I didn’t mark on my calendar
The day that you took your things and left.
I refuse to remember who I was before that day.
I’ll never look back and find the defining moment of who I now am,
But I have a feeling your footsteps led the way.

The calendar hasn't changed it's page
In 5 years.
It's hanging on the wall upstairs
Stuck on February 2011
It's too sad to turn the page
Because you were always the one to do it,
Until the day you died
In February 2011.

If only I could get a date for once.

And no, don't be an ******* and show me a calendar,

Followed by the saying, "Here's 365 of them."

Because it's probably a leap year, *******.
That would make 366.

But I need a date that's better than all the dates you could find in a calendar.

I need a date where the two of us could just be ourselves.

A date where both of us could have the time of our lives.

I need a date that could literally save my life.

With that one special lady.

I need a date with Lady Luck.

Or does she go by "Destiny" now?

I am the black sludge poured into morning mouths
The thickening blood like mucus oozing from the nose,
the failed vandal on the doorstep wringing
I felt this ick coming before, like bricks in the bell tower… Grimacing
I am the shifting surface of your beach front property
The wax of mudslide and sleep of glacier drift wiped away
You once tried to save me…,
But you should have saved yourselfrightchoseless… Sickening
I am the quite traveler giving ride to whomever
Provider of spectacles no testicales can compare
Hope you are ready for the next one cause my revolution’s in the air
Get the Mayans and the Call Lenders Cause I’m the blender you’re the pear!


Your thoughts fickled mine things
My water of youth your cesspool for fuel
The conduit of my poles peeled for golden rings
Have the nerve to say I’m not self-sustaining
Uninhabitable!   I’ve been more than hospitable!
What a virus that makes it self service unsuitable
To favor ill behavior for the sake of a savior
Your heads may bow to the east
But your *** still ***** none the least
Time after time provide I with a bountiful feast
So you Land on my Lover to satisfy your lust
Hover her then leave her collecting trophies, Moon Dust!?
Even the God of War has been fondled by your touch
They whisper, Oh how they want to flee me
They satellite and bend the light
And fore tell of my death
Well, Be Gone! And leave your clothes behind!
That flesh, My skin of desert and shore sand given.
The enchanted threads for your living experience
Be Gone! And don’t bother with packing up and cleaning
There will be no interrogation no exile from Eden

I’ll burn this wicked garden to the ground
Arrange my poles, and swish waters to cool it down
They are white clouds in my blackened blue atmosphere
Casting shadows on the crusted earth of my flesh
I frown a deep sound like bass clef
Their tall tale torn apart
The last vault too big to fail now broken Bonaparte
My molten core resurrecting to the surface
I smoke out for every hemp plant chopped and burned in vain
I offer fruit for Gods and you look pone it with distain  
These Human parasites stuck to my feet!
One whim of solar wind should cure me of their feverous heat


Ignore the Calendar your end will be what I vendor
NO refunds or replays back to binary Control Alt Delete’
You say the past will repeat yet look in a mirror, tongue and cheek
What is it that you seek? Have you forgotten My rule?
What you sew into me is what you reap
I’ve soaked in seeds of blood and tears now its harvest thyme to weep

On December 21, 2012
The world was supposed to end
Obviously we are still rolling in motion
And most of us are okay
Fast forward two years
On December 21, 2014
You finally kissed me in the midst of a crowded complex
And I was just thinking about how it was a coincidence that a few years back,
The world was supposed to end
But when you fast forward,
My world had just begun
On December 4th, 2014
I let go of someone else,
So that way I could truly be yours forever
We could finally start off right
I can remember that, clear as day.
We went on and I can remember when you first told me long stories about how your parents went from nothing
To successful
How you held my hand tight
But knew I liked you to hold me a certain way
And kissed me when I least expected it
How you always complimented me on the way I looked
But after awhile
I looked down at my hands
And I noticed the blood dripping down my wrists
And you'd secretly been stabbing me
While you ****** her
I noticed how angry you were with me
And I couldn't stop the sadness
I apologized for you being angry with me
I apologized for you ******* the life out of her
I apologized when I finally broke it off with you after coming home from the hospital
I didn't want you to leave
But I suppose it's better to leave the ones
That make you feel so empty inside
Like they've taken something out of your bones every time
And they won't return it, in the way you won't return the records I bought you.
I can't remember much of what happened that day
I'm good with dates, I swear.
I can name off the day we first kissed, the day of our first date, the first time I met your father.
I can remember your birthday, our anniversary, the first time you took me to that art museum
But I cannot remember the day I let you go
It's.. Like Ive blocked it out of my memory
I thought you'd come back
I thought you'd say,
"Baby, please. Let me fix it."
But you didn't.
And that's all I can say I really remember..
Well that and some of your words
That did more than just bruising my skin
The words you used to cause
Dents
And punctures
And words so sharp it took my entire flesh off the bone
I remember those
Like,
"You say I am selfish, but you are the one wanting to commit suicide."
And I am pretty sure I apologized for that too
Because it was something I always said to keep you from leaving..
That's wrong isn't it?
My apologies became as sweet as honey
They always danced off my tongue
And you were a bee,
Collecting it
Absorbing it
And taking it back home
But instead of putting it to use
You abused me with it
Kept doing the same **** things
I only made up excuses for you
When my friends asked where you were when he passed away
I said I'm sorry
This is something I said later when I was crying over him and sad that there was nothing I could do to stop my grieving.
I apologized
When you couldn't make it to the funeral
My god
You didn't even make it to my own
Because I had been dying inside the whole time
I said I am sorry
The date was March 17, 2015..

"I once thought I had mono for an entire year. It turned out I was just really bored."--Wayne Campbell, *Wayne's World

Pass this
        night un-
*******
                                            wingnuts­.
Opened
        casing
showing
                                 ­            my guts.

Fragmented seconds ticking, slipping
through the widening span
                                     of these small hands.
I've unlocked                         my innards
and the truth is out: it's mostly rusting gears.
I've wound down.                 I've ground up
days and weeks, upended months,
spilled crumbs
                         of my years
on pages, aging fast.
The faces show it's late,
                                        so late.

Time's up.
          Trickling
out of
                                        habits
Gutter
        ­   nights are
washing
                                         ashes
Into
                 Yawning
                                              Faces
fille­d up
                  with questions
                                              falling
f­rom the corners of
their weary, sunburnt eyes.

I'll tick off one more weekend, crossing
panels off a page.
                               Discard a month.
They've opened                    the archives
and the story's old, the golden paper cracks.
The faces,                               blank pages,
rifle past through volumes' deaf--
--'ning greys.
                        Intentions
forgotten, filtered through
the seasons' blurring hum.

                                              It's so late.

I’m obsessed
with counting.
Even the 47 steps
to my English class.
When that became
boring I created a way
to document, not  
time, but distance.
And 47 turned to 54.

681 days since I
cut 11 inches
off my hair.

359 days since he
said Keep in touch
when the last
thing I wanted
to do was touch him.

319 days since she
didn’t text back and
then 294 days later
moved 1,731 miles
away and by now I
wouldn’t even know
where to send a letter.

One day
I decided to get
another haircut,
but I no longer bother
to know the measurements
of the pieces that
are only going to be
swept away.

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, and weeks have passed,
How much more times I’ll glance and stash away?
As I sulk here, see me flip the pages
Of this nicely-collated calendar.

Counting down the moments I’ve raged aghast,
Clearly, this distance I can’t laud to sway;
Seeking too much on familiar faces
Just makes me miss you, so peculiar.

But then, this muse can’t bear this sweetest past
As the radio keeps on playing The Fray,
The last time we’re close, we target aces,
Wishing to go together so far.

Atop the sky, airplanes that appear rushed,
Oh, I can’t wait for yours to land and stay;
Permit me to write this, don’t file cases,
Poetic license is familiar.

So until then, I bid you my luck fast,
You’d have to remove the world’s mind of gray;
And I shall pray as you head down to places,
Don’t worry, I support you from afar.