I think
you are so beautiful
Heather,
that I could search for clams
on the beach
and only find fish.

I am unhappy with fish,
they are too stupid.

But your open mouth,
and the pearl
of its tongue,
is just too much.

You have a ******* boyfriend,
with a ******* mustache,
and flannel
two sizes
too small.

My heart is big enough.

I could eat you in a gulp.

Your heart could be dinner
for days,
most likely years,
and if I could just taste
your complexion
I
might finally know heaven,
even as I talk about it
too much.

If I go to Hell soon,
I would tread the fiery waters,
fight the three-headed dogs
and a burgeoning Cerberus,
for the touch
of your skin.

Aphrodite is not beautiful,
neither is
Zeus,
you are the goddess
that puts
all else to shame.

I was thinking of our conversation
What was it that you said?
Rather that you asked?
I believe it was-
Why would I do that?
Unable to answer in the moment
I began to question my decisions
But why would I do THAT?
Now I remember
This pretty picture of mine contains painful pressures
You can judge it or I can say;
Yeah, my canvas is ripped but your paint hasn't even dried yet

If it wasn't almost 2016, I would call you on your house phone from my corded phone in my kitchen, we'd chat quickly as to not rack up my phone bill, we would make dinner plans and call it good.

But it is almost 2016 and I'm actually looking at your Facebook and your girlfriends Instagram and I'm laughing / crying over the gag worthy photos she has you featured in.

If it wasn't almost 2016, I wouldn't even know you had a girlfriend and I wouldn't have tried to save the poor girl from your ***** lying ways.

But it is almost 2016, and when Snapchat helped me find out you had a girlfriend while still trying to **** me, I DID try to save the poor girl from your ***** lying ways. You told me not to say anything more, but I had to stop this because I know the feeling of a heartbreak like the one you were about to cause her.

If it wasn't almost 2016, I wouldn't have access to every social media platform that allows me to see every single detail of your life. I wouldn't be driving myself crazy with questions and no answers.

But it is almost 2016, and I get to watch your life unfold with someone else and wonder why I came in last, still no answers.

If it wasn't almost 2016, forget tinder and my quirky bio with the 6 best photos I've ever taken, you'd call me on my corded phone because you actually knew IRL how fun and quirky I am and you'd already have seen me in all my green eyed, beautiful brunette glory.

It is almost 2016 and that means I am just another girl that you aren't looking for something serious with because you're a boy in his early 20s craving freedom. Instead you send me ***** text messages because you're a boy in his early 20s and you met me on Tinder. I am a girl in my early 20s and when you met me on Tinder, you assumed I wanted less than a relationship and a little more than a "hey how are you?" convo.

If it wasn't almost 2016, you wouldn't have detailed all the ways you would make me feel good because would you ever really say those things to my ******* face?

But it is almost 2016, and you didn't say any of those things to my ******* face, you said it beneath the unsolicited picture of you naked in your bathroom mirror and you even added that ******* emoji with the sunglasses, like what you were doing to me was actually super cool.

If it wasn't almost 2016, I wouldn't have known that you were feeding lies to me on a silver platter, I would have gorged myself on your tasty sweet nothings.

But it is almost 2016, and I am starving myself of something worthy and filling because I can't stop reading the tasty sweet nothings you are feeding her.

It is almost 2016 and I wish I could have said ******* to your two timing face instead of via text message.

*******, again and again and again.

It's been a while since I've let my fingers do the talking
Subtle clattering intermittent between self consuming stares into space
Strange and conventional instrumental atmospheres driving fantastical thought
And that self indulgent need to be heard by people without discernible cells

I guess my poems are a hobby of sorts
A collection of ideas, observations and metaphors put forward (barely) structurally
Though I admit the process is more for introverted enjoyment than anything direct
What my tongue would sound blurting these words is a fantasy in itself

I try to stay optimistic in them
Holding on to my passion for the positive, despite the convoluted dysfunction of the day to day
I do it with the same eyes as speaking to others, trying to be someone who's worth being around
Ending with some ******* non-committal message about an approach towards tomorrow

I hope one day I'll get around to reading these poems
Hearing what my inner monologue sounds like in that quiet but intently occupied space
Taking the time off poor sods who'll listen, hoping that the messages mean more than just metaphor
But I'll get over it if life doesn't produce such idealistic circumstances

Thanks for reading what I've written
These white spaces have given me a quiet personal realm for exploring ideas
A place where I can explore my intelligence beyond academia
Indulge my passion for the written word by pouring out gallons of *******
And hopefully make someone, somewhere, smile in the process

It was a very thorough grinding and a overly slow unwinding
The passiveness intensifying to the perfect medium
and beyond this equilibrium it was still churning
this void that is fire extinguished
an emptiness that is passion relinquished
The table was empy, full and cleared of all substances
the cup was overfilling, spilling but content
The tendrils retracted to the cavernous maw from which I succombed
the throat I threw myself down
and clung to the uvula with my toes out of lingering basic reactions
a stimulus that I cared to respond to
My lymph nodes were a sore blackness, penetrating all the wiles of wills
it was the spiders again...
let's talk about evolution for a bit
why do we do things?
survival?
the basic desire to be and propagate oneself
some psychologists would suggest that it's all based on ***.
that's why there are so many ****** and manwhores as well
they trick their bodies into believing they are succesfull.
why do we wish to be succesful?
to attract a mate? yes'm
some of us can move past this sole purpose, but it's still an underlying cause yo


The bossman keeps me a-slaving away..working my time for his pay
The teacherman keeps me a-studying all day, working my mind for future wage
The bassman is me a-slapping a way, mumbling a mating call

So, the plumage is quite bright..genuine too
but not as full and phosphorescent as ******* mcassbutt's store bought version
but, there are no real peahens.  only chickens
so, who'm I trying to impress here? Mr. Director Man, what is my motivation in this scene?
"If you need someone to tell you that for you, then you should probably **** yourself"

this is why I don't give advice much..

I've been told very often, that one should look to themselves for their happiness..
but these people who say this get laid frequently.
not that that is my unit of happiness measurement here.. but try it before you buy it
I'm not going to waste my time.. mating for the sake of having a mate
it's fake. it's vacuous. it's vapid. it's false. it's unreal. it feels wrong and you know it

but...someone to bounce ideas off of. a special someone
put me in my place when im full of **** and it's pouring out my mouth
to recognize that point of light, so many have talked about with me..but ran away from
understanding the cosmic joke..it's not evil or crazy.. it just is and it's wonderful


the lymphatic darkness spreading.
why the lymph nodes?  cuz it's fun to say
lymph lymph lymph
get it? WHEEEE!!
it was once a false light,  some kind of poisonous neon spiraling around my core
but it was torn away..body evacuations of necessity alone
then it was an astral negative, ******* and ******* hard i tell ya whut nyow
it finally found something in all that darkness...the cosmic infinitesimal
the smallest decimal
like a rasinette, with doom insteada chocolate
and dang it was good mood food
i would follow a trail of those fuheva eva
I finished devouring this morsel of anything at all
and found the lighting almost acceptable
readable, but with permanent eye damage after a while

(Verse 1)
Guess I just wasn't it for you,
had me waiting around, set me up to lose,
Don't know what I expected from you,
Just a little understanding,
You're taking your time with putting me down,
And I guess I'm still trying to figure you out,
But I think I'm sorta over it now,
Just gotta steady my rocky landing,

(prechorus)
I keep trying to find my bearings here,
But it's hard when you just disappear,
Honey I don't have the patience,
So don't you keep me waiting,

(Chorus)
So make up your mind,
I keep running out of reasons to give you more time,
Maybe you're already gone,
And you didn't have the ***** to tell me all that was goin on,
All I know is the thing that's tough,
is knowing I won't be good enough,
for your love, so baby
Please be friendly
I'm not looking for love,
but my heart is on empty,

(Verse 2)
You haven't spoken one **** word to me,
And I understand you need time to think,
But I didn't think it'd take you weeks,
Guess it wasn't worth it,
I thought I knew you better than that,
Such a strong connection when we met,
Didn't think you'd wanna leave just yet,
But then again you were a little *******,

(prechorus)
I keep trying to find my bearings here,
but it's hard when you just disappear,
I don't have the patience,
So don't you keep me waiting,

(chorus)
So make up your mind,
I don't wanna keep wondering if you will be mine,
Maybe I want you gone,
And it's good that we didn't work it out,
So now I can move on,
All I know is what's gunna ****,
is thinking I'm not really good enough,
to keep you,
but baby I won't fight fate,
and when you realize I'm gone it'll be too late,
I realize now I don't need your love,
but that doesn't mean you can set me up,
and make me think,
this would actually work,
I'll find someone else who will see my worth,

So open your eyes,
and try to realize, how much you lost this time,
I won't be back here again,
I'm sick of you, and I can't believe,
that we couldn't even be friends,
All I know is what I'm gunna do,
and that's find someone thats ******* better than you,
and I, know now, that somehow,
I'll find my guy,
and he won't think twice.
Make up your mind.

He was none too cute
even in the dark,
the flashing indigo and yellow lights showing the hint of  possible redeeming ****** features.
Me thinks he was high,
me knows I was low,
down,
mind stuck in the muck thinking on a silly boy.
He appeared interested in dancing,
and hell, I love to dance
so we did.
I meekly allowed his hands on my waist
they were unintrucive, innocent even, right?
The sensation of man bones on my jeans was exhilerating and unfamiliar
and I felt so inexperienced but willing to learn;
the door to male touches had been opened and I never wanted to remember life before.
My body responded without the instruction of logic,
only feeling,
and I wanted to make him burn.
He, the nameless figure with ******* dragon chest tattoo and nasally voice;
he will not forget this great dancer.
And I did not forget
the one I tried to escape:
the one who would rather dance alone
than with me.

So this is what it's like to be alone.
It's not so bad, really,
but I can see how it could get old after awhile.

hair dark
slick and swift
the skin between my fingers gliding through

skin dark
caramel dreams
ashkenazi schemes

eyes dark
hot springs
placed there
for me to swim in

wholesome clothes
wholesome glasses
wholesome hand
wholesome body

dense but airy
not ******* but very there

tangible torso
in my bed please

jaw and face
cutting but gentle
in the cup of my hand

warming smile

his lips on mine

We are The No Boys Club
At least until New York
Or Greece
Or Italy
I'm waiting for Colorado
Or Scotland
But we're both too hopeless
To wait

Aerrow and I we're the
"Oh **** I didn't do my APUSH work'
The "I Donts Gots This"
Founders
We're all about "boys are gross"
"Boys have cooties!"
And "rainbows" on shoulders

Nothing is yuckier than all
The people at school
And they are kinda sorta slutty
Or *******
But we don't mind because it's easy
To tease

We are broken and hilarious
With our refined cowcaine
We are philosophical
But that's mostly due to sleep deprivation
We are always exhausted
And procrastinating
We are full of ******* and a lack
Of commitment to ourselves

We don't quite understand
What the difference between loving
And hating school is
But we do understand
That boys aren't worth our time
Yet we still go for the pain
And hold each other up

We are "don't touch that"
"I'm a lick you!'
"Ewie COOTIES"
And "Hey, it's okay: you gots this"

It's Aerrow and I
Against most of the world
**** near five years strong
In an unbreakable friendship

I love rambling cacophonies of abstraction words dripping lust plush and velvety sugared in pipe tobacco like Jack Rubys old joint no symbols to trip the flow odd bits of alliteration skipping stones slowly along the rails in legion divergent trains of thought but I am no McCarthy probing the inner turmoil of the Southern mind maybe riding I will tap out a poem about a poet writing poetry God I hate that **** or maybe something referencing my username the song Bad Company off the album Bad Company by the band Bad Company thrice I have called thy name and thus I do bind thee oh well you are what you eat I suppose to which I would usually respond ***** a bit crass maybe pretty ******* too hah **** it its just wordsandshit WordsandotherTrash

It's a ******* man's world
(loathe as I am to admit
believing such deadly
chicanery - but, as
one might suspect,
the state of the world
is only this
Obvious  because
I am not a man).
The power I wield
just spurts out of
me uncontrolled, just
like its ******* counterpart,
my weakness.
Neither of those *******
garner much empathy -
let alone sympathy -
from the guys in my
small crowd.
Sure, "I need to get out more"
but luckily I know
better.
Other than power and might
and the weakness of fright
in the proverbial dark night
there is also (and always)
love to return to.

I'm going insane. He's got swarms of girls flocking each side to scream in his defense. He's got bros upon bros who will vouch for him, even though they know he's worthless. He's got friends in high and low places and moods that dip in between. He's a teen.
He's pathetic, but not scrawny, he's tough and weak and just pain *******. It's difficult to blame him for things that he's done when he blames himself for things that he hasn't. His life is a trapdoor. Anyone who walks through is stuck in a small space which swallows the soul. My soul.