I started
buttoning
my clothes,
hugging them
as though
cold.

days are full of tulip lipping, like easy slipping of the
fingers through theory strands, soft-soiled land
    dip      yourself in

nights are littlesilver
slivers of one another, getting smaller and then larger
and then smaller again

Wind whistles wildly over a wonderfully watery world.
Sand sifts softly through shimmery, silvery snow.
Letters lay lightly on a lazy, lumpy list.
Rain rakes rivets in a rough, rambling road.
Fire fights fiercely through a farmhouse far away.
Dawn dips daintily, and dooms the dark to day.

Streetlights illuminate early morning fog
as night passed it's song down river
to the open sea.

As the curtain lifted
in this center of town,
those who are curious
peer through broken slats
to catch his eyes fixated on possibilities never realized.

Within this thick aired and desperate
theater of the round,
he was a tall man even lying on the ground.

Sometimes I like to wear an oversized shirt and socks
and then sometimes I like to wear nothing

Some days I feel everything at once
and some days I feel nothing at all

Some nights are spent dreaming of lands far away
and some I didn’t even realize had gone by

I like to be alone
but I hate feeling lonely

I love my family
but my door is always locked

I’m very keen of white cause it represents purity
but then black represents depth

Coffee makes the world a better place
but tea can be had at any time

Pools are relaxing
but the ocean makes me feel alive

I enjoy living
but I want to know what happens after death

I am my own compass
pointing north and pointing south

Torn between myself
and what I feel

and if that’s not confusing enough
the compass never stays still