All my #2 pencils are chewed and the erasers are gone.
Half the pages of my books have been folded.

Sections are highlighted and notes are scribbled  
all over the place!  shaking head

The page margins are jammed with doodles,  
of flowers, cats, stars, hearts and names.

flipping pages to early in the year

September doodles are all John, john, JOHN.

Who’s John? thinking back
Oh, yeah. smiling  OH YEAH.

It’s good to review the book before midterms.

The world is dead
So please wake up
My words are mumbled
But I really want to talk (to you)
I know that time is still catching up
And your mind is just stillborn
But please
I need you
To just say hi to me

Ponder this well to understand more clearly

       that what we have as life

                is many-hued reflections

Am I a linger or a triggered scope?
Scored abundance of lust expanse



Sort of layered in a pictorial proxy
The substrate, mixed and sustaining.
Plain ‘scapes: the focal pointed sources.

i don’t want to lie
even if im embarrassed
im beginning to see the truth
it resides in your eyes

the reflection of myself
it’s beginning to lose power over me
i can’t tell you why exactly

the power you’ve given me
it seems to have rusted your soul
oh what id give
to go back and change that

my soul is drowning
grasping on to what it can to float
freezing slowly as it inches closer to the edge
to shield me from the wrongs within myself

your warmth protects me
it exposes the purity from inside
but how i wish i could protect you too