maybe it's about time you knew
all those days i spent hiding from you
it was all because i was ashamed
i was terrified of the look i'd get from you
i was paralyzed knowing you'd hate me forever
for all those hurtful words i said
for all the lies people told you
i am sorry
but how could i accept forgiveness after all these years
you were utter perfection
my dearest love and i tore it apart
but i am no longer afraid for your soul
i see you've been swept off your feet by an angel
and she adores you with everything she is
i'm so happy
but i am also heartbroken and jealous
of a love, i could not give you and denied to you
i suppose jealously gets us all
deception playing around with our little minds
it was about time i told you what i feel
maybe one day when i run into you on the street
when you look at me the way you used to
and everything will back into place the way it was
even though you're so close
i know i'll never be enough for you
of course, i still think about you every day
because all those days i spent hiding from you
made me want you even more

suppose,
now you know

I know nothing of my neighbor’s freedom.
his limits; if any are placed upon him.
seems to come and go as he pleases,
seems content, at ease.
Still, I don’t know when he acts or why.
When does he take action indeed?
Is his mind free of oppression?

I wonder...
But, it is not my concern.
I have my own thoughts
and my own actions
to consider.
A cup of coffee
or death?

There is nobody to leave you in the sands,
Where you leave yourself and the range of thoughts flows freely,
And the 20 mules are stuffed in some museum--their final gift

There is no place to clean your wounds
Just sand to stunt the bleeding

The Paiute, drunk off cactus and smoking themselves into oblivion

They understood that the desert has no need for sadness
the desert IS sadness.

Searching for what? Food? It's all spiked and scared of you out here--
No love on this plane, just in the shape of things

The nick of *****

The bleed of seed

The dream

Eternity.

Everything has an ending.
You favorite song gets annoying,
Your friendships fall apart,
Your passion evaporates,
Your book has it's last dot,
Your life ends.

But every ending is a beginning.
You find another song,
You connect with other friends,
You discover new feelings,
You read another book,
The memory of your being stays alive.

Every cicle has an ending,
So it can start fresh again.

it's not bad,
it's not good.
it's okay.

it's okay,
it's alright.

it's not good
it's not bad.
it's alright.

it's alright,
it's okay.

it is what it is.
it is it.
and it is what it is.

What's wrong with you?
Who do you think you are?
Look, he thinks he's tough,
he thinks he knows everything
Seriously who does he think he is
Do you think you're Prince Regent
You think you're a hard man, yeah!
How dare you, how ****** dare you
You wanna mess with us, do you, big man

Don't you know who we are!
We the business, we're more than you
We ****** rule the ******* ****** world
We rule your ***, we make and bend the law
We take and we give, we are the ****** *******
We block and you're finished, no ****** ****, no life
We come from the South, East, West  and ****** North
We are gangsters and we got the contacts and the contracts
When we say jump, you ask, how ****** high should I jump

Look this ****** small geezer playing with us
How dare you making us feel frustrated and ******
We'll got all kinds of mind **** ready to do your head in
How dare you not play ball, a woman set up to wind you up
Now we're not getting inside gossip and juicy stories to use
Now all the women waiting eagerly to hear bedroom gossip
are all disappointed cause you are not following the ****** plot
We can't bend your head and frustrate you and stress you out
You ****** small man, you're not even tall and you wanna diss us.

Who are you you little ******
We spend all our valuable time taunting you
We try and depress and torment you and you laugh
What do you want, do you wanna mess with People's Power
We can make you disappear if we want, do you know that big boy
We put all kind of moves on yer and yet you struts like a king
We harass your ****** mind and try to demoralize you
Listen sunshine you better stop being such a ******* smart ***
You think you ******* know everything, making us look ******.

You better watch out, you better watch ****** out
Cause ain't no Santa coming for you, we are the Rulers
And we hate you and your big ******* ****, you ain't got *****
You are costing us ****** money, time and energy, you effin ****
Do you know some of us sit all day thinking up ways to get at you
Do you know some wait in the ****** cold to watch you all day
You think its easy having to think up nonsensical things to write
Or making up all kinds of scenarios all because of you *******
You think you are superman, Atlas and Einstein rolled into one!

Do you, George, Answer me George.....answer Me!!!

It was like being too big
Wishing you could disappear
Inside the ever-growing
Crowd of people
As their eyes wander onto yours
While you try to ebb away
In the corner

But much too small
Inside this body
Like it could not contain
All your bones and muscles
Like your skin
Needed to be stretched out
In order to hold it all

It was an awkward in between
Of being too big
But also too small
Of being too much
But not enough
Like being nothing at all
And everything at once

i want to show you that i am better without you. as if showing you that you aren't needed anymore will make you leave my thoughts alone. as if shouting at you would make seeing you in the halls less painful. as if this would cause my dreams about you to stop.

i want you to know that i only think of you in rage. a burst of sadness, hate. you can go away now, i don't love you anymore. i never loved you actually. you killed every part of me, and i called it love.

thats what love is supposed to feel like, right? love is a constant fear of what is to be broken next.
that wasn't love though, i hate to see who finds that love.

this is it. the last poem i will write for you. you once were all i could write about, all i dreamt.

goodbye for the last time, ayb.

Today I'm filled with muted optimism
Something not often seen skulking around my peripheral.
Some retail therapy and a ***** free day.

I write you blinded, literally, consumerism blaring,
shining RED in my eye. My new shoes and sparkly
chemical incentives sitting comfortably on my feet
and in the back of my skull respectively

you know? Just above my nape.

The weekend is over.
That person has left, incised from delicate parts
where hurt feels more justified than starving children and
diseased refugees, "oh so woe is me" avoided.

We shouldn't have gone skiing together, the snow was far from ready.
The passengers leapt from the derailing train, terrified of sludgy wet slopes.

This time around I won't let them come so close. Stiff arm, no more than three. No more poems for you, or freedom for me.