I've only said it first to one person
and I can't stop from wondering
 if that's the first time I meant it
I could never say yes
to someone who asked permission


I'm always trying to explain things with out words
If I could paint it would be easier
I'd draw a picture of us back to back
The view of us from above
holding hands, barely
with everything in front of us
surrounding us
but nothing touching us
If I had images to paint on walls
and chalk across the road
I'd have an excuse to have nothing else to say

Just to spite your memory
I think you should remember him with green eyes
as tall dark, and foreign
with an accent
anything that he was not
because you're already fooling yourself
with your supposed love
you're already remembering flaws with perfection
so why not make it better
make it a fling
remember it as constantly passionate
and exciting
with nothing wrong
no distant moments
no frustrated silences
no wondering if you cared more
remember it exactly the way it's not
as long as you're going to be ugly sad about it
make it worth the time

Train

insomnia
euphoria
insanity
depression

insomnia
pretending
suffering
depression

insomnia
denial
anger
depression
insomnia
anxiety
insecurity
depression
insomnia
withdrawl
exile
depression

insomnia
selfishness
abuse
depression


insomnia
guilt
failure
depression

insomnia

why is it so hard for people to point at what they REALLY want, and why is it harder still to actually do it?

It's not gone
I know what I want from love
and I've seen glimpses of what it can be
it's accepting that it might fucking hurt
a lot
and that no matter how many times
no matter how many different times you get to love
you're not ever really going to learn
how to keep it

You dont' need a break up to be reminded
that you're a fuck up
and that so is everyone else
and we're all just trying to find someone
or something
that will be striving to be happy
at the same time
but you can only swing at the same pace for so long
it will come and go
and sometimes it will  be so far gone
sometimes you don't get to start over
and it will always be for the same reasons

I feel like I keep getting closer
and if I stumble upon the right idea I'll get to keep it
I think I know what love is
and what I want from it
it's never where I need it to be
or where I'd like it to be
but I'm always going to try to make it work
even when I know it's in the wrong place
and if it always begins fighting against what should be
it's never going to last

but at least there is love
at least I get to believe in it

Shoved

 I think I'll take a step back
and turn around on my heels
while I have this new music playing
at a tempo that makes for moving
fast and quiet
I'll find what I need
where I need it
when timing doesn't fit into life
it's time to change
No one is in love with change
but I can be in love with the idea
of a future
of perspective
of healing
of something else
so maybe it'll stand still
in yours eyes for awhile
but eventually we'll realize
we were simply moving at the same speed
too fast to notice we were parting
it's not drifting if someone is pushing

comfortable in chaos

I feel so boring
like this monotony of bills to pay
isn't real enough to be my problem
I think I haven't given up hope
that one day a school of witch craft
will call me, apologizing for the delay
or I'll wake up and realize my childhood
prepared me to save the world today

Even love is just too practical
can't be irrational
We can't do that, it's irresponsible
we must be logical
I'm sick of careful calculations
subtle manipulation
and an incantation of
following the plan

life is too fast
life is too open
life is too real
to be and to care about the mundane
and boring

You're not supposed to be the guy
standing in the grass
throwing rocks at the window
of a girl who isn't interested
but it's always that guy who ends up winning
a better girl and a better life

No one wants to be the one who cares more
but it's always that one that the audience feels for
that people cheer for

No one wants the heart breaks and the rejection
and no one enjoys being vulnerable
but being vulnerable means you knew better

the ones who knew about love in the first place
the ones who know how its supposed to work

and how you're supposed to act
and how to show
that you're in love
do what no one else wants to do

Break away

from the mold

and accept what you want

admit nothing lightly 

for admitance requires change

or acceptance

and we are not here to accept

we are here to break

and make messes 

and to allow 

what should never happen

to happen often. 

Run on idea

Accepting what makes you happy
with the probability
that it is individually
solely
and independently 
your decision
can probably
out do
the previous
mistaken
fearful decision
to hide from anything that doesn't
fit
according to plans
and according to faith
and according to opinions
not your own
and ones not earned
or learned from.

sigh.

So many old streets
I've crossed the sisters before
but it is never the same road
to an old place
to a new place
to a new chapter

though not a new life

my life is coming and going with me
in books, and bags, and boxes
and in my head

somethings I can't forget to pack.

I'm not gone yet.

Thanks for making me feel unwelcome
It's really helping me pack
In between sitting on my bed
and sighing at almost memories
I'm packing and ready to go
and I've saved a lot of time
I won't  have to stop to say goodbye
and I'll get to cry on the way
instead of standing there in front of you not
having too much to say
and in hindsight I think just disappearing at the last second works better for me anyways
but I didn't do it for me and if you think about it you could thank me
It's ended worse
I'm sorry I didn't call you on your birthday
I'm sorry I didn't give you your gift
I've got a record to keep though
and I didn't think you wanted to hear my voice
So now I have another thing to keep and remind me of a failure
in an old state that has a lot of my life in it already

So in a lot of words
I'll take the regret out
and just say
goodbye.

Learning

So many faces at night
the faces that bring guilt
and memories
that grow with
fears
and loss
but they're pleasant
Which is what happens
when you've healed the old wounds
instead of crying
you can laugh
at garbage hills
thirty minute meals

and kissing zombies

I read lots of words
I think that I once spoke a few

In the middle of the problem
sleeps the idea that we could drop it all
and start over
keep smiling
forget the mistakes
but it stays undisturbed
because everything that's happened
feels so important
and real
the idea isn't even examined
so it's unchanged
we stay in chaos
and in painful motion

too vague, try again

We went on another date
and it didn't fit in with the last
it was out of order
I forgot that we'd already passed the hand holding phase
so when he grabbed my hand I was shocked
and he talked about his dreams like he'd related them with me before
and he told me things about myself I'd forgotten he'd seen
and he classified me as the anti-damsel, and I was impressed
but he'd said it before, still not seeming possible
I let it go
so we continued to talk
making excuses
and ignoring expiration dates

I painted a picture on his arm
with a little silver brush
left it to dry
turned around, and he'd taken it away
the arm
the paint
himself
now I'm left
where he told me I could survive
and where we planned on meeting, alone
I sat and decided to believe him
I decided to be strong enough

Science

if we challenge
the formula
for escape
maybe we'll find someway to get out together
or maybe we'll stay stuck
at this velocity, however,
if we don't choose an exit 
we're going to crash
and burn
our remainders proving
that no matter how many theories we have
the only real conclusion
is that we're here (now)

vigil on!

Some machines breath
they sigh
What they know is death
and what they've learned is from observation

the house breaths too
it shrinks
pieces falling in the void
and then jumping back
each time snapping
the ones inside feel it
(terrifying)
but it would be rude to scream
so they sway
and sing
and wait

I'm going to remind you of someone

He was  rock star high
(permanently)
I can still see the places we flew
from roof to roof

So we're sitting here in the grass
you're saying things
commenting on how I look new
how I don't remind you of the past
you looked into my eyes
and whispered a promise
about your kisses being a symbol of loyalty
something about being honest and together
It was an accident
but I yawned
before I said that was sweet
and smiled at how much you remind me of everyone

I have no poetry for you today

I was on the phone for an hour

and a half

with a girl I have never had a conversation 

beyond you go, and you rock, and see ya later

and in phone time

that's a long time

and I know it wasn't a real conversation

because I was trying to figure out

all the things I could do and still be there

to say yeah?

of course

and I agree

And you would think if it was one of those one sided talks

that it did not affect me

but while she was talking 

I was collecting her words

and listening

and calculating what to say 

when it was needed 

and I was being changed 

She told me her stories 

and I recorded them:

I can see the life I would have

I can smell the cake batter

I can see us laughing 

puzzling, and talking of matters of the heart

because that's what we did

In my mind I tell myself I would be happy

I know I'd be happy 

In my mind it's all happy

but for four years

he was leading a double life

She went on to talk about figuring out herself

and in the end she thanked me

and promised to call again

and she was gone

feeling relief

I suppose

for having someone else lift the burden 

of caring her tears

and her past 

she left me with a new piece in my heart

something borrowed 

and exhausted 

don't claim Saviour

status me this

if on a Monday in October

a being of an inconsequential race and place

came up with a different idea

one he didn't think much about

one he didn't perfect

but one that stayed with him

in that way that ideas stay

and he recorded it

aptly, properly, virally, naturally

 it was shared

and he left his name there

it was his idea

and many agreed

and many took it and added to it

and it was built up

and built on

and built in

and then it was something new

a new idea, a concept 

shaped

and his name was still there

inscribed in the cards, and windows

and you looked in 

and you were sucked in 

and you looked around 

and found it to be disagreeable

follow me now

there is a door behind you

there are doors all around you

there are windows on the first floor

there is an escape route

this idea is a stop, not a permanence

you scream
you yell
you stomp
you demand to see the man with the name
and you want everyone
the workers
the builders
the adders
the agreers
to get out, to move out, to tear it down

my question is, why do you not leave?

why do you stay to picket

why stay and protest?

why not move out

and move on

and move into a place of your own

or some other place

it's not in your way
it doesn't affect you

but still you choose to be war. 

envelop

Bursting out of the hidden mechanisms
of my inner mind
is the single
         solitary
         only
truth that I can express
From the top
From a window
From the loudest place in my lungs
The only thing I felt:
                             "i don't know!"

Because he taught us

"Take care of the sense,
and the sounds will take care of themselves."

He apologized profusely
He couldn't possibly have known

if only you hadn't been standing there
when he whispered "I won't let you go, I will wait"
he didn't mean it of course
and he couldn't see why he was on trial
It was all a mistake
you got in the way
had you turned around 'I love you too'
would of been visible
on His mirror
you misheard Him
you misread
your mistake
though He is sorry
He sends his best

but next time, do better

a real train

I was bored
I was alone
I was cleaning my room
so I made up my mind
and left to go
I got to the train station
on my own
I was tired, and hungry
and so content
the rolling
passing
fleeting
landscape greeted me,
too fast to judge what I was saying
it was perfect
everything listened
everything was warm
and the mosquitoes killed themselves

appreciated

thank you
for being the one who is there
because they really need that person
they need those people who can be strong for them
to stay there for them
they need them or else they will disappear
and no one wants that
least of all those who feel (shame)
like they should have some responsibility
so thank you
for lifting our burdens
thank you for being the one who is there
so we don't have to be

The next five will rhyme

I think she spat on the sidewalk
and I held it against her, my rock
I sent to the next door
to sift through her trash and once more
I thought about the glitter and dancing
and can't believe I forgot while romancing
that the ones that came before were all blonde
and it isn't a fact that you will respond
but I have words left, this was no war
in an ocean we have stalemates left, you snore
asleep until I'm alive again, I was the best one
you'll forget about me, but you're infected, you can't run
I hid first and when you hide here I'll speak
and you'll think "my god" and wish you had feet,
but I cut them off in the first book
You thought I was sad and longing, you mistook

100

It's not hard to forget
memories fade in and out
even triggers begin to lose aim
old words are no measure 
it's hard not to blame the past
it's hard not to look back
and feel
but it's not hard to forget
it's not hard to look away
and forget to look behind frames
it's easy to wake up
and move past the things on the floor
it's easy to get into the car
and turn on the radio
and not think once about a yesterday
it is hard not to blame the past
when time stops
and scars you forgot about: scratch
it is hard not to cling
to the things that caused this before
but its not hard to forget
it must of existed before

quote of the day: updated

May was mine first

I don't know why I do this
but it woke me up today
the idea that your baby blue
was making you so intolerable
with love and butterflies
no original thoughts there
just I feel pretty
and sad and yellow
so damn yellow

I wish the best for everyone
and I have tolerance for a blocked friend
so cute
so shiny
I like the pink and pictures
I like the stolen words
I loved your quote of the day

These aren't my words

I think we're all going to be alright
I know we're all in the middle of figuring it out
Whether we decide to laugh everything off
or we run out of time and die
we'll figure it out
We will all decide to stop running
or stop hiding
and we'll come out
and there will be a huge party
like the party everyone wants when they say 'lets party'
and then we'll all go to sleep
and life will go on

I want to want to

what I want
is for everyone I know to be happy
to smile when I talk to them
because they were already smiling
I want them to call me because they saw something beautiful
or they had an enlightening idea
and I want to be able to look around and see something normal
simple, normal, and less than extraordinary
I want to wake up when my alarms goes off
with plans
and people to love
I want to sleep when I’m tired
and to cry when it’s overwhelming
and to understand myself when I choose to be aware
I want to buy things I need
when I need them
I want to run  
and to breathe when I inhale
I want to go where I want
and I don’t want to explain anything

A borrowed skirt

She isn’t a dream

In memories I can see her

sitting there in the windows

of future houses

I can hear her singing

In my ears, by my face

I can feel the cuts

the bruises

from tomorrows without her

She isn’t allowed to be photo-ed

lost in words and sentiments

She writes still (to be remembered)

in the corners of my work

She invited the enemies in

She refuses not to exist

shallow breathing

the thick air had gotten too selfish

thinking about all the things it could do

it swam around gathering ideas

weighing down those who had been relying on it to hold them up

a heart

thinking it could escape

tied itself to as many moving parts as possible

It didn’t know it was in too deep

and all it felt was the endless tugging

it didn’t move

Her eyes built up

an empire of wisdom

they went out to preach, but forgot to speak

leaving behind a burning desire to be heard

a painting of longing  in place of regret

a moment

Thinks

instead of acting out loud ideas
 I thought about bringing the thoughts together
into quiet meaningful words
  I thought about whispering straight truths
Instead of playing with games and hard chemicals
 I thought about changing each complicated moment
into a sweet fleeting honest thing
I thought about using numbers
and logic
and definitions
to say what I mean
I thought about never deviating from the planned attack
or the written goals
or expectation

You asked me a question, and I smiled
and thought about telling you the truth

Fashionable

There's an old warm spot here
 it has never died out
no matter how many chemicals I buy
it won't fade
it won't change
it stays constant, warm
Yesterday this was a problem
I had to keep changing the scheme of my room
all of my colours clashed
all of my symmetry was broken
Now, in the present
this warm spot is in style
it's been accepted
welcomed
appreciated
a slight change in atmosphere
making it only slightly cooler

 making it cool: not a problem.

Greatest Achievment Since..

We will be relentless
and true
we will have nights
where we can say
justice has been done
and then dive back under the covers
to continue to share the burden
we will prevent further attacks on our shores
and use this unity to testify of our greatness
I'm securing what we set out to do
we have committed and sacrificed
and we will bless ourselves
God willing and God fearing

now back to work.

Stolen Miles

It's hard to write to a beat
that's not your own
when you close your eyes and see
the movement, a motion
that you can't catch
and you can't ride
to that place of inspiration
you've got nothing but this noise
and it's beating you up
into a useless mess
and you set traps to catch it
and catch yourself off guard
and put your guard off
to try to say something honest
but your innocence is so far
and the truth is so far
that all you have left is
'well everything was wrong'
and all you can share is
'shh, it's almost over'
and you call out over the voices
and you raise up the tones
and the systematic rhythms
and you fall down into transformation
and you accept that the sounds are not your own
and you conform
until it is your music
and you write the song
and you call it insanity
then you open up your mouth
then pop goes gravity

Blithe Attack

lalalalala
something happy
in conjunction with distance
no and or then
just a handful of stars
inspiration
moonlight, motivation

I drank the sea tonight
I drank to get the other tastes out
I drank for a smaller world

Inside we watched television
 and I plugged in
on the cloud,
and laughing at the lights
I fell asleep

A concert

It's the suffering period
there is nothing else to do
but survive
with her 100 dollar guitar
and her shack in the rocks
she has a pen
and when she can wake up
she writes
here's anger
here's desperation
here's discouraging (the future)
yelling at the people who put her here
and cursing at those who want to title this
with her hatred
learning nothing
but growing constantly
with a purpose
and a focus

Ascension

It wasn't a fall
but we came to the bottom
and we knocked on the doors of the basement
and we brought the pizza
hoping to fit in
but we were still floating
and they could see where we came from
and though they took our offerings
we were left at the top
looking into a world we couldn't understand
so when the roof washed away
we could do nothing but fly
and we rose up to a new world
where we all float

number sevens

I think she's nice I really like her
like a habit I can't break her
I can take it when I'm higher
I can fake it
my desire
for anyone who isn't
not you and something
much more right
and someone
who can love
more than I do
healthy
or hunger
I'd rather guess
at your inability to feel
when we talk
it balances out
all my feeling
in the moment
are you sleeping
or choking on the words
you were writing
before I popped in on your light screen
in your eyes I heard you crying
in my mind I wasn't dying
I don't rhyme in poetry
I do not care more
I do not linger

the dump

it's not like it's easy
it's not like I can just rip it open
like an old school locker
and just dump all the moldy
useless garbage out
I can't have a garage sale
and entice neighbors and strangers
to come take it away
maybe even getting paid for it
I can't even pay them to take it
It's not like it's easy
I feel selfish today

I'm talking about going on a diet

I know how to talk like I"m in
And sound like I'm in
and look like I'm in
and kiss like I'm in
and feel like I'm in
and scream like I'm in
As I am in love
only baby darling
sweetheart
I'm not in love with you.
I'm in love with someone
in the past
and far away
and no he's not the one for me
but he's the one on my mind
when my eyes get that look you so adore
and he's the one I'm thinking of
when I'm touching my face and staring out the window
and he's the one that I think of when you tell me I'm beautiful
and he's the one that knows I love him
and when you tell me you want to say those words
and I look like I want to cry
it's for him not you
and at least he knows it
he knows about you
and he has his own separate life
and he's got a future
and so do I
but darling baby
sweetheart
you don't even know
you're not even a part of tomorrow

antirebellion

The point is that we're smoking
and no one is spending anything less
than an over played reality

 we may go out alone
but we can rock the party with our decisions
in eclectic collections of us

it is our prerogative to live
and our anthem is screaming with importance
our space is the frontier

they will burn down our towers
then our words
and we will be lost forever

Today is the day we purchased
and it is the last one that won't affect
learn nothing before we are consumed

the album

I've got plans
to run
  and fly
              and keep
every piece
       of my life
that I want

waiting for sunset

maybe it's more about
pretending
until it's real
or until it's gone
or until it's dark
and you have time to sneak away
into the safety of not caring
and being able to say that
because even if you do care
even a lot
it's not even close to the words
you were measuring it with
and honestly
what the hell was he thinking?

permanant marker

I'm watching my thoughts turn away from you
and while you are deeper
and you are a part and piece
I can see me loosing you
and leaving you in the dark corners
left with other forgotten crumbs
It wasn't that I didn't care enough
or that we were both too lost
It was my need for blood
and for vengeance
and you didn't melt fast enough
you didn't swim as far as you could
you didn't have much to be sorry for
and you apologized for the wrong words
I start to think of you
and your face changes
and your words read wrong
and my memories blur
into a mix
into a solution of intricate answers
and I'm thinking more
clean

plastic scissors

it was that unshared pain
that made me want to cover you in bandaid kisses
and patches, quilting up your heart
and the holes in your eyes
more than wisdom in your aged brain
and less experience in your sad memories
I wanted my smile to take you
and I wanted you to want me
instead of the demons that held you close
I wanted to replace the chips in your sholder
with my head and my hands
and I wanted to cover you with my own peace

I was stretching, trying to reach the top
and being your anchor
I only had one direction to  fall

Welcome

Like a bird, I hear over my shoulder
I finally have an opinion
on things like faith and freedom
I finally see the beauty
in burning labels
on soup cans, and on
paper back books
I can justify helping
and I can justify sharing
because I believed
and yet now that I don't
I feel more free
and I can choose to be
or to live, and either one can work
and there is no right answer
and if hell wants me
I just won't die
Thanks for teaching me
 how to fly.

no title

I can't think straight enough
to write in lines
and in construction
and in linear understanding
so forgive me
if I forget to allude to something important
 or misplace the moral
or the moment of inspiration
needed for real interpretation
There's no foot hold here
or perhaps it can be the next line
"until we find someone new"
because that's been in my head ever since
that conversation
with the man who thinks he has administration
over my feelings
and once when I was a little girl my dad told me to go to
bed and not to move
and a spider was on my wall
and I was sure I was going to die
but I didn't move
that's when I lost my obedience
when I realized it didn't make sense
and in case you've lost track
we were talking about my last love
and being reminded that it was still there
and if you're not reading this as fast as possible
you're not keeping up
there is a truck outside
it's white and it's ready for me to hop in
and to drive as far as I can
until I reach that spot in the back of my mind
that causes these days of anticipation
because there is something that I need to do
and I'm quite aware that it's a little less than moving
and a lot less than transportation
and I think that if I tell everyone I meet
that given the chance I would die for them
that I get to mean it
even if I never get the chance
and maybe that knock at my door will be the police
and they have found me in that warm bath
dead
because someone else figured out that there
was a sequence of words that I promised myself
would lead to a slow quick end
if ever uttered to me again through the phone
I won't tell you them here but it's something like
I love you forever so
unless you want a dust party
leave me and my heart alone
I think that I may have gotten off track
but I warned that the investigation of these words
would be a subtle mix of confusion
so when I say meet me again
at this time tomorrow
you should answer with the silence
of one already running as far as possible away
then there's this guy
who says I'm amazing and thanks me
for being his friend as he kisses me goodnight
and I don't know if I should laugh or cry
because he doesn't even know that all theses thoughts are running through
my brain
because it's only been 30 seconds
and instead of saying
Darling I'm crazy, and I'm only going to mess you up
I say you're welcome and goodnight
and call him handsome as I slink through the garage
and promptly sit on the floor of my kitchen
with my head in my hands
and I think for a second I might have a plan
but then there's this
not doing anything switch that clicks when I get to my room
and then I'm thinking that nothing I've thought connects
anyways so I start over with something crooked
and buy another box of sushi
and I don't share

receipts

I'm probably going to have to rob a bank
or kill you
something exciting
and the later would be okay
It would be a rush
and something to bring up at parties
I just need a list
of things to tell myself I've done
real things that I can prove
checks in the box
so I think that I could probably do that
or maybe I'll just buy something expensive

believe it

I can't tell you which I prefer
because my brain melted
It was simply too much noise
and sound, and sensation
and the proper conditions
were set
the heightened pressure
your close temperature
and a red mustang
that part wasn't important
except that it was stuck in my head
right before my mind disseminated
and it was nothing big
and it was a simple question
but like you said
distractions.

"I told you to stay tuned"

I was thinking about how I rationalize
things that make me feel uncomfortable
with "normal people do that"
and I started wondering if I think I'm abnormal
if I think I'm not part of normal people
because I'm different or better
Do I have self confidence
or is it more of a self diagnosis
I came to a conclusion
with five words
first, I realized

sugar cane

wish I knew the rules
for games like these
but even then
It's the beggining that's fun
and this part is like flying
and falling isn't the hard part
It's seeing the finish line
which I can't so
We're still smiling and asking
our pretty questions
There are rules
but they remain broken

rhymes with hate.

it's elementary
that I would eventually
have out song
and out scored
our source
of devotion
and now I'm invoking
our deep right of motion
and moving
over and on top
of a new destination
so simply I'm saying

salutations.

pancake house

I am not worried about you
looking into my eyes
or hearing in my voice
that I still have every reason
and I still have every thought
and I still have every dream

I am not worried that you'll show up
and see I've only done it again
or at least I feel as if I have

I'm not worried you might feel my heart
it racing in my throat when I try to answer you
or that you'll notice the shake in my hands
when I try to steady myself against
how you're handling it

I'm not worried that you'll notice me watching
your every move
or that you'll even notice my ransom notes


I'm not worried

Merry Happy

You can laugh
at me in my house
when I'm dancing around
and singing at the top of my lungs
You can laugh when I've had nothing to drink
but that was still one too many
So I called you up
and told you all the things
I was going to do to you
and you can laugh when you think I don't know
what you're thinking
 and that I'm so naive
But I know you weren't lying
I know that you want me
and you can laugh when I tell you this
but I still get to buy us dinner
and I still get to read your mind
while you're eating
with your mouth full
You can laugh
you're lucky you're cute

because I'm the funny one

back to black

I'm trying to think about
a better image
Like a better coloured soup
or a brighter light in the lamppost
or something shinny in a dark place
but it all gets caught
in a wind of thoughts
that all look exactly the same

and we are always quick to call things black
or bright
or soft
one thing or another
because we know the definition
We don't need faith to call them their names
but then we're still quick to call things true
and right
and love
when we can't really know that
we know the definition
but it's still not certain
and the images in my head aren't certain
but they're black, and bright, and soft

I'd prefer thinking about rushing pools of gray
and crystal falls of mist
or a sky filled with orange coloured doubt
just something pretty and imagined
but my thoughts are all dull and plain
and constant

knock

It's highly unlikely that I show up tonight
But I did buy a ticket
So I could
And maybe it would be weird if I was standing behind you
But I know where you are
So I could
Also it'd be weird if I knew more about her
although I have a right
So maybe I could
But it isn't interesting to me
it actually kinda bores me
Thankfully I know who I am
almost because of you
but really in spite
so if you really think about it
It wouldn't be so weird if I showed up tonight
Because I always pop in when you'd least expect it
and when you have the most to hide
I'm perceptive that way
(hey you)

it's not poetry anymore

I can pray still
I can pray that maybe
even after I've screamed
(it was only goodbye)
that even after you know that I hate you
and even after you've seen proof
and heard
and even after too many new lines have been crossed
I can pray that you'll call it bluff
that you'll point at my insanity
and call it what it is
and 
Well I don't know what it is
sometimes I'm right
very right, and sometimes it's not us
and sometimes I'm not good enough
and I'll run and close my eyes to the pain
but I never run far enough
I guess it's how I stay alive
I must like it
what else is (love) for?
I'll stay, to watch you
sort through your quick forevers
remembering how it worked when I was there

I can still pray.

Poetry

fuck this

It's just

woo
well, It's not like I didn't see it
or feel it
or taste it
but it was all a little fuzzy
and shaky
and it's always made me nauseous
like caffeine
but I keep drinking it anyways
and I keep shopping for dresses
walking by the hats
and if you knew how much I like hats
this would appall you
but hey
this is just honesty
just words
and bubbles
(what's with the bubbles?)

almost colorful.

It's a puzzle.

In the dark we can feel cold squares
filled with mysteries
the unknown.
if we close our eyes
we can imagine our fears
and the ideas can attack us.

I prefer the idea of
tinned cookies.
the homemade kind
in the silver tin box
sealed
and mailed first class.
and maybe somewhere else
a book about trees
and a child learning to read.
maybe in a different language
with people painting smiles
on the faces of dolls
and maybe they're hungry.
and maybe someone will notice.

Smaller problems are addressed
with envelopes.
and stamps.
and sometimes fit in boxes.

my ears are ringing.

he whispers
"Quiet, please"

and we try
and sometimes it's just painful
and we close our eyes
and we let it eat the silence
and we watch it
cloudy and swirling

We listen to the time fall
and we breath in to say words
but they're already gone
shaking in the atmosphere
icy, and jagged
slippery.
he whispers again
"quiet, please"
and sometimes we feel it
just before it slides away
into the broken pieces
scattered across the nation.
from one side to another.

sometimes we are simply moved.

No Kings

let me remind you
that it was you
who said you were sorry first.
and had you not apologized
I wouldn't of jumped off the fence
in the first place.
It's just
I know you
and when you apologize
it's never good.
and when you ask me for my forgivness
I know it's going to hurt
the words that come next.
and that's why I jumped.
I didn't want to know why
or what you had figured out
and I had no more energy
to figure out my next move
and I just wanted to feel the wind in my hair
for a few seconds
before things started to hurt
because lying here
I at least know why it happened
And I don't have to wonder anymore
I don't have to put anything back together
With luck I won't have to worry about getting help
anymore.
It's my pain
and I saw it start
or at least saw it coming
with my eyes open
I took control
But if I must
I apologize.

a minor injection.

Can I just be vague for a second
and tell you that I need you
that I would like nothing more than you
to come over
with a box of dollar store toys
and I want to film us running around
filling time with squirt guns, paper flamingos, and
maybe those little cowboy costumes?
I want to take pictures of you when you're mad
Cause I just told you your Xbox is probably
the least important thing to me
in the world.
I really want you to be mad at me for forgetting to call
before I come over
and for me being friends with your cute sister
and not minding hanging out with your family
even if you're not around
I want to pop in on you after class
and I want you to tell me I have to let you have time with your other friends
and that you need space cause I'm just around too much
and that when you invite me to hang with the guys
you're just being nice, and maybe I should get some other friends?
I want that to be our biggest problem
too much time together.
Now I'll be straightforward
we don't even exsist
so we can have whatever it is we want
I just wish that the real world was like that
that we had air balloons to fly away in
and kites to crash land
I just wish.

needs inspiration.

 I have dreams
about being tied up
and bound a the feet of people I care about
and I always feel like
my life is in their hands
and I'm always afraid of what they'll do
I'm afraid of what it is I deserve
I'm afraid that they weren't the ones I was supposed to trust
but they're the ones I infected 
 the ones that I let myself grow from
I'm always afraid
Merciless vengeance and
retribution seems more plausible
I'm always afraid
that they're disgusted by my imprisonment
that they'll throw away the keys
and the maps and the instructions
and lock me further away
out of sight so they don't have to see me
so that they can't see my pleading eyes
so they don't see me beg

I always wake up.
and I stay afraid to ask for help.

silent h

white and pink nails

slinder white fingers
moving and clicking
and dancing to the sound
of running and breathing and
once it was more simple
once it was more like cake frosting
or scooping iced cream
or chipping at paint
or  assuming you knew him as well
like our neighbor
the one with the long list
of things he'd done and
things he wanted to do
for the world, for himself
for me
forgetting the rules
we had long nights
and long laughs
and long intended to see
the future together
when I got here alone
it took me awhile to accept
it was a dream
In your dream we end up flying
with crooked fingers
and half ideas

and lists.

the wall

plastic bags
torn and knotted
on strands of barbed fence
blowing in a silent wind
(yellow glass)
there is a yearning
a feeling
we don't know how to talk about
we haven't moved past loving
and missing
into a deeper something
 it's right there
between your heart and your soul
and it bites
it doesn't want to be named
arbitrarily.
it controls the tears
and chokes us when we try
it leads us to forget and to write about other
clear and sharable feelings
to sing about loss, and warmth
and glitter
it guides us to kiss
to linger in each others eyes
until we are caught
until we pass by
the secret.

I closed my eyes and

the rain pounded the walls
it shook
and broke down my surroundings
nothing in reality would bring me back
the damned Grandfather Clock struck
and struck and struck
the only sound left in my world
these new sounds
made me shake
and the tears stung
I held my head by the ears
and sobbed
silently
I can't remember what brought on this endless
overwhelming
despair
but it consumes (me)

well then fly

if that's the way it works

I don't think you're supposed to write in the "mmmm"

hips swaying
Like a fifteen year old
that thinks she's sexy cause
she watches MTV
and she know that these moves mean
something
An occasional miss step
an off beat move
a face
reveals her truth
She's scared
And she doesn't really know
what she's asking for
with her poutty lips
and her, I believe the term is
"come hither"cologne
she liked the feel of his button up shirt
she likes his hands on her waist
but she doesn't know the rules
the way of the social animal
she doesn't know she's revealing too much
that her innocent smile is signing her
permission
in time
she will be aware
she'll have plans
and she'll be numbered among
the heartless
the ones who've had their cup filled

She can't have known for very long
that he was the one who would change her mind
that he was going to steal away with her worth
she just liked his smell
she didn't even know there was a phrase
"daddy issues"
and she thought broken hearts were glorious
and resolved in high quality romance
She didn't know it was mostly just going to get messy
and sticky
and smell like a Marriott hotel
and feel like yesterday's take out
over glorified Tso Chicken

Someone should tell little girls
that walking out of a party through a stairwell
 onto a street
wishing that cops would arrest you
and wishing that someone would hold you
and not ask why you were crying
is the real world
someone should tell them that
boys aren't prince charmings
to be trusted to save you from the
Jabberwocks of life
that heavy eyes
and emmotions that leave you shaking
on the ground
rolling in alone
would be a reality
a reality that would make you think twice
about leaving
the bastard that hits you
that chain smoking
quick with a bat bastard
the one you would kill for a friend
but would die for
just to never be alone.

She's back on that dance floor
hips swaying
innocent for the last time
about to be
broken.

a red knot

I'm thinking more like:
that reminds me, this isn't what I'm used to
this reminds me: of something I miss
I miss: my heart and my backdoor
and my window.
I listened to your thoughts and I heard nothing
but noise
loud colours, harsh shapes, and crystals
Your thoughts are growing
growing, and growing
with echoes and choruses
how can i keep up?
I was thinking something more like hello?
But I guess, I guess.......

real quick.

I stuck my head under the faucet and immediately
It struck me
I have bigger problems than this.

Rosemary and mint rushed past my ears
and I thought about dyslexia and disgraphics
and I thought of the irony of all those tests
I breathed in the mist and the ten dollar odors
and I remembered tears and beaches
bowling and fishing
and how those relate for me
Mermaid glass flashed in my memory and
my thoughts turned to storage.

like Birthdays

How about something happy
Something full of truth and brightness
Is truth bright?
Is there anything but lies in the happy endings
is there anything but falsehood in peace
ignorance: the blessed saints singing hymns
I say 'O' when I feel the acid rising
not for the vast scenery or deep beauties
O that hurts, and it's full of the past
Acid running over my hands
from my inside
i created this.
My creations are not half full
nothings empty
everything is erupting
blasting and bubbling
O, I miss
and O I think
and O I know
It's much less complicated
no awe
no above
O, but something happy
(next time)

With Power

it is this:
these hands wrapping around
         and twisting around
         and ripping around
my eyes. and my face
and my hair
and my past, and my thoughts
 pulling at the roots, and
pulling at my ideas, and beliefs
it's thinking O I should kneel
I should get down on my hands
on my knees, in my own pool of insanity
and I should ask, and I should plead, and I should speak
but when I get there
when I'm in the position of the humble, the faithful
when I'm down there I can't bow my head
I look up and think you don't deserve me
I crush my crosses and drink my tea
and breath in my Addictions
It's unsaintly
It's being angry and when I do speak
When I care to offer words
It's not respectful
It's not fearing
It's angry and it's fire
and I scream:
PROVE IT
get off your porch and show me you've got it
get off your stilts and fight me here
I can take you.
I can take you down.
And then I break and I'm back.
In my position of the beggar.
I open my eyes and I'm still on the bench
Holding a green book of songs and promises
and something has changed.
Instead of singing
I imagine throwing my book at the leaders
I imagine stripping the world away and dancing
on the fires of burnt words.
And then I open my real eyes
and she's still there reading the proclaimings
and Truths, and Realities
and I take a breath and take the steps to forget
and with out pretending I bow my head
and whisper Amen.