you loved me good, but
he hated me better. i'm
a sucker for passion, oh,
the thought of him still
bites.

You   feel   it
coming. You
can    always
feel   it  com-
ing.  It's  here
again. Maybe I would rather be low. Here it is, again, the plateau.

oh hips, i'd gather all them,
(your spine i deserve).
i'd much rather call them
a coastline than a curve.

i keep a secret
on the inside of my bit-
ten, ****** cheek. ow.

sappy lately, maybe happy lately,
maybe lately just greatly lonely?

if i could
i'd spend the world
with you.
i would
if you wanted
to—
but they say
that's a pretty **** big
part of my plan—
your yes or
your no—
and i haven't yet
figured it all
out yet
if you
say
no

On rainy days
I clear my face
And enter in
The cold embrace
Of a false name,
And faux life too,
That sit atop
in Ocean's view.

Your existence is drowning—
Possessing your breathe in depth
Spanning a minute into a lifelong
And only when your lungs collapse do you
Fly and break the surface into another new world
Another new ocean in which you will hide:
Close your eyes and refuse to inhale the tide.

My people, I
Am tired of grass,
The blades are tasteless
And it takes much too long
To fill this growing flesh.

Let us eat the bugs
That eat the grass;
And save ourselves the time.

My people, these crickets
Are too crunchy,
And once again,
I am eating for days to fulfill this need.

My people, we
Have grown so big
That we must go
One step above
And pierce the sky
And eat the Gods.

I could not be with you so I became you.

Oh, the ego of the English
Who have devoted to themselves
1/26th of all they know.

One day I will
Publish ten books of poetry and
Burn eleven of them.

Can you sense me in your stomach?
I am that little colored pill.
Are you aware of my presence as your blood-alcohol level?
I am rising with every sip you take.
The cigarette which seeps into your lungs and infects your system like a snake:
That is me.
No matter what you do to your stomach, lungs or iris.
You cannot escape.
I am a violet-tinged virus.

I'm not ideal—I am irritation.
The words are steel with implication,
Bite my heel for malformation.
I am not real—I am animation.

stuck between polarities
between loving whenever you are gone
and
loving wherever you have gone

I am your eyelids and the train-tracks of your stitches. I am the cracks in your bones and the wealthy mind riches. I am the fluid of your language that speaks in every sentence of your prose, I am the syllable you cannot speak though your tongue still knows. I am the chapel of your rib cage and the rage that it slows, closing the gates to the crosses in rows. I am the dirt under your cuticle and the follicle of your skin, sprouting a thread of your body within. I am the anxiety of your brain and the ecstasy of your flesh, crawling at the sense that you attain and possess. I am your lost baby teeth and the way that they chatter, I am the neurons, the synapses, the white and grey matter. I am your saliva burning caverns in the cave of your time. I am the line of your lips and the lungs you call, "mine." I am your soul, your secrecy, your sanctity. Your spine.

I have always had demons in my dreams
but I never knew I would see them out of sleep

I have always had demons under my eyelids
but I never knew I would feel them between my ribs

I have always had demons under my skin
but I never knew I would try to befriend them

I could not make
it through the day.

I gave up at noon—
came home.
Lay in bed for twelve hours straight,
wondering,

Why am I not happy?

I tried to solve my problems
But then I realized...
I don't have any.

If I am sad with no means to be
Is that not a problem?

You put together words
and syllables
and sounds because they
ring a certain bell in your ear.

You pause for a moment, an ominous drawl.

But is there any meaning?

Any meaning at all?

Tears—from, or in front of, or in the arms of
My mother, oh God, do I love her,
Breaking down faster than gravity can act on salt water.
The words dissolving under my tongue—
quicker than I can spit them out.

It hurts.
It ******* hurts.

It's not morning sickness if it only happens when I wake up next to you,

baby.

I drink away my problems
I drink away my happiness
I drink away my wallet

I waited forever, but there was never a "right time" to tell you.
I think I found the wrong time, however.

If I could travel through time,
I would go back to when I first met you.

If I could stop time,
I would stay there for ten years,
     Thinking.

If I could control time,
I would have never met you,
And still have grown up in the process.

Life handed me two boards of wood and a bucket of nails and now I can't tell if I am suppsoed to be Jesus or Huckleberry Finn.

if the world before us were a binary search tree—
you and i can't carry on.
parent to nothing;
we were born leaves,
we stay leaves.
}

First comes love, then


              she does

I don't know what I want but—
I know I don't have it.

I act, I react—
I did not impact your life the exact way you did mine.
You attract me.

I act, I react—
You were the one fact
I could never forget
and I was abstract.
I know I was only there to distract you
from your other lover
who did not love you
as much as I.

I act, I react
and I follow the path
that subtracts
you
from
me.

I am the problem of my creator
I am the creation of my problems

I locked you in my closet,
And put your memories under my bed.

But now,
the flesh has fallen
and you are the skeleton in my closet
and beneath my bedframe,
your memories have spawned
a monster.

Your third eye, your two eyes, you're I, you are I, I,

can't live in the past
can't live in the future
can't live in the present

can't live
can't live
can't die.

*(i am alive)

I wonder if you hurt to see me love another
          I hope you
                  do              a nd
                                            d o                          no    t

I want you to know,     I
    wonder too.
        What life is    to    have
     been
with                    y    ou.

I don't look back.
I look sideways at
what could have been.

I don't look back.

I see you in the pupils of
my lover.
Black.

I wonder too.
I wonder.
I wonder
if also
you?

true love doesn't die

true love doesn't die
but it ends
and we look through glass windows
at a time we both wonder if we can touch again—
but we can't.
if we break the glass,
our hands will bleed
and happiness isn't worth the hurt again.
happiness isn't worth anything to do with you

I could decipher your writing,
Every loop, curve, and line.
I know all of your secrets,
and you know all of mine.

I picture your past
as if I have lived it instead.
Your voice is my conscience,
Guiding my head.

I know how you died,
On that night, all alone.
But your favorite color,
I never have known.

You called yourself a philosopher—but
The only depth you cared about
was intravenous.



*The boy who loved God too much,
he tried to find Him

in his head.

I tried to push you away;
to deny your voice.
    You make my mind sway.

New phases came,
and I got hooked.
    I forgot your fame.

But then I heard you, from her.
And I remembered us.
    You make my thoughts blur.

The last time I heard you, I don't know when.
But now I've tasted your song;
    and I'm in-love again.

I listen to you, as I go to bed.
Your rightful place,
    is in my head.

In past I have met a man,
Who sold his youth to sea
Now withered, before old age began
Tells tales of only memory.

I've also found a girl in ache,
Wronged by a single soul.
The past, tainted by a single break—
A future taking toll.

However many memories do invite—
I see no calling in yesterday's light.

I tried to write of you.


I really tried to write of you.






\i don;t know Why i't didtn work---


I tried so hard, I tried
so hard, but it
was just a sign--
just a sign-just
a
sign.

You don't sleep well, but I rest forever—
however , I'd trade sleep to never lose sight—
Oh, just to see your face
for every second of the night.

I  miss  the  way  you
(didn't)
talk          to          me.

I woke up warm today—
and your skin smelled like
coffee.

I have always
hated
the sign of caffeine
in the morning
(and you know this).


but one day you will be gone
and all I will crave
is your coffee skin
in the morning.

I woke up cold today—
like the *** of coffee
you left on the counter
last monday.

He took me to the river,
Said that careful phrase.

"We were never lovers"

Laid me on blue haze.
Like a floating flower petal,
I skim atop his grip.

"We were never lovers,"
Said the water on his lip.

"If only in the next life,
My words will become true."

As my lover closed my eyes
And plunged me into blue.

If you love something,

let it go.


If you are hurt by something,

let is go as well.




Does this mean that everything I love is supposed to hurt me?

so we pour salt on slugs and watch them shrivel away
'cause you used say, "let's be human here."

disappearing was never our forté
but we could make it his.

In your depths
Between tissue,
And bone.
An ache of none other,
Red-rimmed unknown.

In your depths
Each blood cell that you do obtain
Ravages
It's caging vein.

A corridor of your heart
Itches.
The only way to rid yourself of it
Is to dissect your whole.
And rip apart your flesh,
And tear apart your soul.