Your gray matter is divine
I like the way you rhyme
You leave it all behind
because all inhibitions do is eat away your time

I don't want life to wane
to a sad state of disdain
so I keep up this game
and wait for you to flood my mind

I create a new me in every moment
while I let the memories of you unwind
I try to find a way to embrace this life
no matter how unkind
I feel full of emptiness and wasteful ways
but around you I try to put up a face
morph my ever shoulder-conscious body
into something I recognize as a valid use of space



I look through your window
Eager to see if my old skin has shed yet
I watch myself change shape
Like a skinwalker, I give up my coat
and steal someone else's
But I can never call it my own
and I can never feel at home
so I drift in the dark
hoping to warm your heart

I try to make my actions align with my words
so I can make myself real
but I never want to translate the things I feel
and every attempt to voice my beliefs
seems like I'm putting on a set of false teeth
I've got the armor but nothing underneath


Worry of judgement consumes me
My brain is ringing like the rails after impact
remembering the first time more vividly than the present
I'm a depressed undercover pessimist
A charlatan and a fabricator
I'm sober in my insanity
comfortable with the my self-aware self-destruction
Eating the leftover proverbs
To give me food for thought

The same questions fill me to the brim
The water's leaking out
The panic's setting in
My cup of water is too full
and I'm choking on the flow
I don't have a clue what to do with curiosity
I never let this feeling leave my lips
I can't explain what it and what it isn't
so I just move my finger tips


Somehow I can keep a conversation with you
and I enjoy you more than I ought to
I observe what I can
Slip into your shoes and point of view
Read into the pursuit of peace
You ameliorate my imagination
Give me faith in humanity
I feel less animosity
I let the mercury in me liquify
So I can produce my own light
Breath in and relieve my heart
from the pressure of years
spent stumbling in the dark


You are not a voice showing me the way out of the fog
but rather a hand covering my ears
so I no longer have to hear the echo of my thoughts
I spend the time tracing lines on your face
checking to see if anything has changed
the way I feel is constantly being re-arranged
defining it is never worth the juice it takes
but the lies I feed myself
empower me in this situation rather than degrade

I try to live in a new skin
around you and your friends
fit into the outline of who I set out to be
but every clone of me is messy
and I can never tell if I have changed yet
or if I will ever kick the habit
of being utterly hiffy and uneasy
burning with rudeness of my anxious impulsions
justifying inaction because of power displacement
but always trying to prove something

I make friends with those unwilling souls
that I thought would change me for the better
Open me to a world of ideas
and liven the lonely light I've been harboring
but you can't force things
and you can't always shake first impressions
I try to comprehend why I stay friends
with people only for their usefulness
Settling for those who think I'm adequate
Always conscious of what it may look like on the outside
rather than enjoying it for what is it


30 seconds is all it took for you to size me up
you read people so easily
it's easy to pass me off as devoid of heightened thought
but I managed to change the current when I finally spoke
Ranting about trees and sustainability
And my desire for invisibility
I was surprised how quickly you were convinced I was worthy
and like most compliments I can't take
I rejected your eagerness all too readily

I loved all your rants about black jesus and justice
about community and shared happiness
over material wealth and vanity
I'd rather listen and remain invisible
but somehow I still want to reach out
and grab a look of approval
but like you said, we don't listen to learn
we listen to reply
so I tried so hard to be so sly
and convince you I was super fly
sayin do or die
but you were too **** high
and I felt like I had fooled you
with a terrible lie

But with your soft skin against mine
I feel sublime
I'm wasting time getting close to you
When I have so much work to do
Reconstructing this mish-mash of metal
This wood with all the wrong angles
That is inside my fleece
That composes me
I've fenced myself in too long
And this restlessness is insatiable
I may be directionless but I'm able

I doubt my love, so my love is equivocal
I feel capable of loving you and everyone I know
even though I am just beginning to love myself
But love is definite
not something you quibble and question
and even though what I feel is far from real

I still want you to tell me everything
about philosophy and hypocrisy
about the ins and outs of what gives life meaning
about the uprising and government desecration
about what it means to have free will
But I may never tell you how I feel
Because I know your turmoil has nothing to do with me
when all my whirlwind nausea is centered towards you


You are a sapiosexual intellectual
the thirst for knowledge is alive with you
that curiosity grip me too
sets my mind on fire
and I dip into the news
you inspire a passion to find a purpose
and always follow through
but I know I cannot live as you do
the care does nothing but wear me down
because this fraction of attraction
Will leave me with nothing but a sound

I
I have many impulsions and desires
Oft not in line with those surrounding me
'tis in these moments I miss you the most
For you would eagerly follow

II
I saw the trees in bloom
Today, white pure blossoms
I thought of you...

III
I saw you today...
In the orange crocus cups
Peeking through the Earth

IV
Daffodils opening up
In a golden sunset hue
To you, these natural beauties
Turn my thoughts

V**
I almost did not notice
You signed with my surname
It looks so natural

Every touch of your lips to my porcelain skin flushed memories into my blood stream.
I choked back the drunken tears and apologies and replaced them with 'I miss you's' and the minutes I had the privilege of playing with your hair, I was at peace.
I missed your hands and the way you worry about my relentless insomnia.
I missed you squeezing my hand as if though my life was in danger.
Every second spent with you feels like my lungs are collapsing and I've never felt more alive.

God ****** every night I feel like dying but the fact that you exist in the big wasteland of **** is enough to keep my impulsions quiet.
The fact that you breathe and you sweat keeps my heart beating out of my chest and I can't get my vessels to find cessation.
I itch and i crave to be your favorite mess.
I want to kiss you where it hurts until it hurts even more.
I want to heal every wound that cuts deeper than your pores make you believe that your worth is so much ******* more than anyone who's led you to believe that it wasn't before.
I am the hollow tree trunk coffin where creatures go to die and you are mine.

Until I realized you were rotting.
You became cold and unaware that your impulsions could get the better half of you. Biting your tongue became a habit you couldn't break And I know I fed your addiction.
I was sick and you were quiet.
Your branches just couldn't withstand to hold the weight of my heavy heart and I dropped.
You cut off my leaves and pulled out my trust.
And it just wasn't enough.
We withered away.
They dug up your roots and I watched you decay.
And it was my fault, it had always been.
I am your rotten apple, your Pandora's box.
You cut me open and unleashed the chaos. And I'm sorry.
You didn't deserve that. No one does.
I'm a hollow body and I'm sorry my soul tried to swarm on yours and erupted.
I'm sorry about the buzzing.
I'm sorry I couldn't hold you up on my branches.
I'm sorry you didn't love me as much as you love her and as much as I love you.
I'm sorry I...

These words fumble out of my mouth
like building blocks of a clumsy child.
They are innocent, unaware;
puerile, if I dare.
But frivolous as they seem,
they have been uprooted from the
dusty corners of my heart.
They are defenseless and exposed.
I cup my hands in a poor attempt to
collect these impulsions that stream
from my lips.
Too late, they delved themselves into you
like daggers from my hands;
and for that, I am sorry.

I aim with good intentions, these weapons at the tip of my tongue.

a hopeless mind but not  spirit, in search of darkness, by last mindful impulsions, to find the grail of youth and virility.

I write what I can't say
I weep for these lost emotions
These voiceless, unclaimed soldiers that go to battle every day
Only to lose their lives spilling out onto my cheeks
So many casualties have been laid to rest upon my pillowcase
What should bring my head solace is now a graveyard for abandoned feelings
I sit up and work over and over in my mind
Is there any logicto it all?
For that to truly exist emotion would need to cease
I struggle with the war that's continuing inside me as we speak
Defined by impulsions, confined