Let's be honest here,
you might be hurt now or your feelings might borderline on hate
but when he texts you next monday, when people are starting to get ready for bed
you will answer his 'wanna come over?'
with 'sure' and 'im on my way'
and it would be okay, because baby girl you need this
you need something to look forward to,
so that tomorrow wouldn't seem like a bad idea and to make light a little more bearable.

But after please,
do not long to stay,
do not long to sleep on his bed or to have his arms wrapped around you,
and do not steal kisses from him after *******
because it would make you hope for something definite.
For him you will always just be a bed warmer
your number on his phone would never have a name
he might burn you with his kisses
but behind those lips is lust and nothing more

if you hope sweet girl your heart will be vulnerable to his charming smiles and his comforting scent
you will fall over the same dark cliff
with the same cold ground catching you

love, your wounds are still fresh
your bones are yet to heal
he is not a replacement
he's just something you need
to remove the remaining traces of the past from your skin

please do not give another man power over you

instead gather your abandoned clothes on his floor and walk straight to his door and thank him, you might not be coming back next time.

it's not even midnight yet
and i've smoked my last cigarette
i'm a few shots in
i'm on the borderline of sin
i've been waiting for this night
to call you without fright
to beg you please
let me on my knees
i'm sure you'd elude me still
i'm sure you've simply had your fill.

Asleep in a train car,
Picturing a mansion and enough space to scream your thoughts till they're all around you,
It was that expansion that at once,
Excited, then frightened me.
They all want things to be different.
When you were younger,
Challenges appeared limitless,
And as you grew,
The challenges became impossible because it would have meant defeating yourself.
And I believed those who gave me a borderline dead silent goodbye as they shipped me off to get lost at sea,
What seasons changed when we played the same games as new people,
Revolutionaries, enlighteners,
Life tells the ground to crack at what points growth can occur,
And the earth responds in kind.
Infinity matters not when your heart stops beating.
Set your mind free and make the world understand that you protected all you had because the worth of what pain you kept inside was enough to bear a burden,
You wore it well as it tore down your walls.
A casual suit at a water park.
Bathed in insecurity,
Insecurity and promise.
Promises are preludes to tragedy.

Feelings overflow me, like waves washing over me, stalking my back, you make me feel sad, I put on a mask to make me not sad but it never lasts for long your singing my song, you make me feel wronged, I wish you would listen but then we start kissing, then I start missing you more. I feel like I'm crawling to shore. I thought that I knew you before but now my heart is at war. I still cry on the floor. Still wanting more. But I guess you went out the door.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so intrigued by a woman but so afraid to pursue.
How does one explain a drug that he has never taken?
An addiction that one has never experienced…

Sometimes I wish this feeling would be subdued…
But every time I’m around her I can feel her etching deepen
And withdraws are borderline deadly in her absence

My mind can’t escape her
Her smile
Her laugh
Her voice

And yet I want to resist
I can feel the fear wrap closely around me
Like a mother comforting a child from the rain

So I checked myself in
Though the doctors had no cure
Because there is no cure when you hearts yearns for love

Sometimes I lay awake at night, rejected by everybody
Because I've been caught in moments of meaningless love
Taken in by strangers and shown a familiar world
That I know I will never rise above

What have I been waiting for?
Why can't I pack my things and leave?
You brought me here, and left me in denial
But this world was never meant for me

Sometimes I sit alone and worry
And drink away the night
The cards are dealt, but I've no hand to play
So I sit until I see the light

It's borderline illusion
A sleight-of-mind I've played on me
But it's merely self-amusement
I'm too much in love with your treachery

I worry.
and when I do, I shake.
instability becomes
of me and I
continue to let my heart quake.
in 21014
what I do when I worry about you
is search your name
on Facebook
on Twitter
on Instagram
any medium that
displays your attendance
active participation
in indulging in anything else that isn't me.
what are you sharing?
what is on your mind?
who is on your mind
if it isn't me?
does the video you just shared help you make sense of me?
I want to know
and so I search.
quickly moving, borderline trembling
as my sensitivity to you heightens.
i
want
to
read, comprehend, sense, indulge
in you
in hope that
you
want
to
write, describe, illustrate, get
me...thirsty.

borderline obsessed,
reach-for-the-stars-over-the-fence
with a side of nausea & self-loathing.
bus side advertisements like Post-It Notes,
Manolos and Choos berserk in clouds of smoke and storms of ***.
lots of ***.
rice pudding, saltine ******* sandwiches
and coloring with breakfast banter
illuminate a beige bed of two sullen indents
draped in love

I'm ten-thousand things,
And I'm ten-thousand people.
Ten-thousand things that make up a me.

Sometimes I'm happy,
Sometimes not so much,
Sometimes I'm somewhere in-between.

We - as people - are all made up,
Of an uncountable amount of elements.
Always twisting and changing
Recreating, rearranging,
It's no surprise that sometimes,
We change like the weather.

Sometimes I'm sad,
Sometimes I'm neurotic,
Borderline psychotic, on the cusp of insane.

You're ten-thousand things,
You're ten-thousand people,
And I love every one just the same.

We are but streams of atoms
saturated with strange beliefs
rituals and rants, circuses of  meaningless blather

yet we follow trodden footpaths
to the same end
once gone, gone for good.

all the crap that comes with afterlife
all the books and mementos gone too
'gone for good'

so this is life
live it in abundance
dance where you must
become a borderline personality
write meaningless drivel
so what

religion exists because people exist
did god make man or man make god?

bury me with no mantra or magic
or shoot me into space
once again into the stream of atoms
of nothingness.

Author Notes

Optional
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

we sing the concrete jungle
(you can get lost in the country, too)
in fact, you can get lost anywhere that is
and people that drive away from their problems
thinking that it really is location, location, location
are lying to themselves

because the reason he decides to take a job in Utah,
probably isn't because he hates where he's at, or because
his boss is a ****, but because the unease that pulses through
his hands tells him, verbatim, that you could belong somewhere
else, you just need to keep moving.  If you've ever tried to run
and talk sense into yourself at the same time, you'd know that
the two aren't so much mutually exclusive, that you're either
running or you're thinking and most people
don't like to be




alone




with themselves, so we've perpetuated the notion that distractions
are healthy and ourselves are not, that most thoughts are too heavy
to bear and the crack of each cannon drives you borderline pyschotic,
so we hide in the trenches or break for the trees,
pretend we don't exist,
pretend we don't hear
what goes inside our heads
and all the feelings that could
be real that churn inside our chest
like the taffy machine in Depoe, Oregon
wrenching and loving and yearning and angonizing--
how we've learned to so mercilessly ignore ourselves
is beyond me


so when we pack up our travel trailers and claim that
anywhere is better than here, I'd propose that everywhere
is the same, and here or there, whether between the red rocks
in Moab or the aspen trees in Palisade, while ultimately different
coordinates, look
just
the
*******
same

all of life’s a game & i’m playing to win
this means making love to myself & apologizing to my ruined skin
this means i give a smile to every stranger who looks me in the eye
this means the word may be sharp to the touch but i am trying to be very soft.

we’re all a mess of broken hearts & tangled brain wires
empty stomachs, borderline suicide bids, a telephone call away
from an emergency waiting to happen,
but i’m sick & tired of being bitter.
this is how you thaw.
this is how you taste sweeter.
this is how you live, now,

dear brokenness: i do not belong in your cemetery.
my roots have spread wide & deep,
i am anchored to this earth with everything i have left.
you gave me a shovel, said to dig my own grave
& i used it to plant a garden around me.
here is where i learn to love me.
here is when i hold my own hand.
here is how you start over.

Our love is
so sweet and secret
Kept locked up behind bedroom doors
and the doors of your beat up truck
Our love is
clever woven words
trying to out-do each other
Our love is
our faces getting too close,
eye contact that last too long
Silly things that didn't exist before we created them
Our love is
the moment between breaths
the spark of a lighter
the hidden smiles
the looking
the looking away
Our love is
borderline insanity
Our love is
like nothing other
because this love
is titled

"Just Friends"

You test me
With this physical cliff
This distance
This depressed want
Verging on hopeless need
That I feel coming up the back of my throat like *****.

I can feel the tension
From my swelling
Aching wrist
Held so fiercely by the bond of word
You stand on
This borderline obsession
I have come to salivate for
To yearn so numbing that all other thought comes to hault
Persistent tugging again on the links
Holding me back from madness

From wanting to force your hand in a direction
I know only pushes you away
But this need is a painful thing
Manifested by the  fear
Of loneliness,
An overarching call
To the inner most basic part of a woman

Needing to be needed
Needing to have purpose
To get as close to someone
As she can and not have to let him go
Even if it is but for a moment

But that moment
Is what she lives for
When all the buzzing blind meaty cattle of society
No longer  swarms her ears with an insatiable
Craving
Wants of something they have not earned
Not worked for or built upon

The essence of her being leeching like a cracked
Egg on pavement
Humpty did not fall
But rather was pushed

That moment means
Absolution
The connection deep
Punctuated with the feel of two heartbeats in one
Being
One creature seeing
Touching tasting and thinking of nothing
But the feel
The motion
The sensation of this blistering
Blatent bubbling chaotic
Dynamic coming together of
Pieces once whole

my being changes   all the time
I doubt your love   and all the beautiful things
it has brought me    I feel myself forgetting   all the things
that make us   us   and binds   us   like grapes  in a bunch
I feel myself   falling   into holes   and fake
stories,   trying to feel myself    even though
I don’t know where   to touch  
where
do I hurt?
is the energy I’ve always felt    just sadness
that rolls from me   to you   to all the people
I’ve ever known        the food bloats my belly
but it’s always better than feeling nothing     how scared
I am to start crying out   of nowhere     scared of what
others may say about me

how much is too much    I just push you away and  want you back
it’s like a game    how far can I push you out to sea
and reel you back in  

how does it feel to be gutted?

Here I go again
On this road called life,
I called mine a joke,
Help me I am broke,
But not money,
I don't need a twenty,
I need honey.

Here I go again
Threading this path,
Mine is comedic,
Borderline neurotic,
Marginally pathetic,
Definitely hectic.

Here I go again
On this road alone,
Thrown and blown to the unknown,
I am the unknown.

Here you go again,
On this lane,
Your laughter remain
One you couldn't contain.

Here we go again,
Life is amusing,
But never entertaining,
Life is comical,
But never logical.

Do I make sense?
Is this intense?
This life
At whose expense?

Borderline thoughts:
better to self medicate with pasta, than a bullet

I was dark and gray,
I was night and slept all day.
I was violent, borderline insane
Funny thing, love...
But do you remember me?
Do you remember my name?

I am day
Sometimes, I sleep at night,
I somehow always forget to turn off the light.
Some say there is always another.
I beg to differ,
Do you care to debate?

I remember looking on your hands,
Seeing the more tempting Aspects--
I saw your past, Our Future.

The greatest test, this.
See if I go overboard, make a change.
So far its all wonderful.
Except one thing, I cannot forget you.

Midnight, three sheets in the wind,
Bellowing in the breeze, As if I were free...
I cannot dream, only able to muffle my screams...
Torture, on my mind,
As I lost not only once,
I cannot fathom Twice?

Have you seen your reflection?
Remember? your Promise?
Return the favor,
Our love, I will Always savor.

I see you everywhere,
The melodies of what I need to do,
What I should have done...
To cry tears is weakness, And--
My subtle strength.

Now I manage to smile,
After the test drive,
I am ready for the rest of my life...
Do you remember me?

I seem to have a way
of making awkward look smooth
a trick learned throughout my days
methodology of swoon
Im not sure how it works
the whole borderline ****
a fabrication made behind
a sinister crooked smirk
because nice guys finish last
and in order to advance
one learns to discard their heart
to even have a chance

You could tell she
was really someone special,
walked as if she floated on air,
wore her sheened-hair
in abundance,
wrapped it flowing
all around her sweet pretty face.

The bandana & pretty flower,
indeed were an attractant,
but the real grace was
in her penetrating-eyes,
they glowed brightly,
peered right into your soul,
melted your heart
with unspoken kindness.

Her feminine thighs
spoke volumes &
the other guys were listening,
stood speechless,
surrounding her,
mouths open in awe.

Her voice sounded pure nightingale,
not too high-pitched, but rather
an alluring melody & hypnotic.
She wore her **** clothes
to accentuate her finer details,
******, borderline exotic,
all the others paled
in comparison.

She was so fine,
genuine heaven
on two tiny feet,
first-rate all the way
& somebody else's date,
that was the problem.

Someday you'll realize that
we're heading two different ways.
That we've reach our borderline and there it lays,
the future in which we are about to embark on.

Its inevitable and unpredictable,
but the path we're on will someday cross.
And you'll say "you look great" and i'll say "you look good"

'Till that day comes i'll be waiting
and reminiscing about the days
when we lounged around thinking about our future ways.

Well, I had to let it go - I just had to let it go.
I don’t know why I’m writing - I seriously don’t. You can believe, or not - it doesn’t matter in all honesty to me - but I do care. I actually always care. I care about the children and the sun and China and India and Africa and war and peace and food and water and highs and lows and the earth and the air and the grand color of life sewn into the fabric of experience through eyes and minds and legs and lives. How could I not care? To not care is borderline-blasphemy - it’s spitting in the face of God and defecating on the golden throne of responsibility. Having a life is a responsibility - one of massive cosmic proportions.
And so I wait for a call, from a friend, about business concerning sound and growth and direction and sharing - something along those lines...and I wait, and I wait - in the rain, on a cloud, in the street, alone, waiting. It’s okay - not quite as bad as it seems, but everything has a mask if you look at it in the right light (or shadow?). Perhaps, just perhaps...but here I am waiting for a call, and I’m thinking about a girl - about love - and I know that where I am is exactly where I’m supposed to be, but it’s sort of sad when you wish that somebody close to your heart is standing there with you, perhaps not even talking, but simply taking in the silence for what it truly is - beauty beyond life and death and dreams and the rest...beauty beyond idea and form...beauty beyond beauty - just love...love is all, and love is truth.
I wonder sometimes about my privilege in a “first-world world” and how I’m too lazy for my own good...sometimes I wonder what somebody else would do in my place if they were me and I were them...sometimes I wonder if I wonder too much...sometimes I wonder if anyone notices or even cares that I’m lost in the cosmic space of my own mind, swimming through endless wonderings about this and that and everything and nothing all together and between it all...sometimes I wonder what it’s like to stop wondering...

------


Why do I play this fools game?

The rush of the steel to the vain

Does in no way, outweigh the withdrawals, the pain

The quick fix of the crimson- reinserted heals the shame

I feel borderline insane, self-inflicted yet again

As I suffer in dismay, crying out the Lords name

Please, please take away this addiction, this pain


----


-LetterGoddess

My Grandfather,
with his bare hands
built that house on our
fertile land,
were I was born and did reside
and there it stil does stand.
Rite on the borderline
of Greater Manchester
and Merseyside.

Since the day I could walk
and way before I did talk,
I'd help a little
with sickle and pitch fork,
and I'd watch the workers
like a hawk.

One day I'd reached my prime,
my farther said I'd  come of age,
and then at last came the time
for me to get my first ever wage.

"Now its time for you to get paid
(Great maybe now I'll get laid.)
Have a think about investing
(does not sound interesting)
In some great machine
like a tractor,
so your workload does lessen"
(Or maybe I'll live the dream
and get on X factor,
now I can pay for a singing lesson.)
                            
"You tended well to our crop
a bumper harvest you did yield.
Best we've had for years
Good on ya son."
"Great now I can sit on the Kop
always wanted to see Anfield
and go out for beers
around Goodison!"

I got dressed up to the nines,
on a sunny day ,in the finest Lacoste.
Here come the good times
In the big city I got lost.

Thier was some kind of parade
for those with pride.
I was given a serenade
by a chap with his hair dyed.
"Have no fear come in for a beer
you dont have to be queer
all are  welcome here."
Was not sure what that implied
but I said thanks and went inside.

First place I'd been in Liverpool.
Bunch of lads inside playing pool.
I picked up a que
and asked could I play to,
they were not cool            
"Who the hell are you?"
I did not sound Merseyside
so they took me for a fool.

For what it was worth I tried to explain.
"Only had to bunk six stops on train.
I'm local enough so dont complain.
I'm the man that grows your scran,
digging the earth in the pouring rain."

"Stop your bul you wool,
you sound like some kind of manc,
we'll give your ars a spank!"

I  was not sticking around for abusing.
I downed my tonic
and out the door I did walk.
Although I did find it amusing,
and somewhat ironic,
that a scouser could take the ****
out of the way anybody did talk.

Feeling dejected and worried
I'd almost come to harm
I went back to work on my farm
to the Job I'd hurriedly rejected.

But then the nights did draw in
and it did start to get colder
and again I felt my life was boring,
need to live a little before I get older.

Had enough of merseyside
with thier closed off unions.
I'll try my luck on the other side.
I'll go meet the Mancunions.

Yes its going to be great,
yes I'll have a night to remember.
I'm on the lash around Deansgate,
on the twenty fourth of December.

Strait in first place I saw
It looked all I'd hoped for
and more, top draw.

They had an event of some kind
seemed to me it was for charity.
I'm not usually one for morality
but twas night before Christmas
so I did not mind.

A fundraiser for the down and out
refugees that were homeless and brasic.
Some were prancing, call it dancing,
others just hanging out.
The juke box was banging out
a Stone roses classic.

"Pint of smooth."
All stopped to move,
I felt the needle scratch out of that groove,
and no creature was stirring In that public house
not even a mouse...
When I say nothing was stirring
thier was three hundred pair of eyes
that did stare at me  from all sides.
But you know what I'm saying.
I open gob, record scratches off,
stops playing,
and no creature was stirring
in that public house, not even a mouse
and the barman, he looks at me and he says.
"Are you Scouse?"

"No bro
I meen no are kid
and I'm here to spend
doe you know so
dont flip your lid."

"Whats that you said?
What do you meen
what am I doing here?
I'm Lancashire!
Born and bred
I'm out thier in my wellies
watering turnips to keep
you townies fed!"

"I'm not on tour
I'm no pretender."
Was going well for me
until they all saw me
take a selfy
outside the Haçienda.

In these modern times
most try our best
to be excepting of the rest.
Strait, gay, white or brown,
but I say its just as important
to extend that hand of friendship
to those in the next town.

For after all,
if we got together
and gathered our masses
we would surely be the most awesome,
the very best.
We.
The great working classes
of Englands North West!