle and my tongue
writhes, my body breathes in
the expulsion of shelved speakers
and my membranes arouse
because I’m redirected to you
   Always to you;
I’d like to hear your voice
but I predict you won’t answer if I call
Following through will result in disappointment
I expected, so why bother?
Predetermination — a convoluted structure
that remains the source of my reflection
   And misdirection
There was a rush of
thoughts like rapid waters
straight to my skull, cracking
  my will to break like a dam
bursting forth with so much emotion
you will drown in it, even if
you hold your breath to infinity

Nothing really to whine about this time
Throwing out your past does wonders for the mind
Almost done dwelling on what doesn’t need to be
Organized stacks of fantasies...clutter free
Premonitions poured from the heart of me
I couldn’t comprehend love til now
Been meaning to burn old written words
and release their content away
The day has come that all of me will allow
the desecration of the unrequited days
dragged too far along in life
because the idea still remained
Stopped loitering on too many side-thoughts
Got caught up with the right train
Been warmer in the cold this time around
These days, I don’t mind rain

I do not think
this year has for me
the only thing I’ve wished for
since the start of 2013 —
  someone to miss more than
peach scented memories,
  someone to call before I go to sleep
to hear the soothing sound of rhythmic breath,
so sweet, someone to share my skin and my
most personal of thoughts,
  someone I want comfort from while I weep,
and as open as the book I just bought,
  someone drawn to me as I am to them
with the invisible line our brains fill in,
  someone whose presence is as delightful,
as a burning vanilla candle,
and as alluring as a draft of cold air
among sweltering heat
  I do not think
this “someone” is
someone I’ll ever meet

The rhythm has finally changed

You never expect it so soon

Suddenly neither one cares

When one has an open wound

From where it came matters not

What steps will you take to heal?

Disappearing in the imaginary abyss won't help

unless coming back with something real

The winged sap wades alone

equipped with a razor sharp edge

only when she flies does it dull,

softening to become fully fledged

Singing to herself across the break

as she coasts closer to the peak

Time passes by another week

Another long time and still no sounds

And in that silence, she drowns

Orange sun shining—
pastel petals drip
weeping for warmth
beaming ebulliently after a pour
breathing the scent of petrichor
  blushing sweetly, like after a kiss

Absorbing all the moisture I can
blooming when I'm nurtured
and fertilized just right
  Detoxify my root,
     Oxidize my bliss
   Spreading seeds
semi-annually
and flowering for you

I’m feeling as if I’m writing no longer for myself,
but for the absent critique of those I admire
I’m convinced I’ll never produce a work
that will gain the recognition I aspire

My passion is derived from what I don’t possess
Short tales of love and dignity
My words fall short of second-best
It seems I’ll never grasp this feat

My creative drive sputters ink,
but dies short of my expectations
That distorted voice of self-pity
reminds me of my own limitations

I fail to progress in this line of art
and doubt all of my capabilities
I fear the day when my spark dies
and writing is no longer a proclivity

Lessening sadnesses
by appropriating real-time
  I wish for certainty
but don’t grant myself
that luxury–unworthy of
getting my way, fulfilling
my desires…all renters
no buyers, not in this market
Writing without cause
to satisfy my purpose
Giving your name
less power by replacing it
with Jump Ship, ‘cause
that’s what you do, when
the action gets too hot
you can no longer allot
your time…your priorities
change within a day
  I wish for consistency
but don’t grant myself
the serenity to accept
it won’t come from you.

Stuccoed silence
Insects of the night
sing their songs
“Take two”–Kava will calm
your nervous system
Full rinse cycle to repeat
Reset once dampened, dry
when you can breathe
Don’t ponder the we
but stay tuned for me
Belt that energy from your throat
Something got your goat?
I’m only intense when you’re gone
My intent is to keep you drawn
but you’re long gone in my mind
Some words I can’t find
in the right moment
I’ve gathered you know it
A few times you’ve shown it
Each time you’ve blown it
Yet I still can’t disown it
Stars twinkle and planes glide
in the sky–I know you’ve looked
checked The Book
Not sure who’s the bait and hook
Missing you like a bad pop song
“Take two”–Kava to calm
my nervous system
Full cycle rinse to repeat
Buttered with scotch and bittersweet

Still, in the fourth quarter
Disabled, a depressed hoarder
Permeation meets ideation
Tectonic joints sliding away
Collapsing Ebony Atlas
In ruin and decay
Water and rock erode away
Foundation, damaged
Weakened support
Overwhelm and pressure
Leading to the break
Dreaming about the long sleep
Paralyzed while awake

Summer loving
Ice cream shovings
into dripping mouths;
a melting cavern,
chocolate pools bubbling
under tongues suppressing
   mundane topics
let's get a little gay
take off my top and
         lay on top of me
**** the chills
with your bikini thrills
refocus your scope sur moi
  basket case weaving
  message receiving
southern comfort relieving
   excavated sediment
sentiments circulate
agreements perpetuate
a consistent blend
of froth and forthcomings
  remember to remember
one's habitual shortcomings

To elevate my mind,

I wander towards the green
to coat my lungs with wispy, tasteful, heavenly
crystals and hairs blanketed with such
sweet vibrations of tetrahydrocannibinol;

To feel out of touch, yet so connected
with reality on another plane,

To resonate tranquility and clarity with such peace
OH! How do I love thee, Mary Jane

Sighing under my breath when
  They appear
I say home is where I’d like to be
  but I’m lying through my teeth
Anywhere else, I’d rather be
  than standing here, scanning,
maintaining smiles a plenty
When in my head, the marquee spins
  I DON’T CARE
about your benefits
about your money peeking from your pocket
about your cabinet installation
about what you spend a year
  I feign stabbing my eye socket
sliding my pointer finger across my throat
  wrapping both hands around it — choke me
  please, help me lose consciousness
so I may be excused from the hustle and
bustle and *******, I’m quitting this
  moment before my chest bursts with the
white hot intensity of condensed nerves and
pity when I look out before me and see
  strangers existing, constantly bewildered
  by everything, looking helpless, lost, frustrated
and the marquee spins
  I DON’T CARE
If I allow myself to connect
If I allow myself in their shoes
If I allow myself to care
  I would become
  one of Them
feeling helpless, lost, frustrated
and I would never be able to
maintain a smile or leave my bed

Taking things slow
but certainly daydreaming of you
every chance I get.
Maybe I’m just taken
  by the idea of it all
  because ideas excite me
and I want to manifest them
but become overwhelmed
   with taking it slow--
I do the opposite.
I feed on the ideal
and swallow the real
without savoring every bit;
I narrow my scope
and remember static feelings
so my body doesn’t forget
that I’m switched on your circuit,
charged and ready to go,
when I should be focused
  on taking it slow.

You can’t have your cake and eat it too. Not for long, anyway. Cake doesn’t settle well when it’s all you’ve had to eat. It’ll churn like butter inside you, and creep up your throat to project like a cannon, barreling through a wall. Cake won’t sit right with you anymore. At the mere mention of cake, your insides will crawl with disgust and an association of icing will replace your taste buds with *****. You will never be able to enjoy cake—at parties, as a delicacy, with ice cream—because you got greedy and wanted to eat your cake first rather than save it for such an occasion. Now all the different kinds of cake you fantasized about trying—black velvet, coffee cake, buttercream pound cake—will only be a reminder of your pitfall that led you to make yourself sick with desire, for cake. You can’t get the icing off your tongue, the smell of batter baking has festered in your nostrils wired to the pungent taste of red from between your teeth. But it’s all you can think of when you’ve been wronged by your favorite dessert. What sort of chemical reaction in the bowels of your stomach caused all of this sorrow? What rejected the cake? Your body has a way of telling you things—we should listen more. Cake is not sustenance, it has no value as a nutritious food. It doesn’t help, only hurts.

End one task, start another
No time to bask, reptile mother
Swallow fast, you may not rest
Finish your plate to be the best
Sliding from one screen to the next
Running tabs of information
Saved, but not learned
Promises given, but not earned
Words fall short with no action
A disengenuous, disassociated faction
Of new lifers, new beginners who
Believe there are no surprises left
When there was a reason for everything,
Now only excuses matter and suffice
Where truth prevailed, honesty is now brutality
The only way to make someone see
What is wrong with them, never Me
Blame-game doubles as adults
Accountability shaded by one’s faults
Voices carry over one another
To avoid actually listening
The narcissist’s kingdom we’ve come to
A palace of selfish, self-centered thieves
Focused on serving themselves
Regardless of who is bereaved

I do not like this scene
or this chapter in my book
My fingers have failed me
as my thoughts evade me
I can’t write this for you
though you’ve done so much
You’ve written me into existence
and I want to edit myself out
It’s easier to put words
on a page that you can rip out
than to speak them to you
and watch the venom bleed
through the cracks of your tired skin
I’m so hurtful, like the edges
of dry, fresh cut paper—
sharp enough to cut,
too dull to scar—
only ever thumbed through
never perused—yearning to
be read and understood
and remembered

These days drag on
while I drag on my finely
rolled cigarette of relief
But the relief is only a hazy
mask, fading with every lash
that falls on my cheek
My hair is too weak and
unkempt, for days spent
inside enduring darkness
take a toll on one's
mentality and physicality

I am a shell of who I used to be
Lips stuck together, crooked spine,
fingers jammed from carpel tunnel
Apathetic eyes grow weary from the
vast toxins that reside behind them
seeping through like an absorbent napkin
and rung out with listlessness

These days drag on and on
I hear the same songs
and make the same motions
I miss the fresh air and
the sound of the ocean
I almost miss the faint
smell of burts bees on
your lips--I'm sick with
nostalgia and dying for the future,
hating the present, wishing these
days would drag to an end

I wonder if people wonder
about me, and if I’m worth
remembering, when I’m projecting
my voice yet can barely hear
my piece over the weight of
the feast. Looking like a snack
won’t sate these beasts. It’s hard
to know your place–when you are
where you’re supposed to be, yet
feel like you don’t belong anywhere.
When the instant reaction to express
your heart lies locked in the spark of
executive dysfunction, and the moment
has wafted away like the lingering smell
stale of yesterday; inner-critique quelling
my own lips from yelling to command
a room’s attention. Not to mention my
vanity lies in personality, skill, intrigue
lack of chatter implies a vestige of depth
for one to sink beneath the surface
yet I wade in opaque waters, watching
reflections to learn just what it is
that ignites hearts that burn

Kitchen-hungry red
Ocean-water teal
Blacks bonded together
Stitched and adhered
   contemporarily
Symmetrically
    stacked
  to lay flat
on my kitchen floor
Crimson 50′s clock
quietly going tick-tock
during rests of audio activity
Wrestling with dogs
during the turning of cogs
to unwind pent up energy
The day of rest and solitary conquest
puts me in no hurry to leave this nest
For I appreciate and want to bathe in
everything I have...for now.

Sometimes I wish
my over-thinking would
short circuit my brain and
leave me brain-dead.

Sometimes in mirrors
I rehearse conversations
I will never have.

Sometimes I think you
are passively avoiding me
or actively ignoring me.

Sometimes I want
to be so turned on
that I never turn off.

Sometimes I can’t sing
from my soul because
it’s buried beneath my heart.

Sometimes I just listen
to the nothingness
and the noise, but I’m
lost in the silence

This gold chest
I hold near my breast
Reeks of the memories encased inside
Many days of blowing smoke,
passing pipes and getting high
Carefree days of
    You and I
Fingers intertwined
And after many shots
and glasses of wine
we would unwind with a dime
and let our hands do the talking
   This gold chest, I open every day
It wasn’t mine to take
because you didn’t give it to me
But you don’t care anyway
I longed for your memory
So with me, it will stay

I want to be over you
because it’s exhausting to keep putting in
giving in, L-I-V-I-N without your acknowledgement
Why do I need validation for the love I harbor?
I want a well-equipped sailor to stay in my tempestuous shores
but apparently I can’t see loyalty through my own turbulent seas
Consiciveness--speak with brevity, pull back the shades of transparency
I used to think you saw me
if that were so, you’d know how dispirited I’ve been
and that you’ve had a small part to play
by sending me mixed signals at some point some days
or maybe I’m insane, as are you
repeating the same actions expecting different results--
is not really the definition of insanity;
some author with a pen coined it, suggesting it were genius
but it’s because it makes sense to the mind of the unsound
when too much noise has filled sensitive ear drums
You’re a storm that’s blown over
destroyed my residency, moving on to the next
I’ve always been terrified of bad weather,
but thought obsessive rituals would quell the thunder
I wonder if it’s me--about the reasons you give
and everyone else I’ve met in this laugh of a life I live
I’ve been left to infer and draw and conclude
Perseveration is more likely the cause in our repeated flaws
but really, these are the last words I’ll write for you
and for myself about you
unless you show me I’m all you could ever want
which I know won’t happen so why daunt?

I don't feel like myself today
Maybe I stayed too long in bed
I feel vacant, my soul trailing
lazily over my head
I don't want to Be
               Today
I don't want to see
               Today
Characteristics are gone
               Today
    Only an entity
               Today
I am my own enemy
               Today
I could be my own best friend
but why even pretend
Everything around fills me with dread
I wish I could have stayed in bed
Connections are dead
               Today
Wish that were me instead
               Today
Tomorrow is a short blink away
   I'll open my eyes after
                Today

Today I had ***
For the first time
and it wasn’t like I expected
I’m sure that’s everyone’s first thought
when we’re beaten with the idea of
grandeur before we can even comprehend the act
Pressure in a foreign place
rotating and grinding, balancing on a fleshy beam
The hard part was getting it in
I thought alcohol would help
but it only made sleep take me
Fresh, crusted eyes and the silence
with rain pattering on roof shingles
and the ceiling creaking with every step above
was all the noise in the background
and all I could think was we needed music
then I thought shouldn’t our breaths be the music?
and the squishing sounds of wetness being slapped?
When you’re older it’s easy to separate *** and love
When you’re older, you’re hardened and care less
In every aspect of your life
Yesterday, I thought it would never happen
But today, I had ***
and that’s all it was

The night is young,
and she waits for me
to rise before the sun
and take my leave
   Day breaks while
   my thoughts weave
Tree branches sway
dropping fallen leaves
Cochlea prickle
as The National plays
sketching an image
of better, sweeter days
Time has flown
and with me it stays
  segmented lines
of those poignant days

I'm trapped...
Trapped inside this ball of deceit bouncing off rubber
Suffocate me...
Leave me in a dumpster so that I might be taken to an island with no others

My ears have saved me once again
Blind I would rather be than to not hear soothing sultry sounds
On the contrary, I would be more content if not to hear the lies that pour from your shanties you call hearts

Trust, I have very little of, though it runs all through my blood
I'm close to giving up on all of you
Me, myself, and my irate moods
All thanks to you

Sometimes I wanna drive away and leave everyone behind
It's not me, it's all of you, most of the time

True colors have been reflected
like glossy panels of deceit;
A palette of mixed aggressive tones
to paint a hue of hate;
****** images depicted,
displaying a forgotten world
of an imagination still sputtering on
A heart scarred for disbelieving the
truth with each stroke;
Empathetic swirls of long repressed
feelings, staccato marks the untraceable
A blend of emotions that leaves my gut
reeling, like pigments of color circling
a water-filled bowl

What is this hold upon me?
It constricts and stifles every thought that appears,
with a chloroform rag drenched in discontent
Mild perfectionism, if such a thing, and procrastination leave me
frequently wondering where the time went

The questions I ask myself repeatedly
never receive answers with credibility
A rhythm with no rhyme; a melody in offset time
A misty meaning behind glossy eyes
that I’ve tied together with endless lines
of verbose attempts to explain my mind

No feeling is palpable, no imagery fabricated
Only an idea of what could be,
of what I cannot grasp,
and what I cannot convey

So I’m left with this clouded mind
jostled by ambivalence
(this word ceases to elude me)
on a maladjusted playground,
teetering and tottering on the fine edge
of sanity in this bleak reality

under the influence again
just so I can stop thinking
about the emptiness I feel
like it’ll completely wash away
down the cold steel drain
and flush out into the abyss
of the rest of the world’s pain
I cannot understand the flightless
fears and insecurities that are
bound to the entirety of me
and why I’m crying without cause
when I should already be asleep
life is as real as the concept of you
and it’s happening now, every day
I awaken in the afternoon because
everything is frightening to do
I’m not ready to be a failure again
still recovering from you and hoping
to meet someone new so it’s easy to
***** a good thing up for myself
life is relentless, happening now
I’m under the influence

There is little I can stand
  I grow very bored
for lack of attention span
someone has cut the cord
but I’d rather have it this way
than to leave my gaze swayed
by faces and places replacing
the finer things at which I could gawk
  like side-walk scribblings
executed with chalk
  like ants working busily building
bridges made of leaves
  like envisioning fresh fruits
dangling their bloom from trees
I am not disinterested in the world
  but what the world sees
Ignorance spouting animosity
No understanding or appreciation
for what we really are
  Straight denial
at the idea we come from stars
So hooked onto what is hovering above
judging and toying in return for our love
Are our thoughts really our own?
Are the decisions we make always known?
  I question but never deny
the fact that my life is a lie
Some truths are never told
some mysteries never solved
The world will keep spinning
distractions will keep brimming
until we’ve lost ourselves entirely
and into the universe we dissolve

Exhausted
from feeling
   reeling
peeling away my exoskeleton
of mossy vehemence

Disgusted
from festering
pestering bacteria
leeching my energy
depleting my senses

Desensitized
towards romance
no chance
for me
Sinking
in a swamp
instead of grasping
for relief

Ashamed
for allowing
disavowing
natural instincts
Crying
   dying
internally invaded
by poisonous neglect
  Suicide
by choking on
your spoken words
I kept

The sweat hanging from your curls dives
for my nose,      
         scales my cheeks
like salt hugging the shore
Drown me in your liquefied voice, let me drink until
my breath is gone so nothing can compare
         to your splendor
Constrict me you python, swallow me whole
  Let me s
               l
                i
                 d
                   e down your belly
and provide you nutritional value
    I hope I release your oxytocin
I value our bond and your body,
         mind, spirit, soul
I value your existence as a whole
   I miss you when I hear your name
   or when I'm possessed by a beat,
the sheer force of your stare
         So sinister, I am compelled
   to move for you

Silence;
a blank page
without whispered textures
upon its face
A settling absence
of auditory stimuli
or a nerve-wracking presence
between your temples
The stillness in the air
conforms around you,
dousing you with complacence;
A lingering tone
will commence the mood
and cause a stir inside you
slaying your sanity
to bits

I no longer possess the will nor train of thought
to focus on education or socializing
And whatever I manage to write
has already been written by this hand
in different variations but with the same emotional ailment
Lethargy lies under my skin
a blanket for my still blood
I cannot shake it free or shrug it off
I have to make an incision
but I cannot make this decision
because procrastination holds the scalpel
and after it keenly sterilizes the blade
and tends to the many precautions of this surgery,
then inevitably becomes distracted by its other senses’ desires,
my disease will have won

What matters
in this verse full of
    anti-matter
What is substantial
not circumstantial
    of any reality
What holds all of it
all of us in place
     Together
What keeps us spinning
        Going
Perseverance? Or
Perseveration?
What really hurts more
with each revolution
   What gets harder
with each new solution
What is contingent
on our progress
     What are we
striving towards
What is repeated
during this process
What is retained for life
     after death?
What is to blame
for the walking dead
   unable to connect
reincarnation to resurrect
what was lost in time
in between space
What do we see
when our selves
are effaced?

Every window of hope
    
  SLAMS shut

as if

I was never supposed
to sneak out

   and make you mine

I don’t agree with gravity
in this regard, for it is you
    who has stolen my heart

   and you covet it, unknowingly
    and instigate these flirtations
leaving me drunk with elation

No, it’s not just the alcohol
that leaves me giggling like a child
  
It’s that you and I,
are nearly the same kind
ultimately compatible
We see eye to eye,

but only one of us realizes

all showered and shaved,
gussied and primped,
with no one to touch
hence a lonely night spent
tapping away on plastic keys
to people near and far over seas,
who mimic my movements
directly through the screen
typing away, writing obscene
poetry and fiction
with articulate diction
of tales of titillating touches
by our celebrity crushes,
for our realistic lives
are in a lasting drought,
therefore fervent encounters are without
but the passion that burns
lies in our lust-less yearn
to be held, touched, and stimulated,
sensually caressed and dominated
depictions of kink send sparks
to particularly my lady parts
and the desire for one's touch
becomes almost too much,
so I channel these feelings
that leave my nerves reeling,
and loneliness settles in
before I can even begin
to describe the touch
of which I cannot feel
and wish the instances
I fabricate with words
could only be real

Warm laundry gives me the
fuzzies, makes my hands grasp
   majestic purple soaps
to cleanse away the ***** wails
compacted under fingernails
A selection of smell good things
lotions accompanied by fuzzy things
to rub away and radiate the aura
of calm, balance, and tranquility
Lavender is condusive to many
different uses, inhaling the graces
of herbal essence, soothing said coolings
inducing mood peelings of layers of grime
a skin liberative—figuratively speaking
Flowers of passion brew thoughts into actions
silent buds permeating scents
   so invigoratingly innocent

I thought I knew how to string a web
of realizations around my six of hearts,
but playing cards and not cashing in
makes no sense to pessimists that drink
not often enough

Emotions are hairy and tarantulas are scary
Strawberry wine has a buttery aftertaste, he says
So why am I feeling like I don’t know anything
after expressing my thoughts I can’t sort out?

What makes sense? Not these words
Knowing yourself is figuring out the infinite piece
puzzle you’ll never finish because they’re scattered
all about to everyone you love
But they’ll never complete you like you want them to

Tears come naturally like rain from the sky
Salty droplets, trickling down from your puffy eyes
There’s a frog in your throat, croaking louder than ever
Is this enough nonsense for you?

I’m so sorry for not doing what I should have done all those times
I wish I was a better daughter
I’ve been speaking my wishes to careless gods
Not one has come true
Maybe there really isn’t a god
But I can’t tell you that—then what would be your reason to continue?
I can’t lose you, not yet
I haven’t apologized for my ways
and expressed the ache in my heart
But it’s scary to be vulnerable
and I’m a coward
A self-hating coward
You would say I fear for I don’t believe
I would say you believe out of fear
Maybe I’ll confess to you at the end of this year
Or maybe I’ll keep it to myself again
and then something awful will happen and I’ll hate myself forever
It shouldn’t be this hard to tell someone what they mean to you
Why does it seem this will be the last thing I ever do?

I want to peel your epidermis
like an orange and garnish it
upon my lips
I want your speckled flesh
velvet smooth
underneath my fingertips
Your soft peach skin
flavor of sweat
smells sweetly of sin
One sniff makes me wet
I love your hands,
supple like cream
spreading generously over me
Pigment means nothing
but how much heat
you can take
Thick skin absorbs force—
how much power
can you make?