well what if i move to a city
and take my paper
and my entrepeneur heart
and i'll bake for the bread i'll eat
on weekends,
then trade it for the vegetables
a trader of creation
an art dealer of sorts

and maybe then i can relearn how to speak
if i listen to my heart

i hear birds wings fluttering
i hear caves echoing
until you reach the liquid bottom
and reflect,
all golden light
on the walls inside.

something is calling me
to the mountains by the sea
i've never felt so connected.

wet shoes
sit by the fireplace
drying, socks too
sweet smoke travels upwards
trying to find the stars, but
it's still got a while to go

i'd laugh more often
if life was funnier
wouldn't you?
but it's not, is it?

more likely to make you cry than anything
so it's nice to get away
from the furnace of regular life
isn't it?

that, i can laugh at
my own hilarity
seems stale when i'm alone

can you help me out?
make me laugh?
make me cry?
make me want to breathe deeper?
i need that need, you know
just like you do

and you do, there's no denying
the shadows and spiderwebs creeping
over your face
you can't replace
the smell of oxygen
with the smell of car exhaust
and expect it not to show
can you?

no, you can't
it's not even a question
make me laugh, will you?
i'm feeling tired

i looked across and down
and the man's feet tapped
out a rhythm into the dark floor
of the speeding, jostling bus
and the rhythm matched the music
that occupied my ears
and my fingers pressed the tune
into the depths of my pocket
and i looked outside

the trees, aligned along the road
filed past the window
one by one
and the speed at which they passed my vision
matched the even beating of my heart
and the drumming of the cracks
in the cement that hammered
through the wheels and into
the soles of my feet
and i closed my eyes

the words that echoed there
in that dark expanse of thought
were spoken evenly, echoing
into the cavern
in strong, reliant waves
and the beauty of their timing
matched the rhyming of their meaning
and the march of my feet upon the sidewalk
matched the space between the lyrics
marking every single breath
and hanging on each letter
and i opened my eyes

it's funny, because today
the skies were open wide
and the passing of time
was aligned
with every inch of my five senses
one rhythm underlining each word said
one rhythm defining the weight of it all
one rhythm combining the moments together
and as i went to bed
heartbeat thumping in my head
i said
today just felt to me
like a song

I am electric.
All the time I feel it
Sparking just under my skin.
Sometimes it settles like static,
And sometimes it rages like lightning.
But I am always too small for it.
It doesn't live in me
It consumes me
It becomes me.
I feel, therefore I am,
And it is great and terrible.
God was a child,
With a fork in an electrical socket
And I became.
Sometimes someone will try to know it all
Try to be the one who holds all of it
And wonders about nothing.
I have learned that people who try to define me
Burn.
I have learned that being near me
Pulls emotion from them
Magnetically
And that in my purest form
I am neither good nor bad
But I am most certainly
Dangerous.
Electricity doesn't discriminate
It flows.
It's easy to be too much
When there's no end to you.
Slowly, I learned to step back,
To pull away.
There is not a little shame in knowing you can fry someone
By accident.
But no matter what,
I will make your hair stand up.
I don't mangle people,
But I at least leave them with a distinct feeling of strangeness,
Like having the tree right across the yard from you get struck by lightning
And feeling the hum.
It is a fascinating, unsettling, addictive feeling,
And I've seen people lust for it
And I've seen them flee from it
Headlong.
I've held back my fingertips
Unwilling to make them stay by shock treatment.
I have met people who were
Walking dead
And I have shoved them backward
With both hands
And heard a heartbeat restart.
I have met people who reached for me
Like a child for the hot element on a stovetop
And found exactly the same surprise and pain.
I have known people who
Stand close enough to singe their hair
And hold their palms up to thaw something inside them
That has gone cold as ice.
And I have known people whose fingertips
Drew all the lightning to them
And left glorious, hot scars on my skin
Handprints that never cool.
I have short circuited
Looking into eyes that pulled every molecule of me
Charged
Into my beating heart and made me a dying star
Folding in on myself.
I come with a warning label
Because I shout hazard signs
To anyone who will listen.
I try to be gentle
But being high voltage is as much a high
As it is a burden.
I can **** or resurrect, depending only on the direction of the wind that day.
I can light you up
Or I can ******* you
And I don't ever know which it will be.
I am so alive that I can't hold it in,
And I am so chaotic that it's like a disease.
I am electric.