I know that the clo-
ser I get to you, the hard-
er I fall apart.

she was like the B L A R E of
an a(la)/r..m *******at 5a,,m;
an unpleasant neces-sity.

closure between lines


that skated away alleys

and entitled themselves to the hours

between hours


where you wouldn’t remove your glasses,

where you’d ywoiudlnts rats your summers of alienware scene tamererisalsis

\

you  are a stunner i tis alientawre outcast amlswae dpravity,

did yu enter our ie=tery, d


or di d the singer

mounts itswhay into the justifiedmononloties



android their clo=brads mont a tied wings heki.d onto the beorwswedd mollies


a ******* starts
?:?

dido he come pit to laying?


wants hosts brain all ofsserat weazxxx wand ddidi this de=yeavrown s diddi fro flwaytouf mi of your micheiuver
> s



n your ca’t be sure


and you won’t ever ben…  for yu are mintsaind on yours tgrarrotoor just like me
\

like a mischief ended bandied its will confront ejhie dietrsie ,, fr0lor oooo pppr rpr r a frag,et DOEENT ANDOEODTY PPA TJAT JAS CRASTEDEEEEEDPP EIPIR SIRRRRR DOTEOS AON A TRECJANT AFWAREFRAREY ODYPYYYYPSYYYYYYYYYYYYPP[O[K[U[U[U[[U[U[U[U[[[[UY;Y[[[Y[YYUY;[[Y[­Y[[U[[[[UY[[Y[Y[Y[Y[Y[Y[Y[Y[[UU[[[TRI464Y7 3RKNAFEKDHYESEYYY  ALENTENTT EYIR TRANETE MOMNGRAOHP

She was everything I ever wanted.
Her euphoria as contagious as the common flu
Her warm and cozy feeling like a hug you give to your stuffed teddy bear
Her laughter as colorful as a Monet painting
Her tender hands just like a fawn
She was everything my brain desired to have

Immediately I wanted her all the time
Every Second
Every Minute
Every Hour
Every time the hand on the clock moves
She was all I ever desir—

Wait…
I forgot something
Let me start over.

I have ADHD
… at least I think I do
Look for me in the classroom staring off the window
Because I was either suddenly interested in the conversation between two passers-by about their finals
Or perhaps a baby bird flew by the window sill
Look for me at my own home frantically flipping off
Because for the one hundred and twenty-seventh time, I’ve lost my own phone
Sit beside me? Sure! Why not?
IMeanIt’sNotLikeI’mCompletelyQuietButI’mReallyAFunPersonToBe­WithBecauseIHaveSoMuchStori—
Sorry about that…
But… give me a task and I’ll be eager to do it
But in a count of three, I’ll magically fall asleep within the couch because…

What did you told me again?

Anyways...
Do you still remember that day?
The one at our science laboratory?
I met you.
You still had braces on
I saw it peeking when you smiled at me as I told a joke to you
You still had long straight hair back then
You were the typical school nerd
But I never told you that because I didn’t want that smiling face to fade

And to think… your face was one of the things I focused on
Our first meeting was something I somehow remembered
And to think you made me go silent for a while
Every day, I was a busy ocean
I would often have big and small waves dancing around my head
But the moment I saw your face
I was the quietest stream…

You were everything I ever wanted
You had everything I have always daydreamed about
You became the reason I give a great amount of eye contact when striking a conversation
You became the reason I spoke less words than I did back then
You made me not forget about the assignments we had because we’d do it together.
You made me not get distracted by the tick of the clo—

The clock.
The ticking clock.
The clock that dictates the time.
Time.
Time we have left together like this.
Suddenly, everything was about us for me.
I didn’t know how I can keep you to myself

I wrote you letters
I sang songs that reminded me of you
I followed you wherever you went
I tried to make up for the lost time we’ll have

And I’m sorry.
I got everything in my head.
Stupid impulses.

I wanted to change for you.
To stop my disorder for you
I stopped listening to my classes just thinking of you
I forgot about the pieces of paperwork
I get distracted by the clock.

And suddenly I went back to staring at clouds out the window again
Just like you.
You went away with them.

Our times spent.
The laughter we shared.
And the three words I wanted to tell you.

What were those again?
Sorry, I could be forgetful sometimes too.

Hello, it's you.
Standing with your long, dark dress
Twirling around slowly, as if flaunting
Urging me to come closer
The graceful circling movement
Slowly hypnotizing me
Am I awake?
Or,
More importantly,
How did I end up here?

You walk closer, each step echoing in the dark abyss below
Walking on a deteriorating wooden floor
With each step creaking
Ready to break
Ready to fall
Ready to take me with you
Stepping closer
Stepping
Closer
Clo--

I wake up, surrounded by four white corners.
The only sound I hear is my exasperated breathing
Along with the constant beeping beside me

Not today, friend. Not today.

what strange secret shattered and charged

a mighty foe with the wings on a blast

but bituminous the glow and from hell

dangerous to think things ringing in your ears

slip into a still watch it slip through

your fingers like sand through a sieve.



under-swept and as said so differencing from distance softer than you could sea

the skies

                watching the clo(u)ds collide.

couldn't pull back an escapist so fled the paint into a sick barrel of venom.



                               dis

                                app

                       ­            ear



listen to the end

quiet and seek through thunder

clouding your minds scrambled thick and ****** slick.



                this is not about them the things are as he said.

i will attest to this much...
sometimes i sit this canvas and pretend to wonder:
they are not phonetic wars...
we are all somehow literate...
the priesthood relaxed rules for
"dyslexia": we can be noted as having
education in sound encoding...
pretty ******* late if
you ask me...
bad internet connection: primo...
and there i was thinking that
being honest could be equated to water...
how it might flow...
instead... i'm served up with a
crab-bucket of connectivity "issues"...
no... just plain bunny dandy:
you're not up for hopping this day....

i'll have to melt some copper ore
ask two Glaswegians to fight over
a penny to finally invent something
akin to copper wire...
too many interruptions...
it's almost as if all the things
that fly... are supposed to follow Icarus suite...
but no...

a little autobiographical nibble 'ere...
a little over "der"...
i see an apostrophe like i might
pretend to not see a letter
that has to become a surd...
again... i sit before this canvas...
which isn't much of a canvas...

i will take forever to make time
a concise redemption dimension
while attesting to the mere presence
of clouds...
hardly "rolling"...
but clouds are best for:
lest swans and castles...
come the night...
and more... time-keepers of what's
best to engage with THought
without a moral... ought...

all these technicalities...
i need a canvas...
shapes & colours that they ought to be...
instead...
i have these skeletons...
before the altar of God i'm climbing
this impossibility of how words
are wasted...
wasted on: bucra

a litany of best kept: to themselves...
even though i'm willing to contest
that orange, as a colour...
well... it's half as bad given a priori...
organic status...
orange is bad...
           but not when it's an orange... fruit...
or tinsel town or a trek 5 marlin bicycle...
orange is bad when
it's highten-tenet-tightened...
      as a detail... colour is detail:
otherwise to compose shapes...
here i am... bug-frightened hollow in sound...
looking at skeletons...
skeleton lettering... sounds that might
make it into the encycloepedia...
make it into an...

           because that's the correct "spelling"
of the word...
rigid: BULFAR...
    i just invented a word and it's a noun...
noun: posit place, state, origin, temperament,
and time... not a verb...

i write but i want colour...
paradox... i should have been a painter
detailing: not oxymoron,
not philosophy not true or, truant...
excesses in punctuation...
capture sounds... raise them toward
a status of letters...
have to have that
bored-up... pluck-my-eyes out
attitude toward deity...

   but when the sentencing resounds
via: god = word...
i conjure up the exhausting
use of words in all that...
forest that could have remained but
otherwise became...
pile on pile on...
a congested pike of amnesia-work
of... that still elusive spelling of...
fwench... table...
alias... bew-row...

phonetically that's how it looks...
ugly... beau-rho...
bew-row...
      biu-ro-kra-si...

that i write i have to cringe before
god while all other phonetic encodings
are wasted because
there's some dynamic of "authority"
involved because...
a handshake and a word-from-mouth
apiece is not enough to settle score
that i don't need to belittle man
that man belittles himself... galore...
is...

   a revision of punctuation at best...
punctuation being considered an
inter-verbum dynamic and since
in english there's no apparent
inter-verbum dynamic or the use
of diacritical markers...
the whole canvas the point of...
   let's pretend it's almost chess-esque...
this... chicken-scratching
scribblin' ol' me...

encyclopedia... that's apparently correct...
but it's underlined...
so there's a missing Siamese grapheme
waiting to be discovered...
rules... again: rules...
maybe... some greek?

i write China less as caron chasing doubles...
but more like the greek Xa Xa Xa laughter...
which became odd when reading sort of
Spanish of ja-ja-ja-ja...
     bothersome this... H this "e"...
this h... this "M"... **** it the letters
are toying with Copernicus...
no... they're not... but i'm also not equipped
with a compass... either...
who said compas and not compass
who said... the former looks ugly
the latter looks pretty?
and who objected to this language
being so "raw" phonetically?

en-sigh-clo-***-d-ya...
    d-ia...
       jumbling vowels together like it's
a spectacle of a tornado but
there's not ******* wind or
flush in the toilet...
great urn of mammon! speak!
hollow out... let's pretend otherwordly
dictates of supposing agony...

it's not like the english languge could ever
be undermined...
low risk status...
how they speak Fwench
BUT how they rrrrite it... emphasis on a
trill: rather than a Hark... X...
is another boulder of sort, "problem"...

but most certainly this is not painting...
if i were painting i wouldn't be
x-raying... these words these bones...
i'd have fully gravitating forms
and i'd have colours...
i'd be detailing clouds as not
swans or Rembrandt castles
and all "things" psychiatry prone...
i wouldn't be drinking red wine
wanting more: sugar...
more... water!

i relaxed today being inspected
by a female barber...
god... impromptu: i wanted to **** her...
she cut my hair like i might have
had a *******...
bartablondine: blonde moustache...
sodden tricklet...
these details of hair left most exposed...
from ***** to the chin:
yes... the mythological status
of chin and jaw-lineage...
hardly Finnish...

        but the hands on the head
felt most relaxing...
i pretended to doze off...
i only might wished for a whipping
of a non-existent *******
in a furry of pouching... cushion esque
lips...
then again: it might have taken me
a year or so, +, in having finished
reading a Pickwick Papers'... monthly..
entry... which it was...
serial praise...

ava lauren ava lauren....
****-tiptoe a sacred nugget of ****...
less concern in Cyrilic than in
any other... phonetically encoded a...
as in ah-sigh...
variant... denoting more vis-a-vis
aLPHA...
        prime suspect... supposedly...
no...

again.... what alleviates me from
not, to, stressing the sound
encoded in a letter
red is red...
blue isn't exactly black..
BL
BL
                 -ue
                 -ack...

hardly denoting it playing a...
******* fiddle... a violin...
when i am making excuses for a take
on volume while stroking my beard
and not a ferret...
chance me! you catch me a squirrel...
i'll denote you
both Robin and the ******* of Nottingham!

a paradise for opened oysters....
at least... gulped... down...
sobering...
slobbering tow: two...
              i slither i slobber...
this agitating moon...
this agitating closure... sun... exposed...
this, "somehow"...
all EU funding went into
a motto: all autobahns feed the traffic
toward... WARSAW...

but i'm hardly living... that sort of...
a... "sein und zeit"...
i'm not living this variation
of a congested marathon:
i have hours, there's a day...
walking a sum-up 'un of it
is not to my ******' liking...
i'll be adamant when licking
a Romanian **** or a ******* strawberry...
because ****** are ****** last
and **** first...

i miss ******* like i miss:
not being made tough:
experienced in a demand for flimsy filming it...
a mirror is / was an undermining
project... granules...
soothsayers... whip-em-silent...nibbling...

my beard 'airs are not like my
*****...
trim my 'ucking gravity of the brows:
assumed...
before...
left alone... this tired...
this creasing: too much...

  this knee at the altar of a beggar
come: nuance England via
an adhan...
not, e-nuff... / enough...
  call it hue of 'ringe
how can GHETTO:
                 how can... scrap of meats...
     linger like so...

in these letters... borrow some...
like... **** no...
no russian no prussian no austro-hungarian
leaves me gravitating to timid...
bottle of wine, solid...
i'll be leaving having
attained status of a St. Petersburg
grade 0 tourist...

i abhor writing...
each time i excavate this canvas
i'm tying myself to a deity outside of
a polytheism...
how does... multi-purposive...
functioning... plethora...
extension... jargon... loot...

    my cracking of egg shells...
my little Xiny...
chase...
             the plurality word
form for a people...
Xiny - ce-ha-iny...
    like Niem-cy...
             not exactly germs...
more like brick... mortar...
a bottle of wine...

a bottle of bricks...
i expect no wine...
i somehow envision a chance
for a trickle...
i want a teddy... a Theodore...
i want a: HWAM...
what's that?
phonetically it's... Barking &
Dagenham...
colourfully...
fit for a flurry...
it's a... pigeon *******
on a top-hat... *******...
spectacular...me... you are
assigned to heave...
a Forrest Gump from
a Forrest Gate in between
the A406 and... what's that
"blunder" in the middle...
between Ilford and St. Paul's and...
the praising of hybrid... walling...

i heard a piano... crash & fall...
i heard the skimming off details...
i heard the tired affair of circumcision
like i might hear
the grass being mowed
of the hair hair being trimmed...
i heard the donning of the kippah...
i heard so much i hardly forgot
tuning to deaf... dear me...
i heard a piano fall...
i heard a chandelier succumb to...
i was willing to borrow a barrel...
i forgot to can the laughs...
honest to god...
everyone is supposed to forget
to can the laughs...

otherwise we're dealing with androids...
aren't... we?