Is it that you've only got eyes for him?
Your boy is an enigma, save for little mentions
We could, oh, we could, it would'nt be a sin
For us to consummate these emotions
On a rollercoaster to Hell
Not sure what it is that will come of this
But, I'll tell you this, I can tell
Something sinister, this way, hithers

Now be straight with me
Zigzagging lines were never my way
So I'd appreciate
If you could just stay
Long enough
Standing tough
And tell me what it is that's up

Which way do you fold me?
Sometimes, the love is strong,
and it holds me up,
and gets me in and gets me out.
Sometimes, the love is present,
it runs through the room,
it flows through the days.
Sometimes, the love is gone,
it leaves empty rooms
it comes in unfinished sentences.
Why does it have to be like that?
Why can't things be normal?
Not pretending, not faking.
But maybe some changing,
it would be good.
This cursive is writing on the wall,
This fluent is in languages I can't understand.
Sometimes it seems
you need a walk in closet.
To hang your skeletons in.
But once you hang them,
Leave them. Leave them for me,
Leave them for you,
I dont care how you do it,
Just leave the closet closed forever.
Baby Once in a Blue,
You make me sad.
Yet that sad sometimes spells,
Sad is a long word,
And it means things, some of us
Don't know how to explain.
So, lets try one more time,
Another round, for the couple of the year.
Dithers, and high high Hithers,
they may come and go,
For all I know, I'll be where you are.

‘it’s always nighttime in prison’
they tied their feet together;
every vowel lives on
until the morning sun hithers

pages thrown to sea,
the deep blue churns recklessly
their hearts are the coldest stones
they have thrown right at me.

he would carry on his back
a piece of the burning sun
and after the ink runs out
would he escape and run

his brothers will never wait
inscriptions he made will eventually fade
horror rots upon the walls of his brain
but poetry will keep him sane.

So we have remained,
With the constancy of stubborn and vestigial elms,
Through any number of moons and Junes,
Equally as many improbable springtimes,
Madnesses of petunias and potholes,
But with a fidelity relatively unstrained, untested,
Our travails being minor things,
Trivial as opposed to titanic,
Our hithers and yons no more
Than the muted triumph of simply carrying on
And we could ask, one supposes
Have we truly loved, then?
Such questions are best left to poets and philosophers
(Grandiloquent fools with time and inclination
For such lines of inquiry)
And though the panorama of our time together
Will be an unprepossessing thing,
No strings heating up and crescendoing
As the camera pans wide in a sweeping crane shot
Of great craggy valleys, the zenith of white-capped peaks
(The lumpy moraines of our landscape,
Merely bits of sediment moved half-heartedly by the odd glacier,
Providing rather uninspiring visuals)
We suspect, no we know, know in such a way
That it is as unremarkable as blinking an eye
Or making some unconscious sound
Which annoys yet endears in the same moment,
That we would be all, give all,
Unreservedly and unhesitatingly immolating
Any thought or concept of self in service of the other,
And the notion that all of that occurs
Away from the watchful eye of director or camera
Does not diminish it in the least.

The moon winked at me
when I glanced the windy midnight sky.
Its eyelid a lone cloud,
trundling heavy and tired.
Trees' leaves danced all around
with the sound of a hushed little sigh.
Oh sleeping evening,
oh great seeping eye.
Kindly quiet your come hithers
and just leave me to die.
The cold gives way to warmth,
the warmth blankets my mind.
Give up your heart,
for then comes the freedom to fly.

Sights set on the tallest of timbers,
feathered wings outstretched at my sides.
Trying to escape the remembers
though no matter how hard I try,
glimpses of the past still flash
like reflections of moonlight in my eye.
Faster now, I reach for the stars
as I pump air and fly
all the way up
to the top of the sky.
Heart racing, breathless to boot,
I fold up my feathers and find
that I'll never be able to reach it.
Reasons I'll never be able to find.
Soundless, I'll fall to the Earth
and gravity will feel just fine.

Though,
I wanted to skim on the waters,
I wanted to sing of those times
That I watched the sun turn to embers
and the moon wink in the midnight sky.

I dine on wildflowers
Down by the sea
I slurp down sunshine
How it tickles me
Melodic come hithers
Whispered on the breeze
It's times just like this
That invoke Calliope

Your pain is not something you take lightly
Yet you hold it in
You hold it in and put a mask on your face
A mask that cloaks all of your feelings
A mask that doesn't come off so easily even in the places that are oh so dear to you

Your pain isn't always your fault
It can be due to your day, a loved one, an argument
Just something
Your pain is what keeps you safe yet hithers you from breaking free

my shadow of a thought prances with delight
elusive dance
I grasp the shade to tether me to its being
and the mischievous umbral silts through my sieve of fingers
my shadow of a thought breezes between my ears
whispering come hithers
as i clamber, my arms wide
torch wall and shade in the cavern of my mind
and my shadow of a thought coos and urges
its fellows to join the bacchanalia
the cacophonous caverns clamor to crescendo
i'm left blended in thought and shadow
a memory of a memory in my hand
the closing remarks a murmur on my lips