You're a million different people at one time, I'm surprised anyone else can keep conversation with you besides me,
then again you've got a million more faces in your backpocket to choose from

I've been breaking for so long but not yet ever broken babybee aren't you proud of me?
Words that never match the face they come from

Were you born upside down or something, honeybee?
It's so hard trying to work out your type.
I wake up sometimes thawing without your warmth but I've got the means to make a fire on my own, it is not flesh&bone it does not matter

I can't want what's left behind, there's never enough time to regret but still not a single thought inandof itself is useful,
I said I'd never leave her go and I never will,  I shall wear love's bruise and I'll be there for her waiting always
  but it's obvious here is a different story,
I'll be wavering the flag and smiling bright as any dream sun as we fall apart just as when we grew together.
She's not mine, this I know, but I can't stand to hear her cry whatever the motive
And it's so easy to be guided by a lighthouse when you don't see who's behind the light, your lights are bluer than you and how you left me, my bulb shines dull and sandy, and all you ever asked was for us to talk and for me to say nothing 'bout my self.
At first I didn't mind this but you kept on speaking

So long until you wore your voice to nothing

I loved you on Tuesday now it's Friday and I can't say the same

You've got nothing goin on, I'm the same but if we got together

You'd drag us both down,

This I know,

And I've risen too many times to even risk drowning again

   These days and I think I'll stay this way evermore and I don't blame you,
in-fact, I can only blame who's still here
I learn nothing otherwise
I learn so much about myself
From who I long for in my sleep and who I'm glad to forget as I adjust to waking up

and when she wanders my way

I'll be destined to ignore her

And settle for you yet again.

Man.
Woman.
Ghost.
Little wind in their sail.

Boat.
Watercraft.
Impulse.
Limited space on board.

Free from heart. Free from clothes.
Drunk together for a swim.
Errant, disinterested kiss, planted
under the keel.
A sparse ****** isosceles is struck.
Parts are muted and slit-eyed.
Parts are surface tension.
Parts are counterparts.
She pulls away, running below deck
and vigorously brushing her teeth
before weeping.
The razor of night struggles to sleep.
The sharp object thrown overboard.
No one wants to be first or last.

"We're out of words and moons and stars, there's no tenderness in us..." she said. "When did our love become the stab of ultimatum?"

I should have chosen Bermuda
Triangle over making that call
But never could turn away a friend
No matter the trap
Each button of the phone snaring me
Pulling me further into this three-way
Conversation, and I, the unlucky participant
In a love triangle I became enlisted in
When my best friend’s boyfriend
Decided the center more
On his crush for me than his love in her
So the random act of all of us going to a movie
Became a ruse, and I should have never
He should have never
Picked up the phone, once he said yes
I was done for, exiled
Drifting alone on campus
Guilty of his infatuation
I should have chosen Bermuda

I love you, and it's a mess.
You love her, who is dating him-
   and she loves him, but he won't tell-
    and I love you, while I'm dating them-
  and I love him, but I love you-
and thus, a mess is made.

I have five appendages: head, arms, and legs.
More complex than oneness: what of the
six joints of every leg and arm, or the seven vertebra of the neck?
Thus, looking at the body becomes more and more complex
until I revert back to where my body evolved from a single-
celled organism, which in turn came from water.

Emotions are like appendages, there are also five simple emotions.
Looking at them react together is very complex to follow each motion.

Then, to complete the divine triangle: body, emotion, and, knowledge, which is born of unification.
Virtue are singularities of all three together.

Spirit is service,
compulsion is a virtue of youth and vitality.
It is excess of enjoyment. It knows
less limits and adheres to less stillness.
Insanity is the virtue of enjoyment that is converted
to pain: a pain for others, if not sorrow for me.

Thus, when I am continually the object of my own
insanity, it can be hidden.  But when it affects others,
it becomes mental illness.