Why would you ask me,
If I was okay with you leaving?
You know it kills me,
That you were laughing.

The human skin can be hard to live in,
That's why most of us tear it.
And I, my loves,
Am a hypocrite

I tell you not to tear such precious, innocent skin
While late at night
I hold my blade
And carve it in.

I like to push oh so hard.
Only to get the adrenaline
of seeing the blood and make sure I am still alive
Though I feel as if I'm not at all alive anymore

I'm a zombie
living in the palest of skin
And if your lucky
I'll let you in.

It doesn't happen often
But for some it may
Those lucky few
Will be dismayed

For I seem like a bright ray of sunshine
In this dark dark world
But jokes on you
I'm the darkest of them all.

isn't it interesting how the ocean eventually convinces the rocks to turn to dust?
or that with every drag of a cigarette, it eventually turns your lungs black
i just wish you could convince me to fall in love with you
but like the rocks turning into dust or your lungs turning black
falling in love takes time
and time is all we got

She came in
out of the green
Because any other entrance
would be far too common and simple.
She came in at the perfect moment,
when I believed the world was dark,
to shine a little light for me
and keep a beacon on that distant horizon.
Keep it shining,
Guide me to you,
And someday we'll meet face to face,
And share that cup of tea,
where we can see the other's eyes
and know that it
simply has to be-
Fate.

it was a day of sentences
snapped clean off at the root
and pulled from my mouth
like wisdom teeth
until i had none left
and i was out of words
out of breath

it was a day of stones
clinging tight to the walls of my throat
pebbles in my shoes
and boulders reduced to ash
slipping through my fingers
not enough to hurt anyone
but still stinging my eyes

it was a day of pink cheeks
not the tipsy, happy pink
but rather the wilted kind
inadvertently displaying
the red inside

it was a day of clenched fists
hands working overtime
dancing some twisted dance with no purpose
wringing, singing
an anxious song
as i stayed stubbornly in my seat
resisting the urge to dance along

it was a day of a need to run
into the bushes, through the woods of the crowd
and out to the other side
to the greener grass
and the cloudless sky
of a few minutes of alone time

it was a day of short poems
short fuses
all moments lived while the clock just ticked
and the bomb never went off
i'm still waiting

it was a day of waiting

You stood there, probably cold,
in the frozen foods aisle.
Actually, you had a peacoat on.
When I first saw you,
I only saw your back.
Your hair looked wiry and blonde,
I thought you were aged and frail.

When you turned around with a gallon of milk
your face surprised me.
I was swept up in awe and stared too long.
Your eyes-- blue, kind, and calming--
rested on pillows of roseate cheeks
that looked recently swept by winter winds of New England.

You looked at me, too, but with an austere expression.
I said, "I hope the tempest of your mind
soon finds peaceful resolution in tranquil waters,"
in my head.
She walked past me
her audible rhythmic steps
made with untied,
disheveled
boots.

A beatnik
simply keeping a beat.