You liquify me.
I want to be that cool drip
Tracing down,
Down your neck
Pooling into your coves.
I want to be that cool
that ravages your insides,
Making you quiver.
I want to be that cool drip
Heating up from your shivers.
I want to be that cool
That makes your heart drop
From a single gasp-
I want you to feel me when I'm gone.

i. reward ten thousand dollars
it scares me to think you will drive me home one day, one night, one night when i am very drunk and the stars do not glisten because there are no stars left! i am sure of the reason:
upon being conceived you swallowed them all whole. this is not purposefully clandestine so much as misunderstood knowledge:
in our lifetime these celestial objects will be mistaken, much like a well-intentioned teratoma, for
cancer
countless times you will be plucked, yet unripe, from the fire that will as soon liquify your flesh and cleanse your soul

ii. wanted, dead or alive
psychosis is not a watershed.
it is an amalgamation of the bugs who have crawled up your legs and gorged themselves on your fruity blood before hibernating
it is a room of walls plastered with ******* of nauseating pale cadavers, of empty homes, of longing hands, of breast buds and tied legs and virginal lips and bare ***** and stained sheets
it was in you forever and there is nothing to blame but an imbalance, for
you are the duality of...girlhood.
you are soiled ******* and unkempt hair, abused plush dolls and sticky hands, infected wounds and sunburn sting, stale cereal and coloring pages
you are satin veils and vain slumber, tired tears and starving entrails, hesitant touch and static vhs, shrill laughter and breathy song
you are itchy bug bites. you are snow in my eyelashes.
you are a lissome angel pregnant, god bless you, with a fetal (fatal?) evil; perhaps my fear begins here, or perhaps it greets me when your aura bites my eyelids...alack!
it must be so. **** orange light suffuses my thin veins. the sun exudes apprehension and abruptly the car is totaled and
this is why you cannot drive me home. even when i have become quite inebriated:
it is not natural for the air to be so warm; only ere our galactic body closes her eyes.
surely you will **** me. you are no creature of the night. run me over; crush me between your toes; let my nectar grow trees in the cracks of this, our, every godforsaken town.

iii. have you seen me?
her neotenous thighs stick, like sap, to the concrete floor, water seeps beneath the cinderblock. dust collects between her fingers in which she clutches, with the brutality of youth, a softened - if garishly colored - carton of apple juice. four-o'clock sun pierces the thick glass window (if one will call it such) and she feels listless; rather than squint she pores over the illumination with intent that, in her unsuspecting naivete, she is not yet aware she holds. before she ***** in enough light to blind her she hears a voice that feels familiar:
come upstairs
soon enough it will be ruefully forgotten
soon enough she will realize she was bagged and thrown in the trunk
too late she will wish to exact her revenge

blurred through the mumbling atomic cafe
i thought i heard you say
i am become deaf
destroyer of words
but you were breath
become butterfly effect
spiraling within the stereophonic white-noise drone
of a static radio station
tuned to the music of the silent colossal rotation
of the planets, stars, sun and moon
behind the drawn curtain of a vanished polaroid

still these beating hearts to a murmur
slow these breathing lungs to a whisper
and attach the cello strings of your bloodstream
to that glittering confetti cloud of satellites
strobing, circling the sphere of our atmosphere
strung out on geo-synchronicity
the turning tunnel of the tides
the aeon-spanning volcanic swirl of magma
subsonically writhing
beneath the magnetic pull of the ocean floor
and just...listen...

can you hear the flaming  crackle
of the fire burning in our bellies?
if we slit our stomachs open
the flames that spill from our hari-kiri'd entrails
will fill the darkness in the corner of our closet
and burn it to ashes

in a dream
i saw us laughing together many years from now

when the blast-furnace of our blood, sweat, tears and acid dreams gapes wide
we will laugh in it's face
at the absurdities
of death and taxes

and as the years push through
we will laugh
as we go blind in our old age
growing brighter than the glow
from within the dollhouse home we assembled
from sticks n stones

and we will grow gray together
and fill the soles in our shoes
the holes in our soles
with the dirt, rust, ash, concrete and angel dust
of these city streets

and we will laugh like pyromaniacs
as we **** on burial plots
soil our own graves
and erase our fingerprint smudges
from the blueprints
of our jailbreak escape plan

flames will erupt from the holes in our heads
consume us
spread in a tectonic shock-wave
and lick the pale toes of angels and dreaming junkies
hovering on ghost clouds of ***** soot
just above the foot of our bed

the outlines of our bodies will liquify, disintegrate
and reform as the jagged teeth of a cityscape skyline
crowned crookedly upon the head of a crippled pigeon
ascending in a stuttering climb
towards a heaven
that does not exist
for us

shaking ash and bone-dust from twisted feather
our flames will spread further
devour prehistoric forests
**** roots and tree trunks to bare bone
and march in a coronation parade
upon the city gates
behind a revolutionary brigade
of angry red army ants

finally, those flames
will surround a broken boombox
lost behind a landfill-mound
of moth-chewed cardboard moving boxes
containing the soft stains of dream and memory
tagged, painted, and graffitied
in white out, in sharpie
duct tape peeling from perforated speakers
the flashlight-sized battery compartment
an empty coffin

i didn't cry the day you died. i'm sorry. the reality that you had passed away at barely twenty-five didn't really hit me, even at your eulogy and that still haunts me. they say that denial is the first stage of addiction but I assumed that you knew that death was a possible side-effect of your prescription. about two weeks after your wake, it hit me like a train. i was riding the n judah to the end of the line at ocean beach when I passed a throw-up piece that you had painted a few years before in the train tunnel near haight and cole. it was a big letter "a" in lowercase with an exclamation point next to it. i once asked you what it meant. you shrugged and said, "i just like the shape of it," and something clicked. it was then that i realized (that)

the flames of our light, love and laughter
move faster than the speed of life
and those flames pass us by in the blink of an eye
if we're not quick enough to catch 'em
and return the letters like stars
we borrowed, typed, stole, scribbled and scrawled across the pages of the sky
back to the sprawling library of the night
where they belong    
where we belong

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

The subway air feels like pudding. It's thick, and as clingy as water. When you take a shower at night - and you should always take a shower at night, unless you want to sleep with the city - you can feel the air instantly liquify and drain away.

The memories leave marks on your skin, if you let them. The bruises on your sides from bumping unique people;  the cut on your head from hitting a pole; the ache in your heels from walking too far. You're experiences hang on your skin, and shine through your eyes.

New York is unique because of her variety. She's strong because of her diversity. She grows because of her adaptability. New York is a jungle of human-animals trying to survive.

The smell of opportunity is stronger than the potent *** of other smells: the *****, rodent-infested tracks, frequent homeless sleeping quarters, grungy, old costumes on Times Square.

She is life; she is alive.

If you're alone or together you are always a part - a piece that makes it what it is. Without you the city survives. She has, and will. But without you, she's not what she is with you. Even if she tried.

People flow trough her streets as uniquely as blood runs through your veins. The heart orchestrates the motion, while the blood does the dance. she lives and breaths through each person's lungs. Each one arrives for a particular reason - even if for no reason at all. Our arrival helps her breath.

The anticipation before arriving in New York - not the Big Apple, no one calls it that - is enough to deprive a voyager of sleep on incoming flights. Even at 11:45 p.m. The jungle of buildings, built in perfect chaos testifies someone saw the bigger picture. A person may only see a foot, or a year in front of their face. New York saw far ahead, and high above.

Everyone is welcome. Some never leave. Permanently or temporarily, New York will take you in as long as you stay. She may hold on a little too long.

Decapitate, disembowel, tear and mutilate!
Schizophrenic!Psychedelic twisted mind!
Expedite, liberate, Alienate then recreate
Masonic!Prolific piece of mind!

Sabotage, besiege, flank to infiltrate!
Victorious!Strategic tyrannic mind!
Crucify, liquify, impale bleed them dry!
Torturous!Barbaric, sadistic mind!

Derange, insane, crazy and mental!
Hallucinating!Polysyllabic demented mind!
Disturbed, diabolic, vile and fatal!
Parasitic!Infected infested mind!

the marrow in my bones has begun to liquify
hot molten lava bubbling like
a thick *** of boiling chocolate on the stove
the stars are expiring
rotten milk leaking from the clouds
and accumulating in-between wrinkles
that paint your face like picasso
But when I peer into the darkness
all i can make out is you ripping off
your fingernails
exhaust pipes jammed down your throat

i have to shower four times a day
letting the soap drip into my eyes
to distract myself from your face
scrubbing my skin raw and red
rug burns up and down my arms
carve the bruises out of my legs
from the stains you shamelessly left

13 birthday candles left lit,
melting onto the frosting
wax dried and cracked over your lips
asphyxiated, blue, frayed ropes
tied around the wings of the vultures
who desperately try to peck away
at my rotting flesh
but I have yet to die
So can't you see how it is slightly ironic
Cement plastered bodies all dressed up
for a black tie affair
cigars in their pockets
and money crammed up their *** cracks

1:44 am and I cough up all those 'little white lies'
you pre chewed
and force fed me
glazed eyes
and the phosphorescent glow
from the street lamps below
is the only ******* hope I have left
for humanity

I was born in the summer and love watching the clouds move with the night time breeze
I am the youngest of four girls and when I was 13 my older sister left my eyebrows over tweezed
It was the night of my 8th grade dance and when I looked in the mirror she saw me freeze
13 years later and I laugh about how I was afraid I’d get teased

My favorite colors have always been red and green but over the years the shades of each color have risen or fallen in coolness and warmth
I have always tried to guess which direction I’m standing in with my internal compass, I always bet I’m facing north
I am learning to not run from my feelings of unrest but instead rush forth

I love when it’s snowed all day and the clouds finally pass and the moon illuminates the fields around me as I'm driven around fast
I'm in love with the idea of moving forward yet somedays I can feel the shattered somethings haunting me from my past

I love Marilyn Monroe
I love Lana Del Rey and Tina Snow
these women who have come before me, have similar scars to me that they aren't afraid to show
I love the feeling of being known
I love feeling as if I'm finally taking my rightful throne
I love this room my mind created everything hand etched and carved of marble stone

The curls in my hair sometimes come out to say hello
I've always wanted to learn how to make choux pastry dough
I love walking, anywhere and everywhere, it reminds me to take things slow

I like pickled radish
and the water of the bay that is brackish
I love when someone says "you're going to love it, try this"

I regret anytime I allowed someone to challenge the beauty and fire I hold in my eyes
and how I wonder why in the first place I even allowed them to try
I allowed them to convince me the strands of my hair didn't shine with such beauty it made the moon cry
I allowed them to drown out my colors with cheap black box dye
and tell me "I've never seen that before" as they point at my full and curvaceous thigh

I buried myself in the deepest dirt and hibernated
while everyone else above celebrated
how being away from me means they successfully evacuated
Their plan was beautifully and tragically orchestrated

I slept and I slept
through every season and even after all the leaves had been swept
I tried to hold onto anything that made me forget why everyone left
Then one day the sun made it's way down and through all the cracks and crevices, it crept
it crept til it woke me up from this comatose dormancy
"how long have I slept?'
the sun said "long enough"
and I wept

but as I wept the sun lifts my head and looks into my eyes
"you are whole and alive, These eyes have yet to see the wonders where my light shines, will you look up at the sky?" and as I look I see clouds the color of the painting above the floor in Versailles, I see every time I felt alive, I see every time I showed mercy and how many low spirits I was able to raise and revive. I see every time my presence has lovingly and unknowingly given someone the strength to survive.

"In time you will see how your depth and beauty goes farther than the bottom of the sea, you will hear my hello from every leaf and every tree and when the ground tickles your feet, be still and know I am with you and will never leave. You are who you are and I couldn't be more pleased, you are the same girl who at nine fell of her bike and scraped her knee, you are the same girl who at thirteen got her eyebrows over tweezed, I promise your garden will grow once you plant your seeds."

For a moment I couldn't breathe
I was in awe of the way the sun could see me
and how even though he sees everything from all sides he still felt this way, how could this be?

"Because you have fiery embers that glow within you, your flavor is more complex than the finest coffee maker could ever brew. Your presence is favorable, please stop allowing your point of view to get skewed."

I stare at my hands and remember how they looked when I was little and how I dreamt of a life where I'd smile so much you'd see my dimple, one where every day I'd be drenched in crystals, and maybe at this point I would have finally learned how to whistle... I haven't mastered the art of it yet, for me it's not that simple. But little me would be happy to know that now when she sings she sounds hymnal.

Little me would love to know that a beautiful cobalt blue journal bought by a friend would begin the journey of a love affair between me, some paper, and a pen.
Little me would stare at the thousands of words I've written about the deep feelings brought on by men
wounds from my father and boys I loved back then
she would walk up to me and she'd be so short I'd be able to rest my hands on her head
she'd squeeze me tight and sigh before saying "I love that we never leave anything unsaid."

And she's right
I have poured my heart out in the depths of the night
to the people with who I wanted to give a final goodbye
I know the rule of ignoring my heart is one I will always defy
This declaration of claiming my life back is one I will amplify

I have spoken my truth terrified even after drinking up all the courage I could liquify  
and albeit terrified I know I'm one of the lucky few who will stand up and speak first of how things are unjustified

I will stand and put my finger in the face of any angry man who tries belittling a woman and tearing her down as much as he can
I will fly over to shield her with my 7 foot wingspan
and put a stop to all of this before it even began

I will dance in the aisle at the grocery store and not care because they are playing a song I adore
I will sing with the fervor of a thousand voices and belt it from my very core
I will drench everything in love for when it rains it pours

Hi, my name is everything I have been and ever will be
my name is the first flight of every butterfly and every bee
my name is the feeling of when the person you love gets down on one knee
my name is the way a new born baby breathes

my name is the way flowers bloom
my name is the way you stand back and smile after you've just painted your very first room
my name is the way you feel when the fireworks on fourth of July go boom
my name is the way you felt when you were a kid wearing your favorite Halloween costume

my name is the way you feel when you've styled your hair just right
my name is the way you feel when it's the first time they ask you to spend the night
my name is the way you feel when your best friend hugs you tight

my name is the way you feel when you're happy and you've had just enough to drink
my name is the way you feel when the sky is that perfect shade of orange and pink
my name is the way you feel when you finally know what to say after having some time to think

my name is my own
and when I get older I'm going to buy a horse that's a blue roan
and ride her for miles
for I used to be out on that lonely road
and my soul will forever want to roam
and as I look at her mane to comb
it's full of beautifully ornate braids with flowers sewn
I look at her and see myself and I say
"You're finally home."

With all the innocence of old friends, wrapped in silent hoping, knowing but afraid to believe.  The heart beats a bit faster as the words become free. No longer chained in what came before. Transformed by insight, a vision sent to each of us alone.  And in those words were hidden truths that underlay what came before.  A true affection melts in heat into a fire that burns free.  

With a breath was lit
What had always smoldered there
Ablaze on a wire

Tentative in this new-found freedom. We touch delicately, lingering on the words that electrify the flesh and liquify defenses.  Steam wafting in the air as emotion meets desire.  Intoxicated by the ethereal beauty of it all. Left reeling, hearts traded, souls tangled and the lascivious nature of what was once hidden ravages the senses.

There are so many worms
crawling through this corpse
Maggots, slugs and snails
leave slime trails
through the entrails
They dig tunnels
through the flesh
of a once beautiful body
What was is now death
Five severed limbs
sewn on in the wrong places
around a core
a heart
lungs and spine
that have begun
to crack and liquify
Will we recognize ourselves
when this decay claims our eyes?

I’m chilling and doing homework tonight. Leaning into it.

Last night one of our suitemates (Julia) turned 21 - she’s barable. Not that we get carded anywhere - I’ve never had trouble getting into clubs or ordering drinks - I mean never have I ever.

She had her birthday party at a place called Mory’s, in New Haven, which is very Yale themed. We ate dinner in the “captain’s room,” where every picture on the wall is a Yale team captain of some sort. They even have a whiffenpoof plaque. It’s so Yale-core it’s funny.

Have you ever heard of a drink called a “Singapore Sling?” Me neither, until last night. Then, somehow, there were undrinkable oceans of it. I had six of them, sitting at a bar and I felt nothing. Then I stood up and my bones seemed to liquify. Leong and Anna reeled me in.

I was hangin this morning though, I mean rocky-socks drunkover. My senses seemed sharper, my optical nerves dialed up all the way. The air seemed bright and I swear I could’ve heard the sun burning if people would’ve just stopped all that annoying breathing.

I had a biochemistry quiz at 9am and I can’t wait to see how I did. Later, at breakfast (I had a piece of toast), Peter felt free to offer his sensible, 26-year-old, bropinion. I said, “You’re so wise,” as I steel-eyed him, “I-guess-you-never.”

By the afternoon I was back on my toes. Almost every night my roommates and I sit around a low table in the common room of our suite, crossed legged, on cushions and do our homework. It’s less claustrophobic than sitting in our rooms alone and we usually have some music on, lowkey, in the background.
We’d just heard “Love Story,” by Taylor Swift.

“I like songs that make love sound easy.” I stated.
“Oh, because it IS easy,” Anna says sarcastically, “grab yourself a physicist and make a TikTok song.”

“Hey! I’ve got a beef with TikTok artists, I said. “At first, they release these stripped down, intimate, acoustic songs that feel personal, and then, if a song hits, they put out a new version that’s totally overproduced.”
“Right.” Leong agreed.  
“Oh, yeah,” Sophie said, putting her hair back out of her face with a comb, “and some artists' voices are suited to simple accompaniment and the newer versions just don’t hit as hard.”

“I think Phoebe Bridgers is an example of production done right.” Anna said. “Her material continues to sound intimate and stripped down even though it’s no longer just her and a guitar,”

“On Tiktok,” Lisa adds, “when a new song works, I feel a connection, like it could be me recording a song with my guitar - so, I support them.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” I updogged, “there’s a place for overproduction but sometimes the instruments don’t even sound real, like when they go all out electronic - then they lose me.”

“The big-music might drown-out the artistry we liked,” Anna opined, “but maybe that’s how they heard it, as songwriters, in their imagination, but they couldn’t afford it - the new version rectifies it.”

listening to the
lumbering steps through the home
of someone we both adore-
a philosophical newborn

hiding under the stairs
in a nest we built from
feather filled pillows and
cotton comforters

I felt the quintessential need
to mold our bodies into one
I wanted our bones to liquify
and our flesh and brains jumble

I wanted so badly to just
kiss you

No one found us
So I became a part of you
We are as one

my insides are like lava around you
when you leave
they solidify
into strange shapes in odd place

i am jumbled
everything is out of order
and then i see you
they re liquify and leave me
stunned

your presence is enough to heat me
but your absence leaves me
chilled as though i've been with
the penguins.

I am ever so simply a woman and so I liquify from the waist down and on the eve of a disastrous morning, I use the tips of your your lips as marmalade and marinade within the notion of you. If I was to ever go mad, it'd surely be based on the mere idea that you once knew me as certain as you knew the difference between a prism and a square, just additions and subtractions of necessary and unnecessary lines.

I fell in love with you one night in September
When crickets sang an ode to Autumn
When Gaea’s palettes matured to tones of herself
to the leaves, falling like tired angels

I remember the dying painter spitting his last few colors onto the sky,
Warm scarlets that professed themselves to be deep ceruleans and violets
When we watched, spaced, from the yellowed creaking picket fence
Wind chimes sighing in the subtle breeze.

You were the artist, a divine manifestation,
Wisps of hair breaking through your perfected face
An ocean of complexion in your eyes, hiding secrets
Reap the grains of my affection, throw it in the pitch

But I was colorless, achromatic
A beige canvas
You played me with your hues and tones and tints and
splatters of pigment

Sometimes, I’m painted vibrant oranges and yellows and reds and
pondering in sunflower fields, gentle raindrops resting on our shoulders,
crackling bonfires, leaping flames.
Pleasant comfort.

colors fade.

Vibrancy grows faint under grey.
Winter frost slithered to your heart, turned jet-black
Boreas’ wind swept you away.
Tobacco-scented Icarus, you’re bound to fall.

Ah, snowy white procession of death, take me!
Bare skeletons of trees shiver in the morning chill
A heaviness carries the shattered ice of your eyes
Unforgiving, piercing, daggers to my soul.

You fell in love with him one night in December, and I wait.
Minutes liquify, oozing to hours, seeping through cracks of my sanity.

Devise a perfect world
With glitter rather than rain
Where the weird is not frowned upon
To be different is not insane

An automatic boomerang
Of a ***** rotten gaze
An unbroken heart with a chance
Of not getting in harms ways

Splinters liquify
Holes are filled and mended
Pain is felt but bearable
And politics are ended

Such a story can be told
A life can be founded
If all the worlds people
Were just a little more grounded

Be the change
That you've been searching for
You have had it all along
You just never knew what to ask for

There is always somebody taller...somebody darker, more mysterious, better body, better kisser...
"Where do I fall short?" You ask yourself a hundred times. "Wherr is it that I was not good enough for you?"
You shout to the Angels, to heaven, to God, to nothingness. You shput because 1: you hope that maybe she will hear you and 2: Emotions such as this just aren't compatible with a calm quite and civil voice. You shout because a whisper cannot properly contain the pain you feel. A cup cannot hold the water destined for a jug.
Then, when nothing shouts back,  you liquify your pain...condense your emotions into tears and pour them into a chamber in your heart labelled: Heartache. Unfortunately that room is broken...Unfortunately that room leaks. And despite all your 'manly' efforts to not let your emotions betray you, the tears leak out of your hands and onto a page,  into a poem, onto a painting, interwoven into a drawing. Art depicting the day you heal; a distant dream... And as long as your hands are more porous than your eyes you shall never heal. As long as your eyes remain painfully Dry and your smile sincerely deceptive you shall never heal. So you wait...You wait till your pencils become blunt and your brushes obsolete. You wait until the emotion pushes against your being do violently a smile seems to tear into your very reasons for living. You wait until happiness seems a dream. And you know that these emotions are not meant to be within you... a cup cannot hold the water destined for a jug yet you hold what you know is not meant for you. So you collapse... physically, emotionally, mentally and in every conceivable way...You collapse. You break. You become a shell, a shdow of the man you used to be as the sluices in your eyes finally open and you cry. Your pain cascades down your face and mixed in between the heartwrenching sobs and the muffled choking you find a new emotion. One you've never felt before. Yet you know that it was there all along, waiting to be released. And as the personified memory of her swaying figure walking away from you appears so does the emotion. Written, nay, Burned in big red letters above her shrinking figure.
ABANDONED!
And you snap! A broken man snaps. He cries now more viciously than ever before. He stumbles to the cupboard to get a drink and proceeds to drink until those painful red letters disappear in a haze of inebriation. In a drunken stupour you grab the word and wrestle it into submission. You chuck the cursed word into another chamber in your heart labelled: Latet. Meanwhile the jagged A split your skin. The pitiless B ripped open your muscles. The cursed word is subdued, but not defeated. The cursed word left you with wounds and they are clear to the world around you. They expose/subject you to humiliation...To cruelty...To despair......
And all of this caused by a single girl. A girl who...Did not mean to hurt you. She did not mean to break you. Yet you sit on the floor, the wine mixing with angry mutterings of how much you miss her. Then you cry. Again. But this time you heal. This time the tears flow into the cracks in your soul and convince you that you'll be okay. They convince you that there will be a better day after this...That one day you will find the girl that will have another word burned above her head as she walks towards you....
*LOVE

Take one step back
into the space behind
the busy street filled with tears,
filled with mirrors, and all mine.

Stand, or sit, or lay and be there
with Eyes listening, Ears watching,
and no-thing between here and now,
and a time with words - then and how.

Can you taste the sounds of random melody?
Eighth notes galloping across the wild plains
forced to abdicate their very nature
and, instead, liquify to pure impurity...

Sense is chucked and the tin lid slammed.
Reverberation echoes with concentric chaos.
The end of life is strung tight
and bound and tuned with nothing but sweet loss.

The prelude, which this proves to be,
is forever without a name.
Buzzing with streams of liquid dreams,
transparent with eyes all the same.

Summertime blues
feeling
down n’ out
gut out
passed out
on the street corner
where I hear
a familiar song
Deadhead born a generation late
never suited me anyway
just trying to be cool
but it’s too hot
I’m melting
I’ll become something
completely new
original
leaving behind what I was
I’m changing
for better
or maybe for worse
I know I’m not perfect
growing up *****
when you first see the mold
and it starts to fit
stick to you
like sweat on a
hot summer day
when you just want to
liquify
seep through the cracks
and drain where they aren’t
watching
judging
expecting
you to sublime
into something
be someone
go somewhere
even if
you drain into the gutter
out to sea
or if you just take a bus
to California
where the beaches
are cool
where the people
are cool
where you can just feel
your problems melt away
your lover is there
waiting on the beach
waiting for you
lover boy
just go for it
what’s to lose?
just go for it
strike a match
let it burn
catch fire
and let your heart explode
lock lips
and set her heart ablaze
shoot off
like a rocket
take a look at yourself
where did you land?
or did you just burn up
on re-entry?
did you see it coming?
did you see her coming?
did you see you coming?
‘cause you were really
cool
when you were
burning bright
you did it
tiger
you shot for the red-hot stars
you wanted to shoot for
and you made it

On the sidewalk an egg you could fry
My bones are starting to liquify

i want to liquify my body

into the fibers of my mattress

solidify your

presence

so i can wake up

in the summer time

with the taste

of your name

on my lips

and your

skin

on my skin

in the summertime

is when i will wake up

to your face

I walked away from absolutes
Emotions bleeding out
Determined never to return
Preferring the sting of the hailstone
Whipped by the wind of a cyclone

The relentless hard reason I thought I served
Began to liquify and poured through my hands
The truth exposed it not as a liar
But a murderer of souls
Satiating for a long season
Before withering and void of any hope

I floated in a purgatorial ocean
Uncaring, unfeeling, not even knowing
I was waiting
I thought I saw a chasm
But it must have been a reflection in the sunlight
A signal flare to let me know
The enigma is still there

Now I don't believe love has a feeling
Maybe joy, maybe passion
But never true love
Love doesn't channel feelings
Love channels absolutes
Now I can't walk away again
The next big storm might do me in
Love will find me joy and passion
In exchange for sacrifice and service
I must only believe
The absolutes are truth and wiser than I
Everything else is just waiting to die

come drip with me
drip in me
fill my senses
with fluidity
liquify my mind
flood my memories
reunify, end your trip down stream.

drip with me, into
each possibility
roar with me
encompass all barriers
along the road
fall into
the falls with me
s  o  a  r  i  n  g  
through the bends to the end
of that trickle.

be me its all I have to offer
as I desire to be you.
I know the truth
you do too
the chemicals make visibility cloudy
and then we start to consider
is stream or steam
better?
and then we slow freeze
and develop a rigidity
and miss the abyss of the hairline split in time
we were destined to kiss.
we miss the lessons of our Mother
so we must start at the heart.

clear your heart for me
let me top off your energy
with the love I feel pulsating
through my crown. shower
You down to me.

reorganize beliefs
move like water

Want, want to stay in your paradise always
yearn for your presence when you're out of touch
flames trickled at first and then ate us in a blaze
barely remember how it was to feel your embrace.

Lost into oblivion, a dispersion of family members
all my doing, my fault, my fault, my death.
Wounded and weeping, helpless by my own choosing
flames easily stretched us apart an put us fully in the dark.

Desire to bring them back, yet constantly brinking on goodbye,
can't do it again to me or to them.
So far so good, my loneliness reasons.
What was ventured was also lost, so don't try again.

Heart yearning for the sweetness of others,
can't reach them under private enclosures.
Liquify my excitability, lose my desire for company.
Stillness is all I have, it wraps around my destiny.

When I slipped into sleep
flattening the frostbitten blades
that liquify under my body
the creeping amperage of aches
distract me from exposure

When he said 'It ain't easy out there'
he didn't envision blood curdling screams
Vivid nightmares that would pop me off my cardboard mattress
The ever common theme of falling
hoping I would hit the gelid side street

The path is singular when succumb to tunnel vision
in a gritty simulation I carry light
wallet, knife, and the daunting magic meter
In the romantic beginning, I was Aristippus twice removed
sailing on an escape route, against the grain until the end (at least)

Sit down and surrender to the waves of green
Be at peace, lie back, blend into the serene
All not matters, tomorrow never knows
Drift away into an extraterrestrial doze

Flutes will guide yourself down the lake of incense
Warm fires dance on your body, never breaching your defense
Voices chant a mantra, Hare Hare Krishna
Accept the beautiful universal dogma

All humans liquify in space into one single being
A river of herbs, a location worth seeing
The beauty of living, the meaning within
So join the spirit dance, become enlightened.

how could there ever have been a moment between us
a vast moment of perfect eternity
when you won't even look me in the eyes?

how could i have ever lied to you
and yet still act surprised when
our pathetic excuses for conversations liquify
into pools of chewed up curiosities?

i guess i wonder sometimes maybe we...i don't know, never mind
but sometimes i just hope, you know?

I am a pipeline
hidden veils
i can't stop this bleeding
it will stop in time...or so I'm told

Just give yourself the meaning
to liquify your mind
your mind is a narrow cavity

For whatever reason
the dead have filled the room
For all of the terrible things
you have made us do

You are a king
in the eyes of your peasants
you mean nothing to me

You are a jem
to those who just don't get it
but you are a parasite
and you butcher all that we love

I'll never turn my back on you
I'll never force my way through you
cause your no good
your just no good

Let me
Dip my teeth into the vemon
Of your skin-
Liquify my insides
And I'll do the same
To the ice in your gaze.