the sight of soccer makes me sick
the smell of old spice makes my eyes *****
seeing a buick makes me want to curl in a ball
it always seemed like you stood so tall
above me
as i stood in your shadow
you were
are oblivious
as you chat away
every day
pretending to care
pretending
like you want me there
today you almost
read my poems
stupid
to lend you my computer
while it was up
you read one
two
three
before i freaked and pulled it away
it makes me
sick
this hopeless devotion
it curdles my stomach
this senseless inward commotion
reading like a sheakspere historian
into your every word
brush
comment
every time
our eyes meet
i fall a
little more in love
and get a little angrier
at myself
for succumbing to
this foolish
black hole
of a sickness

October brings me sap and dreams,
for tears are caramel on cheeks of cream.
The only sweetness to taste at night,
is the caramel sacrifice for my lover's delight.
Hardening to my heart-shaped face,
my heart's owner dwells without a trace.
Left wondering with my hardening tears,
is this love a reflection of earlier years?

You make me feel like crap

you ******* little sap

you cry about the world

but you torture all the girls

you stupid little sap

why do i let you treat me like crap.

Woke up in a dream under asphalt trees
soaked in the sap of the sweltering city
wearing these old rat rags
               and sneering at the concrete
Greyscale mindset stitched into my sleeve

This town'll ******' **** ya
               and drop a coin on your grave
dig your way up to the daylight
and hang on to your *****

                    Waking up
                    Snapping out.
                   It's not so easy, is it?
                  Waking up and snapping out...

The barge is afloat on the sidewalk streams
Burns in the summer, ******* doused in Spring
the bums puke in corners
               children ***** in the alleys
Sinking hulks. "Abandon ship!" on the galleys

These waves'll ******* **** ya
and pull you down in the deep
this dream ain't worth waking for
        But we can't get to sleep.

My heart cracked a little on the inside.
My ribcage caved from smooth words that slipped down my throat
like angel nectar.
On the inside a girl stands there with clairvoyant eyes and a hushed tongue,
but at the center there is a hollowness that remains.
The small things in my life slip through my fingertips so easily.
I cannot catch them.
Catch them.
or
Catch up.
Catch up to the feelings that I leave on the doorstep of my eyelids.
Since then I try to fill the cracks,
the gaps,
the spaces that yearn to feel the fullness I felt
when I was a ripened fruit ready to burst into maggots
and sweetened sap.