You take heart right from my bleeding chest
Suffering cardiac arrest
All fears it seems are second-guessed
Scared this attempt will work out like the rest
Hurt a few too many occasions before
Tip-toeing on ever shaking floor
It's obvious you don't want me anymore
Need reason to keep on breathing for
Crashing lightning
Rolling thunder
Caught in current and it's pulling me under
I cannot help but stop and wonder
Why my dreams are torn asunder
No space left inside head
Taken up by lies you said
Wish I felt happy instead
Infected me with a sense of dread
It's not your fault
Torn in two
I have myself to blame for believing you
Your eyes oceans I fell into
I'm drowning in those pools of blue
Looking at yesterday
Tried so hard to walk away
Can't break chains around my feet
Without your touch incomplete

In the haze of it's flames
a man laid under Canopies
of  burning light of a siren
cutting through the smoke
as if it was paper.
Their voice, flooded with drought
loss of input
they weren't able to speak
nor breathe
it was suffocating
the texture of the brittle
firm cement, under their cheek
Thus all they had left
was a broken requiem
of a better day.

i'm sentenced to house arrest
by my own fear

i found u in the white of my fears
it was the feeling of being floating at the heart of nightly skies,
where u, sparkling star, followed me,
not realizing that we'd be immortalized

as much as i could get away,
a dark hole took us a way to the other galaxy

a world alone,
where the rain fills the craters of your face
i flood myself into fright,
when the creek gave me back and asked me to hold you

the feeling has become an addiction,
a secret language
the awkwardness made building,
a concrete denial

without aim to define
i arrest u
i arrest me
at an endless moment

Arrested.
A Windsor knot
binds my
fickle neck
to my dour
shoulders.
Plastic ties
elegant wrists
in pair.

One question:
Head up or down?

I lied.

Another question.
Atop a question.

Am I

headed up or down?
Give me redemption
or else,
how can I ignore it?

One bedroom.
An eager clock,
minutes
from my set,
or expected
The End,
happily
leaves me to my
routine.

One question:
Head up or down?

I lied.

Another question.
Atop a question.

Am I

headed up or down?
Give me freedom
or else,
how can I ignore it?

Can I really be who I want?
Can I really be what I mean?

Will I ever solidify?
Will I ever come to?

And who will come?

(. . .)

When the night silently whooshes
Over the sky,
It becomes that time of day,
The time to recline
And watch Dwayne Chapman and friends
Apprehend the wanted and charged
In the Hawaiian splotches of land.
Every cut to commercial
Happens at the ****** of each episode,
Starving the soul for what might happen...
When really the cut-scene continues
With less action than Beth, Dwayne,
Leland, Sonny, Cleo,
And Baby Lyssa may stir before a break.
Cars, cameras, and people
Move in hot-pursuit.
And thus the setting of the TV series
Isn't the only dimension
Captured.