i am not a poet.

i do[can]not {will[can]not, is
what i'll do} write about the way the ******* trees bow in the ::deep-bone-ache-inducing:: wind like tranquil hummingbirds on a warm spring morn;"<could if i would>

i do[can]not {absolutely will[can]not, you know?} write about how i feel or how my heart broke or how my heart skipped or stopped or tumbled from my chest;'would if i coul d

i do[can]not {trust me when i say
i do[can]n't, please do} write about the
way i carry my life because i

f/abri..cat e a(n}
d cottonise and wrap my words in carbonated silk and polyest
er because i am no more than two twiddling thumb;s and too many cups of tea.

//subcons
ciously apart of the 98%
and counting, is what i am.//

::i spit lines at three am and shoot out'a bed with my lips moving with preprocessed words kissing my breath yet i forget more than half of it before i reach the pen and my skin::

[couldn't]i[be]am[even]not[if]a[i]poe,t.[tried]

for there to be a total and complete utopia that benefits all it would be an equal and bland life.
life without emotions that could potentially start conflict.
life without diversity to avoid the confrontations of opinions.
life without memories so we cant compare the past to the present.
life where no rules are ever broken.

life where love is treated just as pain so they exclude them from our lives.
life where music wasn't used to express ourselves.
life where your opinion is forbidden.
a life of mystery , more than there are today.
so a utopia that would be settle for everyone to be equal, and fair would be no utopia at all.
*we would all be faint echos of life.

My time with you is
the first few seconds before
all your flavor's gone.