Cascading puddle of brown and red and gold
I lay in the sunlight beside you
until the clouds take the sun away.

you seem to be far away,
and that's okay.
I'm rarely here, anyway.
I tend to never let myself
be fully present
our of fear of the impermanence.

I crave your flesh against mine,
and soft loving words
and warm breaths and even warmer kisses.

but I'm honestly afraid
that I am too broken
to be of any use in that sense.

I want to feel the blood pulsing beneath the surface of your skin,
so I know you find me less of an annoyance
and more of a blessing.

but how do I know this?
honestly I don't.
you don't tell me these things,
and I have trouble knowing if I am worth anything at all.

I wonder if you know
how I love you so.

if you're aware of how I so desire
your eyes filled with fire
or the way you fill my heart so rapidly
everytime you smile or look at me.

but I wish I could explain properly
all the ways I am not okay,
like how I cannot just ask for food or things or say what I would like to do.

like how I feel guilty
when you pay for anything for me,
or how I feel bad
when I can't quite keep up with
or pay attention to your video games.

but if I could melt into the sunlight,
and guide upon the path winding,
I would if it meant your peace of mind

genius is snapping at my dragons. feel free to ask them. they’ll barter hard tongues
and won't apologize for mad hatters. but this. This matters.
it ungathers. It unravels and the sunscape chafes on the void's tatters.
but it rathers you know me now,
than meet me at crossroads.
it's your call.

come
from your unexamined life
and be sitting with your eyes
like two mouths.
they will speak when spoken two;
when i give you all...
and you want me
too.

hello. my name is unsung. and That's the song.
don't get me wrong; but right your vessel -
and
this ocean will float your devils
with your nephelim. with your unbridled elan.
be sweet. keep your feet unplanted, but be enchanted by the road you're on.
find me in the thicket of unbearable seeing.
you will be me -
for the moment you release
' things '
and imprison Nothing.
of course
you'll need a cauldron
to rehearse your heresies
as often.

may i suggest
a new
guess ?

a question that suits you
better than " what the **** ? "

and has feathers ?

can we do that
and love each
other ?

It’s too hot outside for what feels like forever,
I resent it because even though I don’t know it is,
I feel it is, a signal that no matter if I tidy up, brush my teeth
and put beer stained t-shirts in the hamper

the sun will swell and gobble up my effort
absorbing freshly vacuumed floors into an inconcievable inferno.  

But God, it’s the sun.
What’s a pile of ***** dishes to solar fire, He whose wrath I feel a billion miles away.
God, infinite infinities of distance but I’m sweating in the time it takes to find my car in this Godforsaken parking lot. God there is nothing worse than parking lots. I’ve never been pleased to spend a moment more than I expected in a parking lot.

Every blacktop another ****** unbearable embassy of hell - a boring, baking sunscape.

Each and every one an anti-oasis of indifference and privation.