Pachydermal memories, sticky adhesions
Loosening the reigns of thoughtful ride
Outsourced skills seeping the membranes
In an amniotic suspension
The quest lays in retaining
Not to drain, yet keep momentum
As a leak at the bottom of the ocean
The strain refills
Full-filling circulation



The gentleman swims in the crowd
           Of his metropolitan pathways
              Imbibing, desirous affections
             Afflicting self response modes
           I shall surely like to be there
         But the train ceases to brake

Or abide. The subway scatters island thoughts
Motioning exward, refusal to mesh

          Though in mirth we blend
  Against the parent in congress with the goal
        Aligned with their strife
     He watch, the office traffic’s
  Yellow bleeding before all signal
Yet pushes forward pileups
His symptoms pertain; uneasy persisting exquisite

Unskilled romancer of moods...

bruised like a plumb from

false starts--fumbling, falling

into graces...whose?

Some bright-bulbed

peanut gallery staring at you

from the rears of their minds.

Watching you cartoonishly swept

off your feet by cosmic record skips.

The cavities of your features filling

with shadows, as if touched up for

your variations on danse macabre.

Deep and dark emotions always creep out at the worst times
When you're trying to sleep
When you're out to eat
Or when you're trying to be intimate with someone you love so deeply
you just might burst
There is nothing romantic about it
The sudden flood of tears
The shaking hands and the clumsy fingers
Foggy eyes can't aim well
with their words or their intentions
Most times it just seems easier to resign into solitude and give it up
throw in the towel
I'm not fit for the human interaction that I crave with my
heart
my soul
my mind
my very skin buzzes with the thought of someone
Someone just as damaged as I am
Someone just as loved as I'm supposed to feel
Someone just as sad
and unwilling to talk about it
The happy little life tinged with the bittersweet tears of healing and the
sad tug of what has been left behind
Nostalgia is clinging to my heels
though I've kicked her in the head a few times
Her bouncing ******* and swaying hips still follow me to and fro
as if hooked to me by an two ton invisible chain
Seductive as a politicians *******,
She is so intent on getting her way that she forgets that I'm the original, and she's the copy.
The cartoonishly overdrawn ideal of who I once was. The love hungry blue heart that had no true place in the world.

But once you've found your place in the galaxy, no earth dwelling ***** could even try to keep you around.

As we laid in bed
I pulled you closer and guided your arms around my body
for you to hold me like you once did before.
You didn’t resist but I could feel that the warmth between us,
that deep connection where our hearts beat together
had long since left.
In that moment I became desperate for you again.
I went to the bathroom and peed,
there were clothes all over the floor
and a spider tried to spindle its web in my hair
to which I had a fierce panic attack
especially when I saw the spider after frantically trying to dust it out of my hair
and off of me.
I returned to the bed and the other guy had left
so it was just me and you
and I took my shirt off and you laughed at how hard my ******* were and tweaked one of them.
I asked if you had plans for the day and you said no
and I said I wanted to spend time with you
because it was a nice day out
and you agreed
and I said that I wanted to talk
to which once again you seemed open to but less than interested in and I found myself back-peddling as to not frighten you away
but I knew that it was too late
and i could feel you realize that whatever hopes that you had of us being just friends
had turned into something you had to protect yourself from.
I slid over on top of you to get close and to smell you again
and you pushed me off
and I rolled off the side of the bed
onto the floor and laid there, cartoonishly, unable to move,
paralyzed in knowing that I would never be able to get close to you again
and I woke up thinking about how much
I love you.

Romantic Love has always been ironically, over romanticized for me.
It just appeared to be too much
Too irrational
Too cartoonishly blissful
This could be from a life of witnessing too much romantic hurt
Too much of the flip side of what romantic love could do.
The harm.
The loss of trust
All the broken pieces
So I never felt it was something worth seeking
It was cute
It was good for movies
But now I guess I get it
Love songs have a bit of a deeper meaning now
And I get the bliss.

AND STILL THE RAIN FALLS

between you
And me

the wall
of your death

descends
with an audible clang

cutting us off
each from the other

I can still see you
clearly

I throw myself
against this barrier

the glass laughing
as I

slither cartoonishly
down its impossibility

behind it
your past exists

all neatly packaged
contained and counted.

Your future has been
cancelled.

Your present no longer
to be seen.

I throw myself at this
unacceptable thing

enraged as rain
filling up an empty

tin cup in a Parisian
backstreet.

You reach out your hand
to touch me

comfort me

but I am not able to be
comforted

the glass mocks me


and still the rain
falls