you toss my feelings back and forth like a tennis ball.
It was so asinine to think you cared at all.
you make it out like you wanna meight, but end up stealing
my heart, which isn't condusev in my healing.
You make me six. With me, you didn't have a rival.
I used to think you were necessary for my surfivel.
therefour, from here on, I won't allow you to crush me,
no more threel seeing my reaction when you touch me.
I don't understand people who just get together
to make you think you won and blow you off like a feather.
I half had enough and this topic's not moot,
I have zeroed in on my target and i am ready to shoot.

How can I burn when the son lives in me?

I used to think if I'm gonna have mistakes let em be rare.

But then I realised there's no learning there.

No fun.

So If I'm gonna have mistakes at least let em be *well done!

There’s a rhythm to that song. I think I know it.

The words, I’m not so sure.

But the rhythm, that’s what counts right? That’s where the feeling is, right?

I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t have the words.

Had no idea it was coming. Had no idea what to say.

But I knew how I felt. That’s what counts right?

Sometimes I have rhythm, sometimes I’m in time.

But I wonder, were you stepping on the same foot?

Or the opposite one? The right one?

And if I was dancing alone, was I dancing at all? Or just bumbling around like a recently evolved monkey.

Dance with me now. I write, you left

What the hell
When I have heaven in my arms?

I see Blake, I see Plath
I see the bike next to the block

Am I good?at your puns?
Spotting these metaphors and sensing
your lust
The Devil  himself between these mellowing thighs
Oh, He looked a lot like you Sean.

Undress not your self
But your gown
For me once
Disarm these plausibilities
I know where you're from

at least you still have your heart
i'm molded glass and iron
things are ice and cold
metallic, lacking fire
no understanding, just being
waves floated and crashed
days lived and passed
stories told, forgotten
words spoken, promises broken
hermetics exposed, porcelain froze
perfection, a far distance
many planes, lands, wildernesses and visions
spirit awoken, undone and redone
sure to speak up or be forever a silenced pun


*s.q.

Been piecing things together lately,
And frankly,
I'm puzzled.

the memory of
the blue in her eyes made
drowning in a dark blue
ocean an experience worth
living for

The girl's beautiful's
Not enough
Gotta check
if she suits me or not
Says Swamy Downey

Is she (a) cloth?
Wondered SIRI
Audibly

The ladder,

The one I’m forced to climb.

A lack of friction, I seem to find,

As I take the rung into my fingers.

And the vertigo sensation lingers.

I know my lesson,

Why should I persist?

Brace my feet, step up, and

Slip.

The question:

Should I give up

And fall regardless?

Or continue

And say I tried this?

With this knowledge, then,

What good is

The latter?