Hold your breath
Count to three
Be Whoever you need to be
They can’t hear you
anyway
It’s not the time
internalize
Tip and slop like turpentine
Stick me on the fishing line
Cast it up
above my head
Thoughts glisten
I breathe dead
Weightless
Wakeless
Asleep at the wheel
begging and praying
Make me a deal
Finish me
Finish them
Don’t turn back and see
They’re crawling on the walls and beams
Still stuck there
A creepy christening
Tell me I won’t remember who
Who I was before
I met you

Ringing
A ringing
Far off and remote
Yet closer now
Than it has ever been before

The moon awakens
Dormant tunnels lit again
The hollows reverberate
Lost echoes of the past

Memories long forgotten
Return to us once more
The stars themselves realign
Following the patterns we were taught

It draws near
Ever nearer
Until all are but shadows
Of distant wakeless dreams

get your house in order
your things in order
your lies and loves in order
the end is nearly too near to ignore
we come so far, fight so hard
and still
what is left?

what is left is a rotten dream
that belongs in the past
a dream that no one has owned
for generations now
but we’re too afraid, too stricken to say
that no one wants our parents’ parents’ wants
what is left is a Frankenstein of a country-
a nation so gnarled and scarred
it is barely recognizable
as being created in
a free democratic image,
a re-creation so afraid of being burned
that it reacts violently
to the mere idea
of coming under fire

and still
we put up
shut up
and lock and load
bring home boatloads of black boxes
filled with the corpses of could-have-beens
tuck our valiant patriotic
flag- and country-loving
sons and daughters to sleep
through eternally wakeless nights
in the dirt of this land of lost promises
because the decision making machine
of false democracy
is nowhere near to closing the war factory

No risk
Full aversion
Sleep my life away
Because living it is harder
At least my dreams
Can make me somewhat happy
I get to see her
In some of them
And because I'll die
If I have to live with this ****

Now I know, nearly two years later
I won't forget till forgot is forever.
Reduced to a child within your presence
A mere adolescent without will or discretion.
But brought to tears not yet have I
yet crying incessantly inside I hide.
For what is a dream with no hint of reality?
What is a fight with no reason for hostility?
A waste of time and imagination, of blood
and courage, yet more aggravations.
Go tell a fighter in the midst of his rage,
educate a dreamer in the midst of his dream;
I am the dreamer in the middle of my life
in my conscious reality I rage I strive.
In my wakeless delusions I long for you,
in my futile reality I dream it's true.
Desperately drowning because drowning's my fate
hopelessly yearning because drowning's no fate.

He comes back home and the wars begin
His parents see his existence, a sin
He's on his phone, talking with a friend
Everything's okay, he would pretend
The friend is rude, the boy is meek
He cannot talk, to not be called weak
His feelings to his crush are very immense
He's not loved back, he's anxious and tense
He was by no means the best
But he deserved to live at least like the rest
Yet he swallowed the pills and he sunk deep
As he slowly drifted into wakeless sleep

He wants you to know that he feels wasted.
The feeling of ash in his mouth, tasteless, 

but the numbness he feels isn’t painless, just nameless.
He thinks you think yourself blameless but his hatred, though baseless; shapeless and aimless, reckless,

is tenacious; holding him in stasis. Sleepless. Wakeless.


“You took all that I had and spread it out like a selection on a cheese board for all to see, but you… You kept my heart for yourself. And every now and again you return to it and watch, pressing down slowly upon the needles that hang there like some strange, disturbed voodoo doll. Well, when the needles have been pressed through, they’ll have nowhere left to go, and the holes that you leave, will heal over tenfold.”


  Waste not, want not.

  Want not, waste not.
                  Wasted not, wanted.
                  Wanted not, wasted.
                   Wasted no. Not wasted. He just feels it.

My daydream lover has become a nightmare I'm unable to wake up from.
I gave him a 100 sleepless nights only to receive 101 wakeless morning.
I'm unstable in my body where he's unstable in his mind,
"Talk to me" he whispered,
"tell me your immaculate details"-so I can carve each thing you dread into your headboard,
I know he meant.
He drove so fast, tinted reality,
I thought I'd finally won the race against time. It seemed to be dark for hours because I never had to lift my head off the pillow, it grew with lip stick stains and the sweet perfume of my confessions.
He swore he'd make life so ******* comfortable,
He swore me he loved me but I wasn't in his cards,
he told me his parents would adore that I am passive, they're aggressive
but no matter how many times I tried paint myself the queen of hearts the suits were already delt,
and Gambling isn't my forte.
Broken hearted casino, deprived intimacy addictions.
An emptiness so moving he's hung me on the wall for all too see.
I'm black frame ******* vulnerable.
I'm art and he's honourable.
Throwing up affection,
Lustful infections.

Sometimes
in the mornin'
dawn awakens
unquiet heart
    swaddled
   in a dream ―

       and
      i hear
    a whisper
    from a voice,
gentle as a burning
      candle,
 sing to me softly
without words

... a stirring
moment ripples ―
an unholdable dream
    fleeting;
    lapping
wakeless silence;
... vanishing , . .
    swilled
by the daylight
   just beyond
   closed eyes
     awoken

    and now
 it's only me
      again



words in the wind

Between the first and last
Nothingness, before the cry of Men
I feel the silence of centuries

When Earth was occupied by
A fathomless zero of eternity
A tulip temple of wakeless night

Dawns and sunsets gone uninterrupted
Before the tardy suffering of mortality
That mute featureless unknown

Of absolute patience is, prolonging
The quantum observation of creation
The kind slumber of a million suns

Jewelled dreams of nameless movement
Before symbol, idea, language, innovation
And before fire, war, cities, desire, wealth

All that makes men beasts and unspiritual
I feel the shadows spinning, entry of souls
The heavy cosmic rest before another cycle

One spirit sole of creation ready to rise again
Yet another species to make their disillusioned grin
Their stamp upon resources, upon history

To force the world’s blind necessity
To arise with the glamour of the flesh
And make the worlds shudder with man made scars.

There is no word for these:
Old friends in new bodies
gOld souls with
Ancient minds and
Youthful eyes.
Some of us have
The blood of Mary inside
Others raise from wakeless lakes
You, I beileve, have both.

Balancing on her railroad ties
She whispers,
That's your own impression
And she adds,
Why do all your smiles pass like clouds,
Instead of sticking around like thick crowds?
Because! I answer ( in different words )
Even the best eyes, still
Cannot untie our blind minds,
Cannot disarm our arms,
Cannot keep our feet from passing on.

Fair, she allows
But now, quiet your mind
Forget your words, and
She starts to hum softly
His soul circles him, it turns
The passing train breaks his trance
Buried back in his body now
Hearing pistons pounding in his head
Dreaming up old friends again,
Real and fake, then
Unmaking them, one by one
Finishing with this one
Lady of the lake
Toes tickling the water, blond curls like clouds,
Eyes belying death...
How is it this one shares a friend
In us all?

It’s too hot to sleep, and so I’m sitting on the curb. A mosquito whispers in my ear and I lazily sweep her away, I don’t have time to listen.  Not tonight. Not now when his breath is stained with alcohol, not when his eyes are red from restless nights. Wakeless nightmares. He sits on the curb in silence--sitting next to me--hunched over, his spine silhouetted on his skin. And we sit there for hours, exchanging no words, only breaths. Each taking a turn breathing in a little poison.

How many wish their days were different.
Just how far would one force the wheel back.
How many hours and seconds feel wasted.
On people.
Phone calls that last into the a.m.
Sleepless nights.
Wakeless days.
We call them day dreams.
Because when night falls.
Only nightmares await.
What is it called when the terror recedes due to repetition.
So many ache for a life less frightening.
Constantly swerving to avoid shadows.
Disregarding the dotted lines left by those that embrace an unknown.
That will never be traversed again.
Creating a fear of mistakes.
That only feed the ever growing mass which ironically will never know growth.  
It is too​ perpetual to be called stagnant.
And we have yet to see just how much will be consumed.
It's only when a distinction can be made.
That will cause such a drastic shift in paradigm.
Sending tremors of enlightenment and damnation alike back to the epicenter.
Just to shake down what meager sandcastle stand.
Can one breathe life.
When so many forget to inhale.
Then ****** themselves into an endless void.
which should never have been undertaken to begin with.
Like trying to start a car without first getting out of bed.
Then realize only a tire-less bicycle is all that sits in the drive way.
One Should fear.
For sometimes it is the only drive that can be counted on.

His only talent is leaving without warning
Only god knows where he could possibly be
His favorite activity is drinking into a wakeless sleep
His secrets are twirling in smoke and piles of pills
His disregard and spite are the only memories I keep
My father is not a happy man.
Nothing can change that, not even my mother can.

Like minnows through trawler nets
They get by

Neutrinos stream in my head
All the time

A gross grip on spinnerets
Catch a fly

Where are you in the wakeless night?
Close your eyes

how dose you think a day begins? its
little teeth
smally thin
(as grass between)
the throats of men?

does you think it green as blades of thinness wide
,sprouted mutely?

does you go out to fields and collect it?
in your hands do it shake and quivers?
(does you bring it up to your mouth,
and does you kiss it?
entering the thick copseness of your pallet?)

who many days you been in hurt verdant roughness of coarse forests?
(you been amongst em sleeping the hot hair is full of drowsy longness
and your muscles slackly follow into deeep chambers of distilled nuthing?

you been out back? by the glade brush and the doe mouths
are white with steep petals of lingering health?

"take itup your mouth," goes the drawn trees, drawing even deeplyer
into the quant tussle of wakeless hours where a twitch don't and not
even a cat.

)the forest goes and does you ever think how those thighs
combed with coarse wreaking of bleeding youth
tasted like copper tastes hot at your tongue climbing your whole mouth
into its neat dumbness?

(the Summers there are millions of Summers left and does you think
how

a    day


begins
?

One has become the sunlight
Has become a field of endless sunflowers laughing and crying and being beautiful
This first friend lost because of a fight in the mountains and a bitter poem and inability to decide because I always knew the answer
This first friend had to get away from me and I don't blame them
Now I see the photographs of the first lost friend and I feel melancholy joy that the smile remains three years after I'm gone

Second friend broke my silly heart
Second friend on this list but for all intents and purposes first in many more respects
First time I knew that this sick machine of dark oil brooding and sentimental lunacy could feel regular old love
Second friend that was even the first of my living friends in all sincere sentiments
But the train couldn't bear to stay in the station for much longer and after 2 whole round trips decided that it was best to keep moving, coals in the furnace, fire burning the track behind
Lovely friend that I kept awake for in deep night searching for reasons to go meet the sun together
Honest friend who deep down knew that I would hurt in some way
Foolish friend who honestly felt that the best policy was not only keeping the skeletons in the closet but covering the closet door with wallpaper to keep everything in and me out

Two friends, oh how I disappointed you
How now I ache and twist in sleepless dreams of the one chance you come back to hear my apologies
But in wakeless days I watch and wait for a peace that won't come from either of you
Two forgotten lost friends burning holes in my heart with cigarette butts and cutting my mind with safety pins
It's nights like these where I want to see past my own reflection and see how you are

It was real, so very so
While waiting to be seen
A glance from faceless one
That alien enthralled by me
Still attempting any features
Leaned closer for hope to see
Like looking into black hole
The darkness drew me closer
So mesmerized didn't notice
Elongated fingers gently so
Caressing , transference, life
Understand now two shall be
Her partner all observant
Also soaking in our ways
Then the man sees and barks
Barks out that cruel command
To take her away to gate 17
Fear kicks in, she'll not be seen
Chances of further growth
Sliced permanently away
A sad cry rocks her to and fro
Her mate rocks heads together
For their final embrace
Being dragged now to oblivion
Enraged I fight their methods
Last thing I did accomplish
Nothing at all if that counts
Cruel social needles pierce me
Taking my mind to wastelands
Strapped and wakeless I am
The man gleems upon my shell
I'm now part of gate 17

The waters boil cold
Over lifeless sunken chasms
The dim sun struggles
To pierce the eldritch waves

The light ever fades
And in the distant ages to come
Will all fall to darkness
An involuntary wakeless dream

Lest the stars are roused from their slumber

Don't misread me for spelling this out to you,
as the sun and moon will eventually cry together
That will be the warmest winter I ever know.

If I don't wake up tomorrow,
I'm sleeping through my pain,
Soaked up in my tears,
drowning in that pain
So if I die, my death is only for other people to live.

I gave my all, but only got little,
I feared you've stopped listening to my prayers so you can listen to the others.
I questioned love, and you're still yet to answer,
so care for me last, as you care more for the people in my life first.
And if you hate me for these selfish motives, I ask you to forgive.


My own opinion has never lead me to anything better,
so I hardly think for myself when I mostly think for others.

I only want to be heard,
but everyone I know takes for granted my every word.

I just wish to be seen,
but nobody sees what I really mean.

I waited on your timing,
but time has run out for me.

So how do I trust when that trust is empty,
how do I ask when you never listen
And how do I live,
if living is only a slow walk to death

How do I dream when all my dreams are just my constant nightmares
And how do I follow the rules of my wake, while looking for a place to escape


Surely it's so hard to keep yourself together,
sunny outside but living under the weather.
Overcast, overcast, overcast,
I know my future depression has it's rein within the past.

I know I should care more about myself,
but I'm so stuck on loving everybody else.

What's left for me if I leave my heart out for you all to pick in
To stay above high waters of every relationship,
but I know I'm just a sinking ship

Titanic, Titanic, Titanic.

If love was once mine,
I'm  convinced I never had it.

Given all to my friends after I divided it with my family
As I'm crazy enough to enjoy the sense of pure insanity.

The man everyone looks to lean on,
who could write a picture for you all to dream from.

Some days I hate it, but do it all out of love,
So often I fake it, so let me end up weightless inside of being wakeless