outgoing?
I'd say outspoken
never been arbitrary
or overbearing-
just vocal

my passion runs deep
and pours out
excited
overflowing
when it finds
another soul to share it with

the energy
others direct towards me
I absorb
and like a mirror
reflect it back towards them

the energy
that rests inside me
is like water
waiting
for an outside force
to heat me up
excite
my molecules
or
to cool me down
mellow
the chaos inside me
making me stable
making me solid

if being an extrovert
makes me
popular and
domineering,
a fun-loving,
party animal
who lacks introspection,

tell me why
I always choose
to isolate myself

why
my few friends I do have
I keep at a distance
except when I force myself
to enjoy their company
once or twice
in a year

why
I am easily talked over
my words drowned out
ignored
like background noise
my input
apbrubtly halted
as others drive over it
making it no more
than the dust
their tires kick up
why I let them
talk over me
rather than raise my voice

why I would rather
read in solitude
than go to a party
or play a video game
rather than socialize
why
would I choose
to ponder existence
over
existing with others

extroverted
means I get my energy
from external events
rather than the internal

I am not a synonym
for gregariousness

I am the ocean-
from an objective glance
one might say
I am predictable
my tides
my moods
are just a reaction
caused by
my moon of emotion

I inch closer to you
then pull away
the moon is my master
and I am but a puppet
to her

wade in my shallow waters
before venturing further

for your own safety
study me first
before exploring my depth

I have swallowed innocent people
whole
when they did not
know what to expect
their bodies will always rise
but I have drowned their souls
in my darkness

not something I am proud of
but they
should have known
what they were getting into

inside me there lives
demons disguised as sharks
lurking
until you show your
vulnerability
once they smell it
they will hunt you down
and abuse you
for their own advantage

but when you get to know
my secrets
my waters
my soul
I promise there is
beauty
in the underwater foliage
I can show you sights
you have never seen
as long
as you remember
when to pull up for air

just bring a life vest
and don't say
I never warned you
not
to swim too deep

She's her own landscape                              
No illusions                                        
Spends her time hustling                      
On the emptiness of matresses                                  

She looks for the essence
Mirror's Mystery
Following her own advices

Protects her beauty
Shows her wierdness
Royal and unharmed

She looks for a vibration
The sweet connection
The eyes that will kiss her

Child of imperfections

Innocent without a reason.

The world has moved on and I am fixated on one **** detail. A blank stare that lasted maybe two seconds before he carried on with his work. The look was indescribable because the expression was void of emotion. This is incredibly ridiculous, but I am so horrifically bothered by it. That **** expression. This **** minor occurrence has somehow managed to ruin my day. But here's the thing - this is routine for me. I know myself too well. I will be incredibly self-conscious from now on in that space. So many things go past that man, but my stupid digressions didn't. I am a victim of over-analysis. I will patiently wait for the day my memory will finally let this go.

Our analysis of the human race
Will forever burn itself into our minds.
The controversy.
The world itself and its ****** up society
Like a cold, smooth granite countertop with
Grey/ green mold and sharp stench from
Spilled milk. The rustles of a silent wind
Knock, KNock, KNOCKing on the windows at night,
The fear.

Is it something about religion, the fear?
My God is right while yours is wrong,
None of us steal, but a few of yours murdered, so
You all must be killers.
Do you cast spells, have you cursed me?
Ive had this stabbing pain in my side, do you do voodoo?
What if I knock, knock, knock on your door and
Shove it in your face because I am right and you are wrong,
Is this controversial enough for you?

Is it something about teeenagers, the fear?
Their whininess?
"They know nothing of the real world,
The hardships.."
*******.
"They're looking for attention, they are manipulative thieves,
Taking money from their parents,
Why can't they get a job?"
Because its *******!
There are no jobs,
School is based on answers, not trying,
Whining? Because we accept that the world will
Carve out our stomachs with spoons
And blame us for the red graffiti on the side of the train?
What about the adults and even some of our own that tell us to
Hole up and die because of the music we like
Because of our mental disorders,
“They cut for attention. Why dont you
Carve a little deeper and paint a pretty picture?
Feel the sting like being *******, motionless, next to a hornets nest.”
Is it controversial enough for you?

Could it be something about ***, the fear?
The clubs, the ****** and prostitutes,
The millions of dollars going toward their single parenthood every year?
The reality shows depicting teen pregnancy
Yet shunning *******?
It’s exhilarating, but it is a sin,
It is an instinct, but I am going to hell?
A boy tells his friend he got laid and he is the
Most popular kid in school, He receives a metaphorical blue ribbon.
His fifteen minutes of fame.
A girl tells her closest friend that she lost her
Virginity and she is known as the school ***** for the
Rest of the year, and maybe even onward.
Age thirteen after the first *** ed class,
"Momma, how does ******* work?
Do lesbians use ******?
Why is lesbian **** okay, but the other kinds are disgusting?"
Is that controversial enough for you?

Is it something about politics, the fear?
The money we do not have funding ****** in a war,
We have no place in.
Stronger guns with less of a kick.
The continuous binding of church and state,
Despite the promise from two and a half hundred years ago
That it would not happen,
Why can we not marry the people we love
Or cure ourselves of deadly disease without spending
What we do not have?
Is it controversial enough for you?

hot coffee and stale cigarettes
while i reflect upon circumstances
and i suspect that the regret
will dissipate, while hope appirates
and my self confidence condensates

so i compensate for a lack of self meaning
by pushing the boundaries of what you seem
to see in them; dreaming of my next moves
like a display at the art gallery
you need to stand behind the line
while i sing "come on over Valerie"

so it's self lobotomy
as i open my mind up to the aether
and either i push forward to let go of her
or i stab the inner me that says i need her

so i make friends with the ladybirds
wasps and the ant hills and burn my lip on my cup as
i make a move to get my fills
and make peace with the fact that everything must one day

go up in smoke.

nick

i'm looking for the switch
that i know must be there

it's like groping for the light in an unfamiliar room
all i can feel is the rough and rusty edge of an old filing cabinet
of a mouldy moving box,
and so i move deeper into the room
and trip over all the things i threw in there

but i still have to look at them

why didn't i have the foresight to clear a path? and why can't i find the switch?

i don't want to feel so powerfully. i need to find the switch and turn it off. Rip the nubbin out of the wall and eat it like a pill. Class A prescription for the pain. This is why i avoid making connections. i have a weak immune system and i catch feelings like the plague so that all i see are stars and bars.

i feel awash in an ocean of inadequacy and you ask me how i can't see what you see and it's because i can't find that ******* switch. when i think about it i fall about in stitches, while she wishes i wouldn't worry her but how can i even begin to relate when all i've ever felt is alone.

Brief flashes of warmth, and I can already feel the heat fading. i can read you too well and i can see too many steps ahead. so that i charge bravely into that new world knowing full well that in the end i will be alone again and you will have moved above me. all i can see are stars and bars.

i wish i could find the switch.

nick

We said goodbye after what
felt like just moments after
we had said hello,
for even though months
had passed,
we had both always done
our best not to
share too much.

Although I have gone to great lengths
mastering how to be aloof,
in that moment I
regretted so much my inability
to emote.

"You make it seem so easy,"
he breathed,
his face welling with discontent,
and I kissed him on the cheek
as I whispered,
"I'm good at making things
look easy."

He had the sweetest demeanor,
and my body trembled
in the gentle strength and
aggressive tenderness with which
he kissed me,
a passionate, bittersweet
exchange, as we became aware
that it might be for the
last time.

I've become so good at
being alone that I had not
even pondered how I might
actually miss him
once he was gone.

I think my lack of visible reaction
hurt him, but I
couldn't bring myself to be
vulnerable, to let down
my guard and tell him
that knowing we were
parting ways made my
insides ache in the most
unexpected and terrifying way.

Maybe we weren't ever
meant to be anything;
that was my thought from
the jump.
But when he looked me in my eyes,
his heart was so pure,
and I yearned to touch
my soul to his.
I settled for combing my nails
through his curly hair
and murmuring sage words,
masking the things I refused
to feel.

He sent me on my way with
his favorite record, and I said
the most unscripted thing I ever had
to him,
that I'd always think of him
when it crackled and popped.

The kindness of what he extended to me,
the vulnerability I saw in his
beautiful, youthful eyes,
the way he softened his tough exterior,
it ate at me the whole drive home
as I cursed myself for being
so cold
and wishing I could kiss him
one last time.

I still haven't been able to
shed a tear, my heart too
frozen to thaw,
but as the Ray Charles
erupts from my speakers,
I stick to my word;
I think of him,
and I ponder on the possibilities
should we cross paths again.

Should that moment never come,
I can still find him
in the words of my poems
and hear him in the
rifts of his record, so I guess, for me,
it wasn't really
"goodbye."

Months have gone by and still
you echo in my black hole,
your lips still brushing mine
in the wind that caresses my face,
your voice whispering through
the riffs and chords of songs,
your body visible in the contours of trees,
your face in the curves of the clouds,
and looking up desperately at
the night sky,
I envision you glancing at the same stars,
your soul having been imprinted permanently
on the Earth's ceiling,
so even when I close my eyes
you linger in the corners of my mind,
a universe of
constellations and planets,
galactic clusters of
immortal memories and undying
desires.
Months have gone by as I
continue to orbit around
the memory of you,
tilting onto your axis,
spinning round and round as
I try desperately to get back
to you, but you're
galaxies away.