I guess
It's my duty to express
Unpopular opinions
But
The only man I want
Leaving things
In my stockings
Doesn't wear red
He doesn't have a beard
And he's not fat
He's my Guy
With top shelf
On sale
For half price

I only know
Two things about
mistletoe
1. I've never parted
My mouth inside of
Its shadow
2. It would probably
**** to smoke

I don't need no fancy christmas trees
With lights, and stars, and hypocrisies

I've got hybrid harlots creeping
Down into the pink of
My cigarette kissed lungs

Stay with me. Tonight
I will share my soul. with you
until the night ends and the light shows in. Share with me
all your mad thoughts, fears and dreams. don't be afraid
to share your soul. I am hocked,
interested by the person i see. I can not wait
to see the you that most never do. Hear the words
you hold inside. be struck in awe
by you like a piece of art. Stay with me
so i may meet your true self.

I used to think I ruled the world
But now the days are long and cruel
Day by day I make it through
But I couldn't make it without you.

I ruled the world yet now you see
There's nothing special about me
We're both the same, me and you
Yet all alone I make it through

Without your hand in my hand
Without your grip to help me stand
I'll make it through my life alone
But I'll always wait for you at home.

x.

understand that nothing is real.

**.

search for art in all that you see (for art is present in all things).

***.

art is everything, nothing is real. we are left to conclude that art is nothing, nothing is art, or perhaps everything is nothing-which makes art more real than nothing, because it is in fact something.

xxxx.

when we smoked cigarettes in the alley way during winter, our backs against the cold brick wall; well, darling, that was art.

xxxxx.

you made poems and paintings and songs and dances, but i’d never seen anything more real (or perhaps less real) than the way your eyes looked when they were in love. and that, well that was the truest art there could ever be.

xxxxxx.

understand that your love is everything, and everything is art, but nothing is real, or art is nothing. my words will never quite be right, but your eyes in love were the rightest thing that never existed -(or existed more than anything).

i don’t want to love you
anymore
i’d rather love books
and words
and the sea
when it rages
i’d rather love
adventure and
late nights
filled with smiles

i don’t want to hide
anymore
i’d rather fly
to a far away mountain
and scream
at the top of
a blue peak
i’d rather explode
with virtue
like a light—
a star
who has met
it’s end

i don’t want to love you
anymore
i don’t want
the sun to fall
i don’t want
my coffee to go cold
or my cigarettes
to wage war
on my lungs
but there’s little to do
when the universe
twists
in it’s inevitable ways

Your soft lips met with mine,
you and I lost and entwined,
you trace my outline with your fingers
and your sensual touch lingers.
I quiver, I quake,
this is an ****** I cannot fake.

Your skin doesn't lie,
Your lips don’t either.
The soft touch of hand,
Upon body,
You give in.
Sweat, spilled wine and swoon,
Your heart skips a beat,
Only to match mine
In sync.
Lights on, lights off.
Beat harder,
Breathe faster,
Using our bodies to see each other.
Stop and go
Holding our breath,
Gripping the sheets
Until it’s over.