Are you fatigued?
Do you have irritable bowel syndrome?
Are there irreconcilable differences in your life?
Are you Homophobic...

"I climb 1,576 stairs"
"But I have a lot of gay friends"
once we've reached the top,
there are no two quarters for the lens.

What's driving us, this feeling, this wander?

Could you imagine,
If kind was ****** compassion.

Could you imagine,
If kind has no reaction.

What a day, what a day, what a day, what a day;
it will be.

Like children lost in corn mazes.......

filled with glee.

Hollow are those shallow times,
don't you
forget
about me.

What a day, what a day, what a day, what a day;
it will be.

Luckily those prickly vines, are fading fantastically.


TRF
         sometimebforehalloween

you ripped out my heart
you tore me apart
you chewed me up and spit me out like your dip
and yet im still waiting
YEARS later after 7 different phone numbers
im waiting
you abused me
and i don't take that lightly
BUT I TRIED TO FORGIVE YOU
you just decided to start over
the past is the past
and frankly im the past
new kids and a new step mom
but im still waiting

she's the type of girl
to give you your
favorite flowers
then stomp on
them before
handing them
to you

He started feeling sorry for himself
long before he had seen his reflection
in shimmery linoleum tiles
that stretched into blind corners

before the snap of magnetic doors
woke melancholy macaroni people
strapped to rolling recliners
staring past Plexiglas TV's

He wore yesterday on his shirt
a step at a time...

one two, one two

felt breaths collectively stop
when he walked the halls...

one two, one two

like watching a one legged cricket
with your hand over your mouth

As cold as this place was
his head had been on fire

slammed into paper cups
filled with pastel colored
blues and pinks and
why pills
rattled at him like a baby

He fell face first into tomorrows

slobbered on wooden spoons
for vanilla ice cream
that he said tasted like Wednesday

He would get animated
when they ran out of Wednesday
and had many rattle cup nights
****** up through a syringe

hands and thumps
pressed him up against
heavy beds of oak bolted to the floor

gloves pulled his hair
when he smelled like yelling
into plastic mattresses
the same color as his *****

and no one wants him *******
while their eyes are closed

they want to see it

they want to say things like
"we'll talk about this later"

wrap his wrists in sheep's wool, in skin
from his *******, clasped by buckles, pulled
tight enough to close his eyes

He should have **** his pants

because chocolate doesn't have a taste
and neither did feeling sorry for himself

Those bruises you once left on my hips
didn't look so good on my arms
I wonder how they look
Now that they're on my heart
*You would know since you're the one holding it.
How long did it continue to beat after it left my chest?