A rush of blood to the head
The excitement of dread
Why
Do we yearn for the reasons we bled?

To be free from reality
Can't see your mortality
It's no surprise
The devil loves hospitality

Nobody watches him slide through the door
You give him everything yet he somehow wants more
Let him tear up the carpet
The curtains
The floor

That was the last time

Every time
You swore

k.d.

I’ve realized I’ve set something in motion.
But I don’t want it to stop regardless of the commotion.

I face the fact that I need to quite smoking.
Because I’m sick and tired of choking.

I really need a light to help me through this.
Because alone I cannot navigate this mist.

A tender soul to make me right.
Even if I tend to fight.

This nasty odor I create.
And all I see is that other hate.

So someone please answer my biggest wish.
Help me with this habit I must abolish.

You can’t stop smoking
I can
You can’t ignore ****
I can
You can’t avoid drinking
I can
You can’t stop shouting
I can
You can’t shut up complaining
I can
You won’t drop that gun
I will
You can’t help silence
I can
You survive with violence
I can’t
Toleration with independence
Seizing opportunities for peace
Let the wire choke your lungs out
Hell in front, war of apes
Animals in the streets, Grodds
Telepathic maniacs attacking blocks
Rappers in the venues spitting fires
On every head spreading contagion
Zombies alike, transformers of Lannesters

It has been said many times before, ‘Old
Habits die hard’ and I agree, without
Condemning any of my own, as I begin
Unlatching eyelids, shutters to the real world,

To gentle caresses of sunbeams, furtively tiptoeing
Around the room, invading space, consistently crawling
On my bed, to reach my forehead and grant
A longed-for princely awakening kiss.

My feet touch the floor, a few steps next door,
I cleanse my face with tepid water, always
Appreciatively contemplating the billions years
Old interstellar ice, molecules composing each single drop.

I slowly walk downstairs anticipating the day, prepare
The espresso coffee ***, as I allow the radioman to shower
Me with the latest news I wish to block,
Roll my cigarette and open my precious laptop

Containing me and all my thoughts, a second brain
To register what I forgot. Look about in the meanders
Of a virtual world other than my dreams
And proceed typing words that combined create

Meaning, unleashing imagination, feelings and evanescent
Memories, observing my surroundings, once more asking
Myself why, each time I take a break and lie
By the lake, ants climb over my body.

Some of your words
are stapled
into my skin,
correcting me in times of error

i can't do most of the things I used to
my sensitive stomach is now back to the state it seems to belong in
tied in never ending, always tightening knots
4 hours, 3 hours, 2, 1, half an hour
I go until im numb and nearly collapsing
eyes glazed and burning feeling as though
they'll crack at any given moment
because I can't do most of the things I used to
a hot cup feels like it can destroy me
but the stinging and lovely burn seems to reside in me
like something that was meant to be all along
old habits do die hard, eventually at least
but now I know what the decay can do
it simply brings out whats even worse next spring

Still lanky dude with the long hair
Still can't tell you when, but I'm getting there.
Still the best poet you ever read.
Still don't think you'll read it till I'm dead.
Still gassing up past 3 AM
Still saying "Won't fall in love again."
Still waking up from the same dreams
Still getting air when I try and scream
Still wanna **** up a KMart
Still wanna skip to the next part
Still got a problem with some folks
Still tryna swallow and just choke
Still poor, still *****, and still tired
Still last resort if you need a ride
Still driving off of the Hairpin
Still hope the car lands in heaven

Still the one that loved you despite all of the pain
Still pulling the heart together, next is still the brain
Still the beating of it, stop it dead, leave it there to rot
Still wonder if you ever gave it a second thought

Still fighting toys in the playroom
Still saying "we're gonna move soon"
Still getting kicked out in August.
"Still this isn't breaking my promise."
Still smoking out in the same seats
Still hiding under the bedsheets
Still hit a home run in most cases
Still gotta touch all four bases
Still don't have the words for this feeling
Still tryna peel me off of the ceiling
Still chew my teeth instead of food
Still try to learn like I'm in school
Still hate the face in the mirror
Still my vision only gets clearer.
Still wanna ruin a Wal-Mart.
Still gonna race with the shopping carts.
Still scaling the shelving in home decor
Still can't go back, still banned from the store

Still gassing up past 4 AM
Still city streets, devoid of men
Still have to make wrong a few rights
Still, like a deer in headlights.