i swallowed the sun and
washed it down with a little inky night.
now wildflowers bloom in my heart
and light fills my mind. these
words are solar flares of a
fallen petal.

the price of it all--
welded lips of unspoken words.
now other people mishear
and believe i am speaking,
but it is only the wind
whistling through
my teeth.

now i find that,
being alone is silence,
but it is never quiet.

right now
right here
i'm drowning
in thankfulness
that i feel like
i won't ever be able to
express in full,
so i write these words
to let out a little
water and get enough
space to breathe.

friendship is
the greatest gift
i have ever been
blessed with.
i'm indebted to you
in a way i could
never pay you back.
i know i haven't
been a good influence.
i was always bad
at being good.
i'm expelled now
and you're still here
by my side.
i know i saved you
from this punishment
but that won't ever be
enough.
even the most
taboo of my thoughts
don't send you running
and that dumbfounds me.
the moment that we have to leave
and part ways, is the moment
a piece of my soul is going to
die. i love you.
know that,
no matter what,
you will
always
have
me
as
a
friend.

i always romanticize
those past moments of
what i believe was
untainted happiness
because i am stuck in
the discontent of the
present moment, but
i'm always discontent
in the present moment
because i romanticize
those past moments
of what i believe was
untainted happiness.
i try to take life by the
throat but i don't have
the energy, and i don't
have the energy because i
have been trying to
take life by the throat.

i'm stuck in a cycle.
i am a fallen creature
and no amount of
effort or escape will
ever change the fact
of my dissatisfaction

but maybe i need
to give up and
accept that i am
dissatisfied, then
and maybe then
will i become
satisfied.

innovation: creation in destruction
matter cannot be created or destroyed,
and neither can art.
unity in paradox
we are
            passing thoughts sauntering in the winds of mortality
            drunken stupors, with eyes blurred, stumbling in a beautiful world
            famished spirits, consuming our own radiance
            fools caught up in our fabricated wisdom
            skeletal souls reaching for the sun's hand, while being consumed meticulously by the dirt
the reason i write--
to let you climb on my back
and maybe reach further than before;
pain is a part of life,
don't disregard it;
i have hope.
let us be free
in love;
do not search out pain,
do not search out pleasure,
do not search.
let us saunter as friends,
let us lie down and sing,
let us be passionate about beauty.
my hope for all of you
is that you will be the
heart
in this heartless world.
find glory in love.
find art in love.
find peace in love.
be love.

honest hospitals
no need to be afraid you
are already dead

the steady rise and
fall of your breath like the moon's
interstellar path

we are all plagued by the same
haunting disease.
every step on this wearied road
is just a step in our prison.
esoteric dreams of unchanging bliss
are humanity's liturgy.
the only steadfast thing in
this oxymoronic world is
dissatisfaction.
we are foundering in it,
wishing to drown already.
the romantics looked
to love,
now we look
to apathy;
but this prison
has no escape,
except death.
so we fell in
love
with the grim,
when fantasy
failed us.
now we sit here,
entranced with the mud but
dreaming of beaches.
meaningless,
meaningless,
meaningless.
we are the living dead.