The man was truly strange
Hiding cards behind his clever fingers
Cleverer than me.

He winked down my hood
And laughed
Who he was was not important

In the circus tent
Nothing held power like the cards
And he said

'I deal in cream and grey,
Put a cross in my hand and
I am what you say I am.'

And now he has a roguish smile
His feet turned up and
The bell rang

I put down the pencil
And he froze
Never to move again

He dealt in cream and grey
He delved in graphite and imprints
Nobody told him otherwise.

You'd be pretty lucky,
if you caught my eyes
staring back into yours.
I'd like to tell you a good reason,
weave a tale of heartwarming lies,
Alas, there's no story behind my evasive eyes.

I nod when I mean to scream 'yes'
To every whim you have.
I smile when I mean to laugh.
I compliment you with the most beautiful of words,
In my silence, I hope you hear me say.
I was born a misdirecting sign-post,
hoping to lead you the right way.


If you'd know me, I'd like to believe,
You'd fall in love with me.
Indefinitely. Instantly.
But in this infinitesimally small moment
that we share,
In an obnoxiously loud world that we stay,
That little space between us is all it takes
For all that is unsaid to lose its way.

If you'd know me, I'd like to believe,
You'd fall in love with me.
Instantly. Indefinitely.
If you'd give me a while,
You could hear, you could see.
You'd know how hopelessly in love I am,
as inarticulate as my thoughts may be.
But with the years it has learned,
This stupid, hopeless heart of mine.
That it simply does not have the luxury of time.

The world is an aquarium

We all have a tank

With a paragraph of information about us next to our tank

When people see you they notice your looks and move on

If you are a tall skinny blond boy with blue eyes the girls will stop and get to know you

If you are a shorter boy with brown hair who has acne and is wider people might just move onto the next exhibit

The people in the tanks can't tell what they people on the outside are saying

But they don't care

They are all unique and they know that

People will always judge but they are not the ones you should try and impress

You are the only one who can truly judge you

The drooping sun stood across the wooden bow,
showering it with drowsy thoughts for the wooden boy
In the abandoned graveyards where pavements were abolished
Plaid plague nourished the jingling broken eyes

The graveyards of dreams and graveyards of clocks
Will deliver the nails of sorority locks
To cradle the soft heat of the drenched sun
To bring on temptation of demolition’s sons

Let’s say that the pavements of hopes were of pain and vain
The vines were vanity and the roots were dignity
If agony keeps us close to our core,
then drench pins on my head to keep me human

My stool is black again, I've been smoking
She said, "I thought that you quit"
I said, "I never meant-" cough "I never meant"
She said, "You said you could anytime, anytime"
But what's the worth of words spoken,
when you never meant, you never meant

To give the impression
you'd follow through
Only to sate the voice of reason in a poisonous
miasma of destructive and ambivalent
tendencies held too long and too deeply pressed

Uh oh
Cough, cough, cough, cough

. . .Cool.

It is said that those
who have emotionally touched you
leave an everlasting imprint
on your beating heart
and shining soul
An impression of sorts
like one of a fingerprint,
the swirling patterns of their delicate fingertips
pressed against our skin
leaving a permanent mark
for everyone to see
a tattoo of beauty
or sometimes,
a scar of spiteful hatred
and sham
The imprints left on our skin
eventually travel to our hearts
recreating our character
and traveling to our souls,
shaping us anew
taking and reshaping our very beings
to become a kind angel
or a vengeful demon
refining our once innocent minds
to become something else
Fingerprints pressed to our eyes,
lips,
hands
and feet
either leaving us with good impressions
or wicked intentions
It is not for us to decide
whether those who touch us
leave fingerprints of swirling beauties
or a labyrinth of anguish
but we can decide
what we do with these unique tattoos
and what we create using
their magnificent power.

We may not be here
But the words shall remain
Conveying our feelings
Only link to our hearts
Between the transient phase
The paper shall hold forth
Valiant words of the soul
Circumstances happy or sad
Words which flowed profusely
The pen that we held
To explore our being
Every signature of the ink
Will bear our uniqueness
A lasting impression
Of the poet’s life

You said you love me.
But maybe I should start running,
Start trying avocado salads,
Start watching less drama series.

You said you love me.
But maybe I shouldn't cry too much,
shouldn't speak up too much,
shouldn't help too much.

You said you love me.
But you said I was scary
when I hang out with my friends.
You said I had changed
when I didn't reply your texts.

You said you love me.
Or was it the impression of me?