and i am telling you we have not been here before

If only you would move

you've left your mark

hit the target

just like you do every time

you are hopeful and sweet,

face turned up toward the light

running from you
i am running away
running down the page but
ive been waiting for months
praying for years
filling my lungs and
puffing smoke away from me
dragging my feet along the ground

i could eat your heart (out) over and over again but i wouldn't ever get full never ever


shut the door
drag the well
fill the lake
I AM READY WHEN YOU ARE
ready to jump to scream to fall ready for anything with you
i think youre ready.
i know you arent ready.

this is your future served on a platter (here it is here it is)
preventing you from touching me
too strong it's too strong and it is holding you back
stop talking with your mouth
(full
stop) breathing when your mouths
(full
stop)
take a swig and
jump off the bridge and
knock you out
knock you down
pin it back
take you now

i wrote this half asleep and it is nowhere near as good as you deserve but i will never show you my top quality shit

Listening to Cho Cho San

Fall in love all over again.



Pinkerton is the best frigging album ever.

i will stay as i am
until you don't tell me not to
anymore.


and then,
i will blossom
one hundred eyes blinking at me from across the room
uncross my eyes
and tell me you were only kidding.

this feels like a memory
this feels like a fire
this feels like having to stop
so I can slam my eyes shut and cover my ears
against the screaming in my head.
this feels like a glancing touch to the arm
this is nothing but my own fault

i can recognize this.
and we can kiss
quietly in the hall

even though it isn't what i really want at all.

and me and fantastic mr. fox,
we'll walk
hand in hand
arm in arm
tooth and nail
he'll remind me that all of my metaphors come from fairy tales.
he'll overbalance because he lost his tail
and we'll laugh

because it's laugh or break down.

and you see it's coming back full circle
dust to dust to roses
young to archaic to new again
because it's really all i'm good at.

i remember,
this one time
when he said i reminded him of himself
i remember this one time when i could pretend things were ever simple.
i remember this one time when i taught myself to pretend.
back before i should have been pretending
back when my nights were spent sleepless but making no excuse
i could tell myself that i was just one more chapter away from sleep.

this feels like a eulogy
but it sings like a prayer.
in my head it's a prayer
and i can see it in the bottom of an empty circle
an empty cyllinder
all i have nowadays are my pen and myself.
my pen and my self
my-self.

Histrionic Lyrically Dependent Prepubescent Hack Band

i am trying too hard
i am trying too hard
i am trying too hard
i am trying too hard

to be what you need

(i'm trying too hard) to be what you need?
or i'm trying too hard (to be what you need)?
even i don't know where the emphasis falls anymore


watch me walk--i'll kill it, i'll kill it
my pseudo-intellectualism has abandoned your pretty words,
left me for your pretty mouth
filled my head with hard unrounding consonants and condolences

it's called a cliche for a reason
thank you for not talking. thank you for not talking back.
thank you for leaving me for dead.

my fingers tap, rub,
sssssmack against my thighs
in a pretty mockery of rhythm
goosebumps raise and remind me that you left me cold
or maybe that i can't ever quit you cold-turkey
a charlie brown scream (augh! augh!) tumbles through my lips
as you once again pull the football (or maybe the rug)
from where it should have connected


d a g b g b g d a g b g b g
d a g b g b g d a g b g b g
b f# e g e g e b f# e g e g e
eminor b e minor b
f# f# c # e
b f# e g e g e b f# e g e g e
d a g b g b g d a g b g b g
b f# e g e g e b f# e g e g e
d a g b g b g d a g b g b g
d a g b g b g d a g b g b g




you can sin or spend the night all alone. jesse lacey will always say it better.

now that was just a warm up
let's get warmed up
call me later because
i get so despondent without your voice
we both know that i know how it feels to
lose a chunk,
gain a chunk,
keep going unwhole
i know how this goes and
you will not trick me again
you have me trapped in my own logic
tied up and
too weak but still breathing
i've gotten stronger and
i know how to bite my lip against the sort of image you drag up
you asked too many questions and
asked for too many answers and
asked too much of me
trying to watch my reaction to use against me later
the way i bite my lip against you
and so i'm pulling my eyes shut to avoid seeing your face and
i'm drowning you out with this can of mace and
i'm forcing myself to see something i don't want to see,
can't bear to see
i already know
so why do you keep trying to tell me
I ALREADY KNOW
so why do you keep trying to tell me
i already know
and as much as the simple fact kills me
it isn't what's keeping me up at night
no i don't want your pity and
even though i know you're trying to help
even though i know you're helping
you're only keeping the wounds open and
the words out
too bad i already know the curve of your name
well enough to trace it in the dark


let me go for a few days
let me have a week to myself
let me have a week where i don't pick up the phone
when it's me avoiding you and
not the other way around
let me curl up on my bed
on top of the covers and
not eat
not sleep
let me just exist
just for a week
just until they prescribe
what they think i need
just enough to keep me going
just let me have a week
just call me all the time
so you can get angry when i don't pick up
just let me lock myself down
just for a week

you look at me and
ask how sexual i can get
but baby i must tell you
it's about the sweat
it's about time you
get caught in my net
in my web, and we're
losing our way to find our
heavy thumping bass line
i just want to teach you how to solo
i just want to hear you while you solo
now tell me what you want to hear
i'll have you moaning from ear to ear
see, baby, i can talk out of my ass, too
i can talk just as much shit about you

this is exactly what i'd like to do to you

stop me before i love you too much to keep from tearing you apart
please stop me

just a lie, i said, and watched you insist that that's all it was. just a lie, you stressed, and for once you didn't understand a single thing i was trying to tell you.


i'm repeating myself, at this point, but i'm making my point and i'm repeating everything you said out loud to my empty room.
i will write as if no one is reading this
and hope that it makes a difference.
ashes to ashes to all of us falling down
there are words and stanzas and i continue to drown
take your shoes and shine them
take diamonds and mine them
forever is too long,
especially when i'm just waiting for you to fall apart.
(do you get it?
do you?)
see i laid my fingers in the dish
cleaned them off
took a hot towel and wiped the mess around
we only drink soup from one side of the spoon
and my big canary yellow cobalt blue
ex-husband
ex-wife?
keeps clunking into the side of my bowl
please, excuse him
her?
she's so rude, talking over you like that
i'm like marie curie with the way i'm always trying to save everyone around me
and with this bread and water diet
i'll be passing out in no time
it's all the rage in paris.

kissing cousins versus killer queens versus kingdom come
vice versa
my biggest vice is your shortest verse
anything too long and i fall to shame
better make this quick

kiddie cavalry, contemporary classicist with contempt for cliches, kill clashing colors before babies buy your record and relive experinces they've never had. we've been had, we've been had. have you had enough, because i think having said what i said i've heard enough. enough is enough and a horse is a horse is a horse, of course, but a better bitter branch of breezy emotion I've never seen. Hope? is a lie. lie down so i can get those clashing colors colored corectly. you're in shades of gray and grey and green and it is making me sick. i am sick of this relationship. i am sick of you. let me go let me go let me borrow fifteen dollars so i can fly away. you intimidate me, inasmuch as i'm intimidated by your intimacy. me, queen of the bad touch, queen of the bad luck, queen of the sad as such, intimidated by nonesuch touch as my own. it's a bit much but it's better than having no pluck and i'm getting distracted. put my words on your websites and put me to bed before i swallow lead, before i lose my head, before i'm left for dead. the breezeway bucked me off and left me with a fistful of shattered ribs. they slit my wrists and, left by misfits in a crying fit, they cracked my knees so i could see that the concrete attatched to my feet was really there on accident, but that didn't change the fact that right now i'm at the bottom of the ocean and my last gasping breath is occuring through the gills of the fish they wormed into my open screaming mouth. let me out let me out let me out.

I am your sweet dying angel
I have revealed myself for what I am
I have proved myself yours
I have ensured that every day
is torture
for surrounding myself with you

I have done nothing but love you
it is tearing me apart



See, the only thing I feel I can rely on are the strings,
stringentandpure,
clean and hopeless
just like me.
Me, see, me, I am your Queen.
I am your tub of Vaseline
I am the words from the sentences you string
and the water from the rags you wring
I am nothing you thought to bring
I am the finger with the ring
I am the lie without the sting
and the hopes you fail to sing
My fingers are on the strings,
and angel your eyes were never this wide,
not even when I split you in two and left you for dead.


how dare you.

She looks in the mirror, says her own name until it sounds like nonsense, watches her face until she can't recognize herself, and then tears herself apart.

it would be cliched to suggest world peace
it would be a lie to suggest anything other than you

there's sand behind my ears and six different lies in my teeth
there's a bright yellow bruise on my leg the size of an egg
there's nothing anyone can point out to me that won't remind meof you
and oh god i am a liar

we snatch bodies
and remember
the lie
and
the liar
but never who we lied to.

i lie to everyone.
i hate this
but i would hate losing you more

please don't hang up on me. please don't send me to bed. please don't ever find this.

Good night, moon
bad night for the sun
i'm leaving you for the moon
moon or bust

i'm not going to call you out for something you haven't said
don't get too excited.
i cannot leave i will not tell i cannot leave i will not tell i cannot leave i will not tell i cannot eave i will not tell. i will not leave. i cannot tell.
it'll fuck your shit up.

"It's a conceptual thing," you said
this was around the time that I thought

"oh, shit."

don't leave me now.
don't leave me alone.
put up a fight when i get off the phone.


in whatever
call me later
we're each other
as good as lovers

i am the velveteen rabbit
i willed myself into existence
i created myself
i can destroy myself
i can do anything
i do not belong here
i do not belong anywhere

put me back in the toybox so i can breathe again.

railmai
railmai
railmai
railmai

the butterfly is spreading its wings
adjusting its glasses
fogging up the window

the bird has flown the coop

I am too weak for
the words that stutter and push
through my broken teeth.

you are a liar
but I'm only a painting
with a chipping smile

smile, my sweet true friend
now you have the upper hand
chipped nails tapping desks

spread your pretty hands
even when you're below me,
you come out on top.

i am too tired
uninspired
wired a liar
born under a bridge at the break of dawn
to a tempest that temporarily tempted me
out of sight, out of mind
you are always on my mind
but see you're lagging behind
i've got this new pair of shoes
and they can cross miles in seconds
i've got this scab on my forehead
from where i'm not good enough
i've got this apostrophe tucked in my back pocket
because sometimes i'm lazy
see, it's not what i believe
it's sensory overload
see, see, see
seas of seas of seeing seas
i am sick of the sea.

this will be so much easier if you let me cry
my only problem is that i never know what you're talking about.

there's a moon
and a sun
and i miss when they thought they were in love.
but the sun's falling out of the sky at an alarming rate,
spiraling down down down until she can't think straight for
the wind in her ears,
the clouds hitting her face
just
right,
making her believe that maybe she's crying.
the moon's unaware,
if the moon and the sun are who they are.
and they are.

i hit the train station at a quick pace,
but it obviously wasn't quick enough.
because now my shoes are on the ceiling
and i'm tied to the tracks by the only person i don't know.
funny how i always get myself
in these sticky situations.

i am both the spider and the web and the fly.
i am growing legs.
there are too few branches for me to hide under
too few spindles to touch
too few mysteries anymore.

this will be easier if you let me cry
this will be easier if you cry.

no, kyle, it's all a metaphor. donut worry.

this is how i get you to give up the ghost. this is how i know you've given up the ghost. there's a smile on my face and a dove in my hand, pretending that we've found peace. and this gash in the bottom of my face, the one i can call a smile, grows wider and wider. it does a good job of swallowing the messes i make. why so quiet? we both know how terrified you were when you saw me with my hands outstretched.we both know i'll beat you at your own game any day of the week. i can beat you at any game. do not try to run. do not try to hide. resistance is futile and we're each of us aware that you could never hide as well as i could find you.

this is the squirrel stash tucked in your sock drawer

watch me walk
always a step ahead versus running away
no,
i never know what you want
write it down, and
let me be your latest fascination
because you sound so young
and i feel so old
she blinks like a fawn
fawns
big eyes wide smiles
smiles at the mirror
at the sex he thinks he can exploit
He struggles with himself,
looking for a new reason to exist
and her--new her; take that how you like--
her french isn't as good as it used to be.
keep up!

are you lost yet?

now he--new he--sings at dawn

because if he can control the sky,

make it brighter by degrees, if he

feels like he has control over that,

then it almost eclipses how she's not in his nest anymore.

her karma's about as good

as the corner where she's standing.

the offers she's getting.

can't a girl get a Break?

not everyone's selling Sex.

she pulls her skirt down,

hopes it'll eventually cover her knees.

not missing any work

sweetness, we're falling asleep now.
are you coming to bed? are you coming--
so now we're in your window,
eyeing the cake your mother made
frosting flowers all across the top, and if
i could just get out--if you would let me out--
i would run across them,
make them as real as your smile.
while you hold the cause of the pills i haven't
been prescribed yet above my head.
straighten out your sheets, because no mother would approve of what we just did.
will you remember what we just did?
did you come to bed yet? did you come--
you've made your bed
now we're both going to sleep in it.
like the crow that hit your windw
and yours
and yours
and yours.
(tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...)
we're running away from one margin but only getting
closer to the next,
and i'm dotting my eyes and crossing my tees
so that you may do whatever you please.
don't tease
(and soon the lease
on our relationship will be up;

you can leave.)

que mes baisers soient les mots d'amour que je ne te dis pas.

you see, it shocked me into love
something like a thousand volts.

a year ago she could pick herself apart and destroy herself,
no problem,
and now all she's got is
a lie and a dusty box in the back of your closet.
leaves are tumbling down, down, down, across the river, and did you hear?
she can walk on water.
she hung the moon
and
the stars,
and still had the time that night to sleep.
did you hear?
well, she's YOUR daughter.
empty slaughter with a cherry on top that looks like an excuse.
see, she pulls off her kneecaps sometimes and digs down inside her legs so she can find the secrets she hid there.
check the news--check the weather--check yourself.
stop lying
start putting those talents of yours to use.
she's a high-class whore
and she doesn't want to grow up,
no sir.
she stole your death,
snapped out her tendons,
and pulled out her ribs to feel something real,
without experiencing any consequences.
the aching in your ankles is an empty allusion to an
older
pain.
take my reason,
make it treason.
(but you know you'll leave some
for the ones who want it.
wasn't it always that way?)
she only caters to what she wants;
she's not used to being alone.
she'll erase the words that you wrote first
and paint them across the walls she hates.
she only wants what she can't have.
she left you breathless once she found a way to steal it back.
she hates shoes.
she hates rain.
she hates herself.
she'll go out in style.

I picked my way through the wreckage and realized that you're beautiful, in a roundabout sort of way.
Sober you up--this is where I stand now.
You threw your lemonade in my face months ago and now I'm kissing your bruises all better.
Whambamthankyouma'am and I can['t] get over this myself.
For once, I'd like to defy ourselves instead of defining ourselves, but I know that's wholly unattainable.
I thought about perception,
and then I thought about me,
and then I thought about you.
[must be a Tuesday]
This isn't about who you'll think it's about.
My battery just died a little bit more and I want outoutout.
All I want to see is the insides of my eyelids.
And maybe I should hate you for this,
But maybe it doesn't really matter.
Heartsstarsandclovers and I'm fallingfalling.
Four and twenty blackbirds,and I'm flying again.
I hate everything you do to make me feel at ease.
The silence is deafening
And I'm once again expressed by a series of
Ones (1)
And Zeros (0)
010010001000010000010000001
And on and on and on.
All I want to do
Is kiss your fingertips
And make you feel okay.
The more you talk about it, the more in love I fall,
But that may be a misleading pronoun.
Never ask, never tell.
Hold off your bets now.

You opened your eyes—
And out fell the sky.
Straight into my lap. I was shocked.
It was hopeless and broken,
But endless.
I tried to count the stars,
But kept getting distracted.
By small things, you know?
Like the smattering
Of freckles
Across the bridge of your nose.
The shadows that
Danced
Down your cheeks
Each time you blinked.
The way you
Refused
To look at me
Until I wasn't looking at you;
Refused,
Unless I was
Staring
Out of the window,
Pretending to Glance
At the pharmacy across the way.
But really,
I was watching you,
Watching your reflection,
Watching you
watching me.
I could have cried.
"Are our eyes our own?"

Breathing quickens,
But the heart stills.
Tears spill.
Your thoughts, your words hold one thousand different meanings,
And each one leaves me stunned.
Leaves me shunned.
I’m shamed and ashamed.
Our rhythm, our voices, our cadence—
They leave no room for me.
Each time you smile, my heart breaks and melts and stops, all at once.
I don’t begrudge you anything.
You know all this already.
Watch as I smile through it all.
I’m so pathetic.
But a good liar.
Go for a walk.
Try not to sob.
Try not to sing too loudly.
Stop myself from calling you.
Convince myself it’s all okay.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Lather-rinse-repeat.
Lather rinse repeat.
Latherrinserepeat.
You get the point.
All I am is repetition.
Contradiction.
Research.Inspiration.
I’m getting off topic.
I could care less.
This is happy.
This is the face of happy, and I’ve never been more malicious in my sarcasm.
Every word that I bite back sidles down my throat.
Hot and venomous.
Le mort petit.
Except, really, it’s not.
Slugs. I’m swallowing hot, primordial swamp slugs.
I’ve never felt more in tune with myself.
I’m dying, slowly and painlessly.
It’s simultaneously the best and worst feeling in the world.
Hey, look, it’s every lie I told, every half-truth I believed.
All I need is my name on your lips, please.
Tell me what I want to hear?

I'm the tears, falling down your cheeks when you feel you need attention, the callouses on your fingers you think nothing of sloughing off.
What happened to pride in ones work?
I've made a habit out of waiting up for you.
It's not hard to fall back into an old pattern.
For a while this was all I knew.
I'm well-learned and scholarly in the art of pining after you.
It's like riding a bike.
Who am I, you ask?
I don't even know anymore.
Ask me later.
I forget.
This frustration with myself can only wear so thin before the fabric rips altogether.
My proverbial clothes are falling apart from the acidic self-loathing I keep so close to my heart.
I could never stay mad at you.

I'm shakingshaking, wound and wired.
My heart is heavy and feet are tired.
Home, home, home again. I miss the world, I miss my friends.
Shackles, prison, ball and chain. Bars on windows and your name.
Save me, save me, dear desire. Deadline's here, down to the wire.
Change is needed, change is good. I'm wanting you more than I should.
Charts all tell me all my wages. Pretty lines on pretty pages.
I'm suffocating on myself, and all this amounts to is how much I need you.
I don't know. I'm pretty much incoherent, but aren't I always?

I opened my eyes to the sky that you saw
(damned devotchka)--
the words that we wrote as a team;
our dream,
as useless as it was.

There was fire in your mouth,
rhymed poison, I found.
You told me aboutan emptiness,
your shout,
your weariness,
clearing my mind
and snatching my piety.

There are words that you penned with your fears.
There are words that you said calmly with a sneer.
There are words I would never, ever dare to
say
out
loud.

I am synonymous with destructive, and it's more than you've ever wished you could be.

Yes.

No.

Romanticism at its finest.

I'm posting far too much today.

I woke up, up, up, and fell.

Down.

Backwards.

Into you.

Into myself.

(Fuck, I don't even know who I'm talking about anymore.)

Soft curves sharp angles the outlines of your words, your shadow,

All biting into me.
I am your worst nightmare, and honey you've never seen me this vicious.

My metaphors are improving and I'm swiping my card one more time.

Signing my name.

Pushing buttons.

Yes.

No.

Conceit at its very worst.

I am getting much better at this.

Inches, feet, miles,

But somehow every sentence is still starting with I.

My priorities are shifting,

By inches,

feet,

miles.

My [inches]feet[miles] are bare and the sun is back on my neck.

I pushed you intounderaround my skin and now I think I'm okay.

And it's another notch in your bedpost, babe, but I'm just getting started.

I'm paperclipping my thoughts together for easy access and this is what comes from trying to get organized.

It's crawling up and down my arms,

And Elanor Rigby is just another face.

Flames lick up and it's surprising how much I don't mind.

I'm changing.

Reworking myself.

Please pardon the construction.

This is only for the attention.

Every coccoon is torture for each unlucky little catterpillar.

Maybe it's the alienation?

I don't know.

Yes.

No.

And again I'm adding myself up, but I don't think I'm enough anymore.

The sum of our parts and all of that.

Your intentions are always so much clearer with my corrective lenses.

Insert witty turn of phrase here.

You're not winning any fucking trophies, but then again neither am I.

You're bad and I'm worse and my skin is tainted with it.

The eyeliner's trying to hide what's just fine.

And it's running because you can't see past yourself.

Grow a brain, darling.

We all have to get over ourselves sometime.

But I'm a masochist and I think I'm going to stay inside my preprogrammed torture device just a bit longer.

Being trapped in yourself isn't so great.

But it's better than being wrapped up in everyone else's silk thread.

When I grow up, I want to be a jacket made in China.

Homegrown and adored for what I can do.'

Appreciated for my talents,even if they are only instinct.

Rapunzel never had it this good.

The spinach, not the girl, and things in fairytales always come in threes.

Three hearts, three kisses, three breaking points.

It's easier if I think about it that way.

Let's all beat at the same time and become a better lifesaving device than any defibrillator could hope to be.]

1. 2.I'm not trying to woo you.

3. 4. Not anymore.

Yes.

No.

And I'm back to simple rhymes.

See you on the other side?

(Yes?

No.)

and it's all just physics,

so why don't we fix this?
Let's steal some lines and break some hearts, babe.
Tripping over/on my words.
Puck would be proud.
Left right yes no stop.
Tilt you throat and slant your words.
Bring that bias by us, love.
Our itinerary today is right in her airwaves.
The lines of your neck crawling up and down my skin,
like goosebumps.
Like vowels and consonants and everything in between.
Aren't we all in between?
The roses that rose up to rope up your petty thought process.
Fallingfallingfalling.
Falling forever, and I'm getting awfully bored.

stringtogetherrandomwordsinthehopesthati'llmakemoresensetomyself

"Of all the gin joints in the world,

"she had to walk into mine."

I am a corporate whore, and sweetie things have never been this good.
I am standing on my head for this, but all I can bring myself to do is push him away.
Mary, Mary, quite Contrary,
How does your garden grow grow grow grow?
With metaphors and similies and poorly masked allusions to myself.

I woke up at dawn today.
Wake up! cried the sun, and wake up I did.
The light that fights what should be the night.

You always look your best when I'm on my knees.
Apologyapologyapology.
It's almost comical how that word doesn't mean anything anymore.
Things to remember things to destroy things to never, ever forget.
All I do these days is destroy and try to forget.
Generally, I stepped up, and specifically, you were just this much bigger than me.
My fingers are breaking and I need a break and I need a splint.
I need you like I need a hole in my head.
tahtrofetalootspoo
I need another sunrisechancesurprisedance.
I'm about to be blown out of the water.
Give me something to not talk about, babe.

So here we are.
and it's live/die/live, but this empire I've created can only last so long.
Close my eyes when it crumbles
I cannot escape this
Wreckage of my carefully constructed walls.
Thank you for reminding me that there was something beating inside that was
Something
Close
To
A
heart.
And thank you for reminding me what it feels like to fall.
Battering tiny fists on tinnier voices
Your constant presence is a brick through my ever-effervescent window.
You took away my common sense
[cents? And to every penny saved is it plausible that I earn you back?]
Forget-me-nots and let-me-downs and want-so-cripplings
I hate you for the easy way you roll off my tongue
Nothing should ever be that simple.

He said, "Speak now, or forever hold you peace..."
And I got up and left.
Rash thoughts and irrational actions, but I'd rather hold my peace and my tongue than this persistently pumping ventricle out for you to sacrifice
Your myocardial infarction left me breathless.
Eviscerate me, baby. Give me a taste of what you're made of [[or at least an ingredient label]].
Empty casket pills rattle and taunt and keep me awake at night but they are liars.
I know exactly what I want and it is tearing me apart.
Three cheers to us and to this ticking time bomb.
It will surely take us down and drive me sane.

tradgedy of tradgedies
it touched your porcelain skin
your name is somewhere close to home
i break your back again

pick your mouth off my floor
regardless of what ive probably told you
you really can't eat off it

I am making a model of my human skeleton
[[axial, appendicular osteology]]
Camera's rolling.
Let's see if you can keep up.
This is my biggest chance to show you off.


iknowiknowiknowanditiskillingme


I am much better for you than she could ever be.
I will never tell you this.
I am too nice for my own good.
I wish I was not afraid.

i am quiet and hopeless and unrefined as

[[and quietly hoping that i will find...]]

the small smile that plays across your lips

as you

stare across the room.

there is a light at the end of this tunnel and i shouldn't be heading towards it, really, but it's the one thing i do best.

following everyone else's lights.

lights and flights and kites

taking bites from my slightly overcast heights.

and i moved faster than that city

one thousand little grins that all reminded me ofyoumaybe

i've given not a thought to rotting

and this is so contrived but it's the only way i make sense anymore.

the light is flashing and telling me how wrong i am

i have no time leftswept bereft and deft

down your wire tired and inspired and electric.

a scheme is a plot is a plan

is another useless attempt to twist your actions to suit my twisted mind

full speed ahead to keep myself from wanting you

i am mercurial.i am erosive and silent and silver

i reflect and damage and destroy everything i touch

and i build myself up with these portraits of what uses me best.

i am poisonous.

i cannot create--only destroy.

Blink.

Blink.

and you are awake and unanesthesized

as i show you exactly what i am made of.

Blink.

and i am slipping down your window, my hand slipping to your waist,

glass on glass on glass.

just another raindrop running your formerly flawless facade

sprawling cities and unwarranted goosebumps

write these words on your scarlet letter sky

curve them but they aren't nearly as graceless and open as your eyes.

i am small and out of place

i am soaring and for once not held down by my shadow

i am stagnated and i am pinned by every shallow gulp of air that i take into my pathetic lungs.

i am using all i statements.

i am crawling up the waterspout

i will perservere.

i'm taking back my small conceits
with which you built your house
those quiet eyes scream couplets at
my deaf unspeaking fingers

pick a dying daisy and
block out a dying sun
flaws duly noted and pushed
to the back of your mind

pretension is an easy
word to throw around
you have it mastered

like oedipus and his eyes
we have been separated
from our foolish selves

I am the initiative that tipped you over
I am the bursting vein in your throat and the creeping metallic taste on your tongue.
Exhausted and swollen,
shining and broken.
Trim the thicket of thorns around your ring finger.
It keeps your hand from the strings.
Leaves and glances furtively fall forwards.
Take counterclocwise baby-steps--there's only one left.

The lights and nights are as fake/bright
As the bite-sized breaths you take/fight.

runrunrun
[[THERE IS NO END IN SIGHT]]
I don't know which is worse, that it was there,
or that I never stood a chance.
'Please let me know,' but I never knew.
You only get one but some people never get it at all.

Wiggle my toes and dip them in and I'm gasping for air around your poor sweet suffocation.
There wil be no riding off into the sunset.
There will be no sunset.
[[THERE IS NO END IN SIGHT]]
I kick idly at the ground.
[[you're ohsodifficult sometimes all bated breath and twitching hands]]

This is not a universe with infinite possibilities.
We swim until we can't.
We run until the searing pain in our sides gets to be
just. too. strong.
And even the universe has a timer.

Forever is a very long time.
[[THERE IS NO END IN SIGHT]]
I'll show you what it really is.
That's not nearly as threatening as it should sound.
I bet you never looked at it that way
And every time I see him I taste poison
[[THERE IS NO END IN SIGHT]]
She screamed,
'Who am I,'
And I couldn't tell her a damned thing.

We worship warships
And remember embers.

I found the cure and no one cares--it's just another thing to sell.

I am so far gone that I'm eating my own dust. I am withering and reaping what I sow. I am NOT what I told you I am. I am the biggest and worst liar out there.

My baby's four neighborhoods over and I can't be bothered to leave the comfort of my bed.

Every time I look for you the sun goes down (also see: the difference between hate and really really really not liking someone.)

I stand on your porch and blink out the sun. I never was the best at clearing my head, but selective amnesia's becoming easier and easier.

But hear you me--you had lipstick on your teeth and your thighs around my waist.

Also see: kitchen counters.

Also see: only not hurting the people who don't matter.

Also see: enjoying this too much for your own good.
The only factor that taints it is your own poor attitude, and honey you had never seen a worse one until you met me.

I used to make my parents proud.

Spilled your fingernail polish, sang louder than I've ever heard you, and polished off my heart. Are you full yet?

No matter how many snide remarks you make, you've still got a bit of ventricle stuck in your canines. You've done something with it, I see. Braiding my vocal cords together and wrapping them around your ring finger wasn't exactly what I had mind, but it's creative and done skillfully enough. Your picket-fence ideals have impaled my last shattered breath and I'm broken.

Also see: propoganda and thought control 101.

Also see: hangnails galore.

Also see: how I can't get what I need but the things that I think I want come at me like shrapnel, and I know I shouldn't be comparing one small misery to the next, much greater one, but I can't take my own advice.

Scraped my knees on your linoleum floor, swallowed your porcelain tongue, and cut open my esophagus. It's gory but the goosebumps are indicative of how little I think of you and your eyes and your smile and every. single. word. that punches out from behind your perfect teeth.

The poet in me is screaming for justice but poetic license says

I scream the words I want

and he doesn't have to be satisfied. I have known you in every life I've lived.
By your shaking ankles, I KNOW she has murdered me. (murder me, murder me)

We rise to defend ourselves just as quickly as the hairs at the nape of my neck raise to meet what they're sure will destroy them.

I have a ringing in my head and no one to help me answer it. (Gotta love how it's somehow all on me.)

It's so difficult to be what you deserve but this is all really only another excuse.

Sometimes I wish I knew what I wanted before it was too late.

Also see:apathy vs. empathy.

Also see:copernicus and galileo and eveyrone else who couldn't give themselves a break.

Also see:total destruction of the soles through the reconstructon of the soul.

You make it so hard to say what I need to.
bottling lightning to keep me in check
i hope you know i'm talentless and broken and airing all my dirty laundry for you
you shock me into raising my sleeves/defenses
it's not what i want or need but it's what i've got and it's got potential and i've got to work with it.

and even if it's really not

no matter what i tell you i am still a mess
broken hearts in empty places
stolen lives on public faces
pictures on a private forum with a dashing gash of red and two bright green husks
chipped-away fingernails tell you everything you need to know
mayday, mayday the flare's gone off
the bow hit the highest c i've ever heard when it finally
finally

cracked.
no one recognized the signal.
the hollow nervous sound of the fireworks.
mayday, mayday
my fingers are cracking open like the lobster you had for lunch the other day.
dead and coated
i laugh in its face
in the face of it
at the very fine line i'm trying oh so hard to walk.
sorry officer but i'm incapable of walking straight.
lock me up.
i'm incapable of dealing with myself.
it's better if i don't.
keep me away from society.
i'm incapable and i fall far too short for this.
i don't have the time.
it's pretty much physically impossible for me not to love you.
i'm a horrible liar, but i'm doing pretty well so far.
i fail.

I blink, but all the streetsigns say your name and the streetlamps are your eyes.
I smell [where there's smoke there's] fire and I taste home--tastes like you
The dock looms in front of me and catcalls "Do something stupid."
Screams, "Why are't you here yet?"

Callow cowards crown queens.
There's a fire in our grotto, even if you've forgotten.
I've never seen a signal as bright as yours
Something old--something new--something borrowed--something blue.
Rang in the new year in the form of drinks spilled on blouses and newly bought houses.
I'm crossing my fingers and holding my breath.

I have no pride; I have forgotten to make myself work.
Thursday never lived up to the freckles above your eyebrow, but I'm stilll going going gone
The lights are so pretty but all it is is another star exploding.

The trap door broke and dumped me onto her
I can't find the lightswitch but i know where i should be
I clutch the windowsill (ones and zeros) and wish for a knight in shining armor or someone to make a scene (but maybe I'm really wishing for...)
I'm a cowboy and an indian,
you're a cop and a robber,
and it's our mission to destroy ourselves.
How do you feel about destroying ourselves together?
Pictograph in pink and green (pink for your insides and green for your envy)
I snap another clever cut as you try to feign indifference, because you notice but you never risk a cmnt.
You're six to my half-dozen.
Four to one the diamond to my rough and I hate that I can't stop this.
Where 'this' clearly means 'belonging to you'.

Good morning Apple Blossom Almond Doll.
Your marzipan fingers have been chewed and skewed and elected king.
Sing me something out of key before i'm left in the dark.
I can only focus on my faults.

going to the doctor because my mouth's flourescent green

(or:: a mathematical equation in two parts, where you+me=everything, but only if you get our coefficients right.)
It's our everyday experiment and you and I are the only constants, even when all you do is ch-ch-ch-change.
We're dancing to the beat of the same drummer as everyone else, but it's the closest to escaping when my heart's pounding in my ears.
[tell YOU tell ME tell HER, a complete percussion set of yes and no, of youlovemeyoulovemenotnotnot]
An identity crisis of high prices with high shine.
Couplets of wrist bindings and revenge.
I am a daydreamer of the highest order. (have I gotten sick recently, Doctor? No, of course not. Only worse.)

She shouts in perfect steady harmony, the bassline to my drums. We are the entire rhythm section of your old middle school's jazz band, her voice and my heart.
She makes me want to throw a mug of steaming-hot tea at the side of a brick building and savor the sound as it crashes.
She is a fiberglass splinter, the kind you get from taking out memories.She finds ways to cut like glass down my iron-coated throat.
She finds pills in strange places and she finds the time to down them all.She believes in time, but not in feelings.
She believes in me, but not herself.
She is the whorl of sickly color making its way across your cheekbone, just under your left eye.
She is the whirl of leaves across the pavement, late, late in fall.
She is stubborn and incohesive and nonsensical, and she will make herself work if it's the last thing she does, goddammit.
She is a car crash (hope I don't get whiplash) and a bouquet of flowers (hope I don't go into anaphylactic shock) and an asprin (hope I don't OD) and she is far too expensive for me.

I'm checking my ingredient list twice.
Let's see what I can do.

les autres filles qui dit avec celui, elles ne voulent dire pas cela qu'elles disent.
je ne suis pas celui pour toi. tu n'appercevois pas moi. je ne suis pas que tu as pensé.
ils ont pas idée;
et comme chaque chanson tu es moins ma fille.
il y a une grande quantité que tu ne sais pas.
a-y-t'il que tu n'as pas perdu?


c'est n'est pas poésie. c'est une prière. ne fait pas cette erreur.

And here's the thing:
I've been learning how to juggle
and I love the rush of it
I love learning
where the ball is gonna be.
I love not knowing.
I love that it's not a sure thing,
and I love that
it makes my gut
swoop, gonna vomit, not gonna catch it
rollercoaster safe in my room.