sometimes
all that's
inside's
empty

her name not on your tab
her texts you've left on read
her smiles you don't have
her presence you now dread

I would rather not see
I would rather not be
another on the shelf

there's not much I don't know I do know
but there's quite a bit I know that I don't

slicing whispers
inside of your head
gun shots on your tab
liquor in your holster
several left for dead

why yes
I do indeed
want to read
another single chapter

she advanced like a gunshot
right through my heart and my life
pierced my chest with a blade
but there was love on the knife

dunes roll beneath my toes
black sand over my belly
and silver into my nose

awoken missed calls
to another eight hour stand
body pain and mental strain
say it's needed and
call this really living

call it present call it future
call it time forever further

(group poetry)
☆
fish warm
fish cooked and broiled
fish fresh
fish clean, unsoiled
☆
the bless-ed corn
ur hair it does adorn
☆
snorting god
☆
i responded with as much honesty as courtesy would allow
☆
my own words meant for someone else
coming back to me and applying to myself
☆

penning lemming blackberry stems lending friendship sending jam jelly mending slam poetry unending

there is something up there
bending burning melting hurting
and it keeps me silent

inexplicably unavoidable
please be kind to me for i am not strong
although i know you are unable
and by that i mean that you refuse
im sorry youre not someone else
im sorry you are you

a flock carried the horizon across the window and i think about what i wanted to look at in that mirror when the covers were reflective of nothing in particular. i dont think that this is entirely sustainable but i cant bring myself to anything different

long sleeve silver chain you feel like something different. does it matter will it change i think im going missing. im afraid that whats becoming bitter jaded pessimistic, crawling all that i had fallen the time had finally came

shes always been interested in dental hygeine. brought together by zero dollars but you cannot put a numeral on kindness

☆
drinking air like flame
a moth inside a lantern
the passion in pain
☆
burning desire
the rapture of heat
self immolation
☆
acutely consumed
and terminally alive
chronic thoughts of love
☆

when there are several months in seven days
hearts soaking into carpet, it will leave a stain
drowning in stars is not enough to keep this appetite contained
empty chest cavity to blame

stop the pain
cut its reign
maim me
hang me
save me

seventy five percent and of the unprosetic words eighty some is silver. eighty some a studded cup, insulated yard sale zippers, two black doors, just like the hood of a past to a sister. sometimes the existence is painful, but with sweet will come bitter, merely wishing for peaceful decisions that do not fester but glimmer, although the fear is insurmountably weighted heavily pressed to the soul, and occasionally cracking the skull, creating a beat just to keep a distraction for temperature, redirection of heat, and tears under stars will shimmer with shivers of guilt - acceptance pending, as this will not wither, this will not wilt.

a flavor lost in water
frustration dissolving into apathy
does it even matter any more.
a comedy of pain
would you like to see the discrepancy in timestamps
or is it enough to say im ready
and would you understand
when i tell you with joy
i no longer love you
or would that contradict these citrus-scented apple slices
touched only by two hands
and the burning of acidic salt beneath my eyes
as if i ever stood a chance

A slice of paper inked with fist-fulls of letters for your tongue
Read it aloud, stand your ground, do me proud
With a great drink of air and the pulling of courage from the mud on your shoes
Just forget how you’ve been, and go out on this limb
You begin

cant sleep when theres fire on my face. the heat upon my legs and arms it weighs above the cushions, and on the other side behind the screen and on concrete careful - in the perch, a watchful eye dont think youre clever. it is cold and it is gentle, and there are airplanes in the sky - today i talked to one about satellites, and i wonder if the stars will reach down for me tonight, and if i will bend so slightly forwards to meet them as they fall - though with city lights i doubt they will at all

gentle hands when gentle time collides
touch hair touch heart touch lives
include another in tactile feeling
grounding, remind them that they are worth being
the warmth that is held in the palm and the eyes
conveyed to each other through physical guide
how difficult to be vulnerable
to show scars with skin
but with touch, consolable
a human within

it will be a piecemeal process wont it
perhaps its just the way that i am feeling
i know tomorrow will be different (or will it?)
but that does not make this nothing

it is tempting to make the cut
is it worth it when its always proven wrong
but i am scared
will the damage mend
or perhaps should i say will i care

at what point is history enough
when do i decide to take the jump
and should i consider the climb down instead
and by climb i mean getting dashed against the cliffside
and by cliffside i mean the wooden box of ticket stubs
where i awake in tears because she said that it was normal
but this was not the first time
and by that i mean if i were to break the curfew
where would i go if not straight back to here

inaction is a choice
i hope i will not stand so paralyzed in spring
id like to think its simply winter frost come early
but dependency has cuffed me

the expanse found between solid bones
a cavity so fatal it makes me wonder should i even bother
is my energy better spent if i just let it die
or should i **** it faster
should i even try to stay alive

I AM BREATHING.
THE ATMOSPHERE HAS TURNED TO PINS AND NEEDLES
IT HAS TURNED TO ASPHALT TAR
THE AIR IS FULL OF DISTANCE AND REGRET
BUT I AM BREATHING YET
THE OXYGEN HAS TEETH AND IT IS SCREAMING
BUT I AM BREATHING
I AM BREATHING.

people change their minds
nothing's unconditional
traditionally habitual of human animals
predictably they always change their minds

but not you, no
you're not typical
you're unequivocal
I know exactly what you think
you're never finicky
because you unconditionally
unaccept me
your consistency is appreciated
as indicated by tears that ensue
so thank you
I mean it, I really do

my body and soul in a boxers ring
the ref has been shot, throttled, and kinged
compliant to no one, inside is a known run
yet all parties here are the foe
are the loser the liar and lo--
the body is violent.
the audience: god, and they sit there silent.
soul socked, blocked, and bruised, he shivers to quiet
and body, it staggers and quivers in triumph
but it shakes and it cries because its eyes are mine
for a fire inside
does not inspire
but burns and hollows to rinds

soul, he delivers a blind hit.
in stride and in mind, an inmate of wildness.
of trial-less, unending, childish depending, spiraling slightly askew

and of tiredness.

the soul, he kneels, and body, it keels
the ref has revived and is quick to the meal
she tears apart body and dips into soul

there's only one answer
as god keeps their hands still
no matter the way that it's told.

you've never seen their mornin
never known their everyday
don't know for them what is normal
careful what you say
what you say, what you do
watch your actions careful too
don't know what they been born into
what kind of baggage came
with their family name
cause you ain't never seen their mornin
ain't never seen their mornin

off and out into the wild
into the light of day
walking down the street
nothing special just mundane
self confidence picks up feet over concrete
this is what it feels like
to be yourself to be for real [sweet!]
sometimes a real feat
just to be yourself a real feat
a real feat
sweet

search and seizure
homework in the park just leisure
nothing wrong except for question eight
turn the page of the packet wait

pain killer's killed by time
constricting stomach folds inside
poppin pills in the park
not the kind for after dark
just some pain killer
brain filler
when mind's filled with hurt
torment
torture
only pain around the corner
pain killer
pain killer

you see what you want to see
perceive what you only already believe
bias/
drop your false pious/
your badge doesn't make a preacher
abilities abused only makes a cheater
just assumed the pills from a dealer
but you ain't a mind reader [nah!]
you ain't a mind reader

stop and take a breather
check your reason before creepin, search and seizure
give some space, search and seizure
not your place, search and seizure

search and seizure

i know that if i touch the glass it will ripple and shimmer and light me on fire
i know that if i drink from the waters edge that i will never return to this side
i know that if i lean forward i could kiss him and just as easily lose the entirety of my being
for at this window i find it is the bridge from my body to the world and i can feel it pulling me in
and if i let it, it would make me into the universe and leave not a single trace behind

just about eye height

the second board from the left of the splintered shelf in the shed
and its just about why i

stand beside the wasps nest in calm sweat like palms melt somewhere in my pockets
but its more about the time by

which i find a trowel on the wall beside the power that ive always needed to decide to recall
because its really when my mind dies

that i find that such denial can be freeing although always seeming fleeting
and thats the moment with my eyes wide

stuck inside the shed

at the bus stop with a juice box
and a heart full of love.
on the pavement an arrangement
of impersonal hugs.
how i miss you when im with you
and what it used to be like.
over blue ice saying white lies
ill be quiet tonight.

they say a pictures worth a thousand words
and with eyes of fire you read me like a book
i want to ask how many words are on the pages
are there as many lines as blisters on my skin
as many as the tears ive spilled into your palms of flame
or can you count them on your fingers, can you count them on one hand
are there as many as the burn degree that i have sustained

a new symphony
invited to a group
honored flattered
small dreams really
my short hair mistook
by thee an image shattered
sorry but new me
I think myself it suits
(so don't mind if I do)
not yet exact, sure
but we'll get there

stir fry rice in the black skillet pan
stove top breakfast but not enough time
blueberry coffee cake in room seventeen
outdoor windstorm inner demon fling
pride and accomplishment but sorrow as well
what if it's all down hill from now
best performance in practice compelled
what if that was the best I'll ever tell
what if the slam isn't great isn't perfect
wait

breathe
don't negatively dwell
feet wide, chest out, clenched fists, inner yell
power pose and your sound will grow
in this case
your sound of existence
may you ever be persistent
in working for your dreams

next on agenda, signature forgeries
for a cause of course no cons
light theft earlier today
held the door and stacked chairs
rules broken my way
skip to offer therapy, support, care
make you feel understood

I like to think that I'm chaotic good

to the store in the wind under clouds over wheels times two
I liked her hair; it was like mine
but no, I hadn't seen a chocolate lab
whipping cream sixty percent done stirred in sugar needs more sugar
needs more sweet
vanilla extract
extract joy then with snapped yells coursing in the veins of home
home... not really, just some walls, my heart isn't here
black pearls on fingers and necks and minds and upon my life
VPN poetry under cold sheets on a twin mattress
prayer beads of black pearls on the shelf
if it didn't take two hands to type
those pearls would be somewhere else

potted paints in tins
glass water bottled dipped with brush's tip
crouched at a baby table back hurting knees hurting hand hurting head hurting
this is art
watercolored spit is this enough for you
of course not

another cake but without cream
my tooth lethal leveled sweet
didn't even read
fine print in the footer
of birth certificate
"may contain mentally sick"
I'll die of too much sugar
if not first by bullet to the head or any particular sharp edge
this house takes anger and consumes it straight
presumes hate
don't touch me
I don't feel safe with my roommates

it's four in the morning
go back to bed
dreams soaring but
don't spend so much time inside your head
it's time for work instead
Easter Sunday

homework on the dining table
laptop and a pen
don't tell me I don't fit my label
wasn't kidding when I said
this is not pretend
Easter Sunday

six years without wheels can lead
to isolation caged frustration stuck inside a cell
inside the bottom of a well
understand me
I wish I had a bike
but really I just wanna love my family
wish that they were people that I liked
they love me and deserve it back
but I just can't requite like that
in tears upon linoleum
I'm loveless in the bathroom
Easter Sunday

my head's a hollow jar
made of fragile glass
careful not to break
into a hundred shards

my eyes are made of cork
but very poorly so
as everything leaks out
puddles on the floor

I don't mean to harbor such hate
it's not like me to do so
I so strongly believe in giving repreive
for all I do and don't know

I'm sorry to be so jaded
it's just tough to live under this roof
my space is always invaded
I feel always under scrutiny
on the edge of mutiny
or at least just moving out
(quietly, of course)
or so intended though contended
by your natural ways
to make a show of something soft
my reasoning has made
the need to know of why I'm off
you'll never get the answer that you wish for
as I whisper
something not the truth

Very distracting kind of abstract
Cardboard laundry hamper box filled with soiled time
Wash your clocks and clean its hands
Lord knows how often seconds wipe smiles from faces
How unsanitary, which I can't stand
But yet, the crumples of crinkled sheets cast aside
Though should reside in washer's spinning bowl
In actuality slumps glumly on my floor truly self extolled
How will I ever do on my own, after leaving from home
I'll be alone and hungry and ******, nothing but skin and bone
Anyway
It's time I just get those sheets washed

three hours later at the nine and followed forty
(where did you go from the four)
slandered rocks he left on bricks before a bus of bad memories came to knock me down
straight into the ground I thought it might just drive me to the mantle
molten rock to cool my temper after living below finger pads and being trampled
how could I have run when simply stunned I nearly tripped
over my own tongue
I need to close my mouth
but here I am too kind too cruel to ever say a word but to never stop a sentence what kind of speech is my own
I've never heard it real so to speak you see at least thats how it feels

ask me again tomorrow and I'll say I've felt it true and that I know myself exactly who
and yet
across the bench is you

I'm tired I'm drained I'll completely explain
why I do not like you--
if only you'd sign this form of consent to never sue me over words I may have maybe said
except those are never read just signed in blinded ink instead
so really what's the use just take the helmet off my head
(don't be silly, as if I ever had it really)

he's got his heart on his shoulder but I'm not sure
if there's another in his throat
another one to dread
I hope to find proof yet hope's all I can do
for better or for worse or left for simply dead
I cannot seem to tell good liars what's the truth