Where did we run off to
and end in
separate ways of road
I miss you


But who's missing
Me or you.
Why does it feel as if
you've left me
why does it feel as if
my lies are true
I miss you

But I also wish you
the greatest best
of your new found things
but also
I am missing

did you
notice
it

the "gone-ness" of it all
of me
of us
of we

No more.
Do you miss it?
Did you notice?
Are you too in love
To see the loss
inside of me
that crawls out
and cries for you
my friend
and doesn't leave
just goes back in.

Please miss me too
Please love me too
Please don't forget me
My greatest friend.

If I extend a paw,
my toes would separate, and I would admire the webs betwinx my pink pads. I would glance at them, with large light green eyes --
moistened and glistening from my tears.
I would be sad.
So feathered down, like a ghost goose whose body was given to flames.
Roasted and seasoned to bless the bellies of hungry children. Selfish, foolish children.
I would not bring my skull to motion
and only twist my heavy living frame.
Simply, stretch this paw of mine farther out.
Giving my body to sensations. To relaxations.
These muscles unaware of their tightness, their knots.
And when all doing so, all senses would fairly appreciate...
granting me with gentle gratuitous pleasure.
Now, out ahead my cold paw remains,
this rugged elongated snout of mine shut.
When my whiskers turn and my nose acknowledges the odor the breeze lends, the sweat being stolen from my now frozen paw, aching to return into the warmer-haven against my chest.
To return and meld
into my fur just like all the rest. I shiver curled against myself, 3 paws touch one another, safe. My entirety lain to one side. One eye to the sky the other to the dust.
The other facing the dusk
that surrounds me, much as time does. And faintly I breath. It is the only thing I notice. A blank mind does not notice much but what is closest.
My life still going.
My lungs still pulling,
heart still beating,
blood pulsing,
fluids slipping down my throat, through my veins.
Function-- normal.
The disarray has left me empty,
tail tucked in time, in space, one that pushes steady forward.
No one has the power to halt it. Nothing has the power to stop
neither this heart nor mind from crying out its faith..
I am blank........... but still
..active still..
Twitching a tail out limp
against the ground it flickers and flags.
Sway against the air it does, swaying for my soul.
Why does it idle? How long has it been? I cannot know any longer,
no-one can.

I know I am not in love with her.
But sometimes I feel compelled to say the latter.
Sometimes I feel pressure to choose,
when I ultimatly know for certain
how I feel and how she feels
its just the needy thing inside me
this heart that wants
and mind that lies for it to get
for it to be falsely satisfied
but why
why mess around with such a thing
why make me so so so obsessed with her?
not dangerously so
yet still
still
I need to talk to her
I must
I need to hear her voice
to calm me down
romance does not need to play the part
romance does not need to paint our story
i crave it and seek it in the wrong places
i wonder how long
how much longer
will I be able to hold back
love me
love me precious fox.

I fight....... to keep my dreams
alive alive
alive
but* everyday they seem to
die die
die
once in a while I'm able to
revive revive
revive
...but..
*why?

Dear friend I'm sorry

the *serpents inside of me
they crawl all over
throughout my body
egged and born early out of fate
out of destiny
triggered like a batting clock
basking in their there-ness
waiting-- to be used
to be struck alive
energy
               negativity
just hatch-lings of change

they shiver and squirm
find direction within
and then they get hungry
slurping at everything
till they've tasted the honey
and kissed at my pain
they
then
knew their game
and


they eat it away
all my irritant thoughts
****** dry as they burrowed inside me
all day
all my sighing when sighted
they lick up delighted

my plight unknowing, and innocent then
unaware of, yet
they were my friends
but


they grew
in length, and in strength, and in appetite.
Hissing and Searching
slithering through every part
a presence unfelt
until
they found my heart
like a thick sack of milk
what a goldmine
what a find
these two serpents big and old
have grounded me
found my touch
attached onto to my soul and mind
all the pain saved for their glory
and doomed for mine.

And I felt them
against my blood they moved like slime
those serpentine lines rolled up my spine
From my heart
through my stomach
to my right brained side
devouring me
and stealing  my time
and they **** me
they **** me
even today.
Even as I'm reaching for **Goodbye

there Is a pain I feel that cannot be  licked clean by fields of grass or pockets full of money
a Pain that i cannot glean from which way it was fathomed
'fore it strike me
'fore it disgrace my face with twists and hate and liquids
it does so without out grace, and lacking hesitation
but patience
it grows in me
it drinks me up
it tastes me slowly.
i'm Eaten by this pain each and every-wake
will it take for my own wake
for it to go away?

the foreigner has settled
deep within my bones
again, its always in my bones
my bones are somehow home
and seeping up every-while
its drinks upon my soul
like a ******* vampire
and ire grows
it grows right beside the sadness
when will it end?
when will I ever see myself again?
why is everyeone depressed?
why?
it isnt fair.

Lately
My words have been simple.
Too simple.
Where's the complexity of my heart
Where are the loud crashing dirges of my soul
Where did they go?
Or where did they go?
What is this dribble...
why does everything rhyme
and why does each poem
Lately
carry the same tide.
Woe is me
just 17 but
woe I be.

Dealing with anger innocently
means we become angry and immature
where you shout and you scream and
you make love to  irrationality
and you make truths
           tweaked
and mice
            monsters
then,
how do you deal with mature anger?
the type that's repressed and kept
the type that expresses through
clipped words and picked sounds and licked letters
where you hold your tongue
and beat your drum and
sigh loudly.
What now do with this anger.
When neither can answer and each has understood
each has come to know the anger and
which it there stem
so why be it..
the lost remain lost


this "mature" language of anger is obsolete
we must like children
disrupt this planet
erupt amidst the winds
and cry

Hush stupid child
Be a silent as you can be
Don't let them see you
don't let them catch wind your
Worthless cries.
Keep sobbing.
Do not deny that you are yearning,
you are hurting.
Everyday.
Keep crying child.
It will never get better again.
We must leave you... why?
Because we've seen you.
And we do not like it,
What we saw.
Come now.
Keep weeping.
It won't make us come.
It wouldn't give you love like we could,
did, would.
No, child you've lost yourself.
And so we have lost you too
Dead to us.
Yes, but we pretend.
While you pour tears onto your upper lip
We pat and coo
and we pretend
Oh friendship? Silly.
The deepest of them
yet fall into pity and put
you on the rack.
Aye beseech us.
And keep crying.
Just keep on.

Is it weird how I remember one of your favorite artists was Frank Sinatra?
That Red you adored.
On your lips, on your nails, clip clopping heels on the floor.
That you were born on the 18th
In one of the J's of summer.
That you eyes were "fat" you called them
and Sad..
and beautiful..
I cannot look at them anymore
they are filled with everything
everything.
Is it weird that I remember
how full the face of you
how alluring, proactive, your smile
I remember even, how you hated your nose
It was too wide you said.
How your cheeks were too thick for your taste.
Its weird.
How in class, as we learn about Shakespeare, I still look forward
for that little second
to telling you, showing you what I've learned of what you like.
I miss how I got used to out short
random chit chats.
You'd inspire me to come to love an idol of yours
and not only for you she now lives inside
Marilyn Monroe.
Her beauty you desired, her beauty you longed for and admired
and I to
she only reminds me of you
just of you
I wonder how would that be to know?
How you were the Spain to my Romano
and my Romano to your Spain.
How you made me love Spain, Antonio- Carriedo.
That Tomato ******* head.
How you portrayed him, with your joy
all of you joy and with the underlying of your sadness
was his sadness
made him beautiful.
My heart cherishes your Spain, and cherishes you.
Its odd, how I remember your voice.
The exact tone, and that sometimes I hear it, or want to
and find myself remembering a time when
you spoke the words I love you
doubtful
always, careful, but openly.
I miss you. I do. I think of you every passing day.
Its as if you were dead, good forbid it, far ahead it will come but for now its all the same.
You are gone from my life.
I'm sorry,
so sorry....
but no more regrets. I miss you my friend.
You were one of the best.

Of course I'm alone.
But who isn't...
maybe if you tell me
I could join them in that paradoxical life.