I will wait
Chin resting on my wrists
The circulation gets cut off
I don’t mind the tingle in my fingers

I will wait
For the letter I’ll never receive
A holiday I’ll experience lie-less
Perhaps someone with a smile
Hands me a bow wrapped box

I will wait
For the nauseating pit to fill
With spirit, or spirits, maybe spirits.
Who am I to decide at this point?
Or I shall, change of pace.

I will wait for that feeling I’ve felt
And I won’t suffocate the flame once it sparks
Or perhaps I will.
Polarity

Meet in the middle
Swirling each other
Two birds earning their wings.
The light somehow always beaming behind
Silhouettes now etched to memory.
Core.

Fingertips trailing my back
From one wrist, across the arms, down the elbow,
I lean in.
Rather than stop, or a crowd pleasing dip
You’ve waltzed away from the two step.
When did the time signature change?

Your left, and mine, we pass and part
Leading, you are no longer
Transition to a solo performance.

Leaving the floor, we exhale focused breath.
Shoulders still back,
Heads high - not subconscious.
Left, right, intertwined;
Now learning that even the steps backward,
Apart,
Are all beauty within the dance.

Handsome archer,
May your eyes crease daily
Wherever you fled to
I pray you're well kept

Selective student,
May they challenge you
Idle hands find trouble
Seek yellow in the brown around your pupil.
What do they say?
Lock in?

This was your request!
Recall

I still look for it by accident
Sometimes it's blue
The modern way of hearing from you
The stamps weren't expensive
But money never was the problem

former lessons I wish I grasped
Before it all fell through my hands
We think of each other
You? No them, or him, maybe her
I wish I understood then
I wish they didn't cancel the show
I wonder if you noticed, too?
Will I ever see them again? Or him? Or her?
Or you?
I need to release the control I never had
The tail I'm chasing was clipped - who knew?

Is nothing tangible,
But to be enjoyed
And dissected,
Experienced by some
You’d love,
And hate,
But nonetheless
Through loving me
They’ll know parts of you -
Which is beautiful,
And sad,
Like a muddied Monet
With gorgeous ponds and
Lillies,
Yet the water is ice cold
Waiting endlessly for the plunge.

She spends her morning icing up,
Drawing on those brows.
Thirty minutes, all it takes
The talons and teeth, feverish though she takes.
Unbothered, gleeful even
The glassy eyes promising purpose
Yet here we are
Icing for thirty minutes.
Too many cans in one bag,
The cat would've been fine.

Though it really seems they could
A seemingly inevitable parallel
Always between what one deeply desires
And what awaits on the other side of that sharp and beautiful exhale

again and again and again and again?
****!
A comedic autobiography with tinges
nihilism Darwinism sandwiched w professionalism?
it really is stupid and oxymoronic

Are delusions any more tangible than fleeting confidence or a temporary motivation?
Contemplating I no longer have a grasp of what is tangible
The root of the void has been in-
Distracted by housewives.

you're new but feel so familiar
character you're named after, you're shocked i know the reference
i used to spend my days breaking in the spines of crisp new pages
I'd love to write a book
do I appear uneducated?
stellar gpa, i knew it wouldn't be important
but that is relative
my book and street smart have shifted balance
i'd take the charge
media rotting my brain in a way the magic tree house never did
books you can choose the ending
i lack the ability to think forward
stuck so vividly in the present, I prefer it to the past.
opening my eyes has become the turning of a page
it all ends and starts again, always. everything.
cover to cover in 24hr. where has my attention gone
a series of short circuits keep me afloat
i hope my stream flows somewhere beautiful
i do miss the mountains
why do I gravitate towards what feels familiar

What happens

An unforeseen fact
You’re in love with an archer
Fourfold
What luck!

Over this ominous thing, stumbling
Feeling its pulls
Strangled and taught
I pray to god?
About this karmically translucent string

I guess the waves can't
Warn the beach
Aside from the waves
Which have measurable patterns and habits
Silly people never pay attention

justice for former bloodshed

You launch your car through tunnels
with flashing rows of lights.
The bulbs maintain their static,
but the speed overwhelms your eyes.

She burnt a disk of songs for you,
the consideration makes you freeze.
Is this beginning of the end,
or are you being teased?

You follow in sprint, stars lighting the beach,
and engulf her in your hug.
She cranes her neck, and kisses deep -
**** me it felt like love.

You start your chain of lying here,
both aside her and to your kin.
Soon she’d learn
she’d never conquer
trusting you again.

Damage
**** Edge

Do I long for more?
The delight of a Taco Bell burrito
Or the cats pawing at my legs?
I’m hangry but it’s definitely the cats
Maybe

If you think of me
What you think

And won’t
Think or write;
Find the lining, copper search collapse.
Death
We witnessed together.
Foreshadow, always tends to.
Unease in my chest
Blessed to feel, everything always.
Growing
Tired of this painful polarity.
A scab shall be buried

It burnt my hand
My pale skin started to boil
Alike throwing my stretched fingertips through glass
Hot, fiery flashes charging through my spine
A sharp inhale through clenched teeth
Eyelids locked together
My knees buckle, the carpet burns
An all too familiar nauseating sensation
I can't look
What was I reaching for?
You're not there

yesterday's shift still aching in my bones
one more hour still isn't enough
unrequited energy, metaphysical
tumultuous intrusions echoing through my bones
home is an allusion to the beginning and end
feathering memories, a time capsule before you go
unconscious peace, finally good rest
lethargic upon wake, it will be indefinite.

And you chose me
All of me
As I am
And I tried my best
To stay asleep
And soak it in
But the alarm always goes off
At an inopportune time

Banter
The weather
Sports, and your beer.
Non alcoholic? Why are you here?
“Tonight’s the night”
No, sir, time for bed.
Closer to my mom,
Mr. Salt and Pepper head.
The ‘tenders as inmates
Some lager with lime,
Expressing cheeks clenched
The duration of time.
“The ladies are splitting rations,”
They giggle and pour.
The crowds coming in
Time to head for the door