Ocean waves have gently pulsed
in your ear, ever since
you walked out of the sea.

The moon, her shining face,
so far from home, holds your
hand and weeps in peace.

You prefer it that way,
standing alone, glad
the captain is going down
with his ship, in comfort.

I'm Rigor mortis
But provoked, move like viper
I'm mouse trap's real form

What happens when you become the mediocre you told her to never to settle for. No matter the metamorphosis you undergo it never meets her expectations, she read my manual and saw in the future. She tells me I'm capable of being all that she's looking for. That's when I shut down on the inside because everyday the agenda changes and she'll​ never give home work, work sheets, nor practice test to instill the teachings from the other days, only just exams. You know the big challenges that supposedly made up of everything you learn, and if you having a bad day and malfunction before you can test your might, it just looks like you've done nothing. I perform fine on a daily basis but when I'm given test I don't consent to  the collections of 1's and 0's freeze which leads failure like cutting the red wire. I'm confused if she's performing the job of a teacher or hacker with this slow but swift buffer over flow attack. Every passing moment of me living with failure that file contains a MP4 of me in that moment making her mad like when Google chrome is unresponsive , a MP3 file of her telling me what I did that repeats over, and over and, over again. A gif of my heart breaking down to it's last megabytes, and a gig of her love lost due to my corruption. She's not the problem though, she's the spectator, and sometimes the controller. I just want to make her happy, make her buy in to me like how we did when I was glowing with change not keep her down with chains. My next step is to rip out my mother board and tell her program me, cause whatever my programming is, it isn't up to par with her. It's crazy what we as robots do keep what's real.

When my gf fell in love with me, she loved that I was different. She loved how I was always there for her in a flash like a cheetah, chill like a sloth, but protective like a lion. The day finally came when she asked me what is my spirit animal. I told her I'm a chameleon, constantly blending into my surroundings, only eating the prey that's weaker than me that passes by. She saids I'm white washed, I need to be more hyena, more aggressive, aware, in touch with the wild, black. I want to tell her, isn't that why you loved me in the first place. That I'm just not another dog in a pack. Another dog whose defenseless when singled out. Another dog whose bark and bite can only be used in a pack. Another dog who searches blindly for his food. Another dog that you're used to, but I am not a dog, I'm don't see just black and white. I'm a chameleon, I'm not blind, I'm vigilant but never searching for trouble but when trouble finds me I have a cobra for tounge and a ability to blend in where I don't belong like no other. Instead spiting out the venom I've been brewing in my brain for 3 minutes I say, ok.

That's you,
You fool
You jest.

With life,
You flirt
You jab.

No lines,
You cross
You invade.

*******
Your mind
You scream.

Swine them
You act
Your scene.




          Stroke your own ego ****!

Only a fool jests
When the guillotine stands
You dare flirt when
Your face is like a jab

The invasion failed
When you crossed rebellion
Your mind screams ****
"I beg to differ. I'm so different."

I've seen enough.
The act stops,
At this very scene.

Meaning doesn't
mean
Meaningless things.

I bet, with
Closed eyes
You make bets.

Black is your comfort
In your little world;
It's your safety blanket
You haven't thrown.

Mink -
You had me killed
Resting softly on my shoulder.

You command to my ears;
Your -
Hot breath dribbles down my neck

Don't think I can't see
You're always in periphery -
Snow white silk, laced expression

indeed, Poisoned,
You now mean everything -
Maps can be drawn on the lines of your skin

glassy eyes, flaming cheek
Already your tail -
wrapped my neck and chin.

I was king and ruled the world
my crown was You -
Your velvet fur.

Starlight is just a crack in the night sky.
The night is just a cape for the daylight,
a shadow spanning the earth's blue surface.
The earth is just a blue marble spinning  
around the sun, catching a flash of light.
The sun is just a yellow bonfire
roaring in a space without sound or air,
like in your head when you read these lines.
This is just a poem trying to describe
the magic to be glimpsed in the night sky.

the chill of winter winds left with the Spring, I still feel the gusts in my bones,
I see our ghosts trapped in the trees

This forest is never blessed with the stars, The Darkness is the only thing complete, The Moon shivers, consumed by clouds

I strike black stones, but can't get them to bleed,
Your fading ghosts whisper, "Come back to me."

BG-4/9/17

If my tongue were a pen
every word would be a postmarked
love letter to your ears.

If my tongue were a pen
my words wouldn’t have
cut so deeply and left you
with coupons you’ll never

use and bills that are past
due.

The page is my playground.

My Church.
My Sanctuary.
My Womb,

Our eyes are doorways to
the secrets that make us
who we are

This dark haired face with three
day scruff and glasses is a
single sentence out of context,

and our chapter isn’t finished.

I am fishing on a lake
at five years old.
passing my driving test,
graduating high school,

I am both an old soul
who
lived too much
too young,
and a child reaching
for candles
in the darkness.

If my tongue were a pen,
my darling,

my soul
would slide its fingers
through your eyeballs

and bury itself in
the deepest recesses
of your heart

If my tongue were a pen
instead of picking up all the
bad memories of this apartment
with piles of ***** clothes,

you would
find the words and phrases
we phased out of our lives for a forgotten
reason at the end
of an empty bottle night.

I am moving to a new city at 25,
becoming a Father.
Invisible to my child.
A Stranger.

I am meeting you for the first time,
we are children holding hands
in the darkness
We were children jumping from
swings,
We were the children
who knew just enough

We told each other all our secrets
We shut doors
We blew out candles

if my tongue were a pen
My darling,

it would tell you
we are not a mistake.

we are a
collection
of unfortunate
accidents
that became
something
beautiful.

Turn the Page.

BG-4/10/17