Tom Waited

[OLD]

The sky above the trees.
I'm peeking, remembering to breathe.
Ladykiller left just in time.
I want the words I write
about you
to be disgusting.


I won't care.
Keep me occupied,
so I don't need to care.
Waking, making plans
every moment best spent
together.
Contain my interest.
Sick of dry throats
making me feel nobody
can love me again.
They haven't yet.

Of Mouth

Fishing, minds set to
phrase.
It was always about the words.
Praising phases:
flawed even when free.
(My apologies Jenny)
Love questions
are rhetorical given the facts.

Pen Pricks

Finding out too late some tallies never fade.
And oh so suddenly,
it’s all about me.
And just maybe, lately,
you’re the reason my
eyelids aren’t clumsy.
Are we at repressed
confessions yet?
Oh, I’ll bite my tongue then,
apologize for premature
idealization.
I stumbled in, lumbering
heavy conscience in tow.
But I’ll exit ever so lightly,
empty after everything.
Ian had it right the whole time,
eight says it all.

The Avenger

Interest piqued, since declined
but stockpiling rejections seem to define
every word my empty lungs
find, breathe, or mutter
and among my mind’s clutter
rejection is just another four letter word.
Now I see that you’ve been
leaving your name at the door
since day one.

Never Have I Ever

sleeves rolled up
only question:
puddle or pool.
I’m collecting; collected.
Not the right sentiment at all.

Craig's List

Stiff drink,
you made me at numb.
I thought I loved you.
Missed connections.

Woe

Bite tongue tightly, unnecessary
but polite. She knows.
Seating arrangements
not close enough for comfort.
One kiss captured, stored
for future recollection
and hopeful repetition.
After professions of
damn near obsession
came the solitary six.
Isolation, cut outs.
Same page, different books
no longer known territory.
Always left to wonder.
Fear in numbers, or
in this case a single letter.
Post script attempt,
proved moot at best.
I’m glad you aren’t as perceptive
as you seem to think, or at least
polite enough to spare me.
You know.

Shilly-Shally

Her forearms, half extended,
lying again.
Blatant indifference creaked
through her thighs to her tendon
toes. Pointed.

Weak.

Think in sevens.
Clearly, levels intact.
7:
Thou Shall Pass
(the salt).
Dropping anchors,
our eyes met
through the
memory shelves
collective disarray
of lost plurals.
Weak.

Elegance

(Read into this:

synonym.)


Blazes from bridges.
Oh, burn baby burn.
Hope this is
more than just sacrilegious.
Breathing fumes
full gasps; gulping
bitter soot
never tasted so sweet.
A send off not worth
shit.
Where the fuck is north?
Glad we can finally agree.
Unsettled scores
out of the peripheral.
Who cares?

Shun

Pathways like lines,
ours yet to intersect.
A question.
Oh it seems our
parallel conclusions
exclude any inclusion
of future participle
provisions.
Cut short.

Stainless

Frames like, drifting,
barely brushing outlines.
Tunnel, maybe bridge.
Regardless,
past tense trusts.
Hold taut.

Mark It Up

Sliding up my sleeves, but
no avail when knee deep
in practicality.
Sinking my teeth into
hips and
critical arbitrary contradictions.
Oh, she already knows.
< myself >
I’m just weak; I’m ready.
Succumb to any and every escape:
need-based offender.
< /myself >
Oh, but the categories
fit so perfectly.
I played my part to the:
The Vile Little Monster,
little violin in hand.
< important >
Shoulder shrugs.
< /important >

cockney thug

cotton mouth words spilling
cotton ball verbs and she
tastes like consistency:
pulls me like her wagon shadow.
and i’ll bare in mind
gum line lies
but this time i swear,
i’m dragging my feet.
deceiver deceiver!

Coquette

I’ve spun.
Sat through storms
and treachered all weathers,
but whirlwinds in my head?
Gusting gales have my sight all fuzzy;
but make no mistake, I’ve my sights set steady.
Though flustered is this courage mustered.
Head set sails to cloud high inclinations
and each indication set,
met perfectly by distinct anticipation.
But this damned preoccupation,
atmospheric hesitations.
She gives me butterflies
from here to the end of any sky.

Sodapop

Something like anatomy,
leaves me strung up
heels over head and
blood rushes down
to think thinks
and I’m doing all this for me.
How did my knees get so weak?
Trial and failure turned
drunken and valor.
She’s rattling my ribs and
my heart just won’t quit.
I think curiosity got it
best of all;
pilfering every breath
I could even dream.
My Little Miss Curtis,
just believe me.
I think in reds and blues and
multiples of two and
I don’t know what it means.
But it’s always you.

Dionysus

Damage control.
Amidst power struggle
tug of war deliberations
Artemis and Ares
are picking sides and
drawing lines and
it doesn’t look like
Eros will be hard to heed.
Oh, those Zorbas
and their dramatics;
waging wars over
beyond bronzed comestibles.

Lovers by Proxy

And the sirens came and collected sound.

Left with desolate time and maybe a feeling

that yesterday was all we had

to look forward to.

She said don't let go

after she hit the ground.

Separate the skips from the kicks,

feel the difference between right and wrong.

She's shaking spoons for reactions.

But she's got nothing to worry about

because they took that too.

Lovers by proxy.

Sir, End Her

Sends white flags down my spine

while timing how long it took

to reach full mast.

Looks like I've got time to kill.

My internal clock's got

dynamite for hands.

Ticking no's instead of seconds.

Animalistic satisfactions.

Inclement intentions.

(Of Choice)

Complicated Cocktail:

2 parts memory

1 part empty time

3 parts dots to connect

1 part paper trail

Capital P

River City style revival

getting things off my chest.

Ink plots point toward

developmental delays,

hitch-hiking.

Stable Eighty.

(Formerly: drinks on the job.)

Perpetually at a loss for words.

Generic

Riding bedpost carousals like waves

I can tell I still make her

wish she could surf.

Hesitates to anticipate

my next move.

Stings like only a true friend could.

She knows me too well.

Loveless Marriage

Radio preset #2:
headache and
admiration for
steady hearts,
like you never blinked.
Lets be practical, for once.

Eye Level

Pool my
calm and collected
future tense lullabies,
oh I’ve got
fables that would make
even Aesop’s stomach turn.

Sweet smiles for lessons
yet to be learned.

Finding secrets in trees,
it’s almost like I had a
childhood.
Impish grin and I’m
flicking quarters at problems.
Steer clear, I warn.

I’ve got bones to pick from;
closets impending resolution.

Bear Country

Guns blazing, paired with
Lone Star state of mind.
Got a knack for
making anything
a life or death situation.
Gimme some of that
Western drama, mid twist.

Shipwreck

back-to-back.
We were lying in the same bed.
Sheep jumping
ship instead of fences.
I counted twice;
you were too close
to rhyming for comfort.

Neutralizer

Made me like the taste of
ruining a good thing;
the best thing in a while
at least.
Kissing clocks with
running hands,
already raced through
hair and heartbeats.
Leave nothing but maybes
and questions of time zones.
Yeah, I like the taste of
forgetting consequences
when its on her lips.

Great Expectationz

I’ve got limits like skies,
black clouds around my knees.
Oh and I’ve got pretty little
overanalyzed soundboards.
Picking pasts.
Mouth tastes like
maybe it shouldn’t.
Spitting out again,
my indecisive teeth.

Psychosis

Trickle through a capillary,
brought my own vessel.
Cardiac havoc,
where have you been?
She’s riding painted on
high horses.
Puckered too high.
Out of season strawberry
standards, kisses.

Ace of Spades

We’ve fallen on hard times my friend.
But as our fathers would say,
fuck it. I’ll drink to that.
So rally around feeling floating
to God knows where.
Lets unravel on each other.
I think I was better off left unsaid,
but hey, I’ll drink to that.
And to you. And to anybody in the room
who ever thought they had something not to say.
Or someone not to say it to.
By this time tomorrow it’ll all be left on the table;
rings and promises.

3 New Messages

deconstructed thoughts,
rhythms in my head.
slipping through the cracks
of gravity. dragging me to you.
i’ll always be the one
asking permission to breathe

migration.

Unsteady stepping stone

obstructing path with tangible

impossibility I wish was mine.

Blood won't clot when she's around.

Clear the road of questionable intention

and what was left was seasonal, I suppose,

a bit too weathered to trek.

And I understand.

Branches broke in previous tempests

and maybe maps forgot

to mark my wreckage.

I understand.

Adultery

Catharsis, finally tangible.

Goodbyes suited for royalty

swing and sway and eventually

break away.

Off with her head.

I have to use my church mouth.

Control

She hesitates like shockwaves
hitting my spine, spreading to
zealous hips.
She hesitates, and I know I should too.
Breath like poetry.

Commission

Her use of colour danced
childlike thoughts across
my bedroom floor.
Don’t sing songs for birds,
she said,
they’re never quite grateful.
But when squids and monsters
plea for praise, hand it out
vigilantly. For they can
get complacent too.
And they do.
Left my corruptibility
fresh in her freezer
just in case she decided to
mummify my innocence,
treat beds like camp outs.

PriceCheck

Brushing shoulders with
saltless wonders. Feel
free to search for collective
disconnect, but good luck
with this daylight.
Mirrors know I’m wrong for you.
Coattails, tag all that matters.

Epiphany

We’ll be in love again,
payday is coming soon.
Bouncing checks like the
bouncing lies off her lips
or the bouncing other boys
off of her hips.
Hush hush.
I never even knew.

Now

Love in

skips and dimes.

Records ring

affection.

Belting refrains.

Lazybones

I guess her spider lips
finally caught up to her,
spinning whatever it took to
catch a falling star or
keep a fleeting high.
I didn’t collapse into either
web or category
so I slipped past her
mesh maze meant to catch such
a straggler.

Morals

Drank my syllables like moonlight,
basking in cloud glory.
Pre-existing opinions didn’t override
her overwhelming urge to
forget about God tonight.
Innocence in full swing as
only cheeks collided.
Virtuous breath.

Cosset

Matching butterfly bruises:
she called it love.
HipBones had been called
many things, but
this was a first.

Morgan

Skipping just right to
crack father’s back
in all the hard to reach
places.
Before noon on a Wednesday
and he’s a captain already.
Dirty finger nails and
a clean coffee filter.

DropBox

The girls can hear us,
thoughts and all.
Fingers hushing lips
puckered ready to fire.
Not easily offended,
but easily dislocated.
Time limits. Take the joke.
Shooting stars at
Tito’s ego, always enflamed.
Automatic love songs
followed, on repeat.
Stop these customary conversions,
he left involuntarily.

Mixtape

I.

Cross-legged, like a child

I listened.

Words filled me like wonder.

Carefully capturing every possible

underlying meaning to phrases

not written for me.

I think the first song said it best;

you haven't found them yet.

Everything that followed

only echoed letdowns,

alluding stepping stone status.

II.

Track four.

Way to ruin one of my favourite songs.

And almost John Mayer too.

III.

It should have ended

before it even started.

We'll never be each other's

Butch Walker.

Take your own tomorrow.

Sea-Saw

Ocean ballrooms.

Member's Only

waltz the way

Poseidon says.

(Sorry Simon)

Clover

Black cat lover has

eyes like traffic lights.

Misreading greens.

Trial Separation

Reminded me of

shared mortality

in our stipulations.

Funny to think

love was never

formally mentioned.

Language reeking

of something implied,

unspecified,

as of now negated.

Still it seeps between

affidavit prattle.

Pegasus

As a weapon, my voice

sang the rescue.

Ask the Lizard about

musical limbs and wait.

Wait.

In memory of trees,

my voice is a weapon.

Oh, Maiden of the Sea,

if what you need are

tattoos and books of

lost things, the latest plan

requires sober kings and

law-biding queens.

Bloodshot eyes.

Eryn's all grown up.

Dutch Feast

If I were flesh, I would have twenty:

a crown for you merely good 'til morning.

Shoulder bones, rib cage boundaries

only meant for me.

Seemingly different, captivating.

Living the worst because

it's scarcely short anyway.

I'm serious in my frivolous heroism;

if I was meant to save you

what choice do I have?

Sing it like "yeah."

We both know the end before I write it.

Chords. Chorus. Verse. Bridge.

Is the wait worthwhile, or

do these coffee cups pile

during a search for meaning?

Order change. Maybe no verse.

Purely Chorus.

Hammer home points of no return.

Barefoot memories dance in sand,

disregarding the foreshadowed rocks.

And quilted skies bode no response.

I should have known at seventeen,

but it took me twenty.

My shadow tried to warn me.

Proclivity

Skyscrapers.

I wish I towered too,

ocean views.

Even just elevation

would increase my

lacking stature.

But not to see

the sights she sets.

I know her propensity.

Board the windows.

No key.

Lazy Lids

Wonder, but never

full. She told me

my soul was half empty.

Maybe like a shoe

should be. I never listen

but blinking in sync

gets tiresome every

third round. I think

she caught me, but

I never really think

anyway. What would

you do with your

slipping lids?

Pack Leader

Her toe curled thoughts
left whipped cream trails for
my huddled half mind
to reconsider.

Last Stand

Posture junkie:
see things the way they’re
meant to be heard.
Think out loud to
crack a window;
and accordingly heads hung
for eyes to seal fates, float
the password to Wind.
Discretionitory sensory deficiencies,
or maybe we just held our
collective breath in mind.

Bones

Feel it in my

headphone bones.

White like teeth.

LED stars

heal everything but

walls and laws.

Clipboard motives.

NY

High heel dreams dance her nights away
leaving her tired as we wake to waltzes,
boast our faults.

11:11

Words on fingertips
reach out, vowels craving
connections.
Our hearts are
stuck on consonants.

The Fraud (Anything)

I’m stilling fighting.
This time with myself instead of
for your guarded heart and chain link mind.
I wish it was real.
I wish I could send this way I feel away,
not have every thought echo in my head.
What if we were all that mattered?
Sometimes I would let my words settle
to sift through later,
and they were all that mattered because
when it came down to it we were all talk.
And even so, I wanted to be perfect for you.
I wish you didn’t still haunt my stars at night,
or maybe that I haunted yours.
Nobody said it would be easy, but
it’s supposed to be worth the war
and I fought damn hard just to end up
back where I started,
when all the while we could have been in love.

Strides

The blue birds would rather

sing the greens, and not for me.

Sometimes each note is a poem

escaping the depths of secrets

they swore they'd keep from me.

Vulgar vultures.

I'm sure they're catching wind of my

mind's complicated extrapolation,

but I've heard they're harmless anyway.

Aren't we something like natural enemies?

The Internet

I'm singing in my sleep again.

Dropping dead while I'm

dropping jaws, my audience

just isn't static enough to

hang around my neck.

Do I have a reputation yet?

I can only keep your heart

beating til my throat gives out.

It must be close to

a thousand years now,

and I found trouble first.

Where'd you leave the getaway car?

All this living in sin

is getting to my head.

VeggieTales

You’re hard
like apple cores,
I don’t want to
figure out just how far
this can go.
No one likes the seeds

Seasonal Offender

Wicked smiles decapitating the little

dancing fingertips left in the cold.

No lessons are learned when winter coats

are clever. Singing along with the wind

something finally sinks. All the windows

were kicked in and back out. Sign language.

Get the party off the mantelpiece,

how unspecific. It must be love.

Fame

You're only a four letter word.

I dropped a hint for our audience

seemingly off-hand so you wouldn't notice.

Empty pockets can't buy your heart, and

the well's a little on the shallow side these days.

Do you remember when I told you

I would never lie? How ironic right.

Having chased down your shadow,

I see it was you all along.

Oh boy, where do I start?

My weatherman's a fascist.

Leitmotif

Marching as the drummer
of our recklessly assembled fairy tale,
I'm off half a beat.
My charisma let it pass,
though Peter doesn't seem too fond
of this calling card percussionist
I've become.
I'm switching to the French Horn,
in too much of a hurry to chew.
But boys like him are not afraid
of stomach aches.
If you listen closely you can hear
my oboe abdomen blues.

Uncles

Calling our names backward and

leaving nothing to the imagination

digital eyes pry past our insides

stealing your breath in the process.

Why did you ask why I ask

so many questions

if you were just going to dance

on my answers like feedback?

Spitting tongues at those red eyes.

We'll blink like we have a purpose tonight,

no dreams for analog deceptions.

Half Full

Blessed my lips with something like scandal

as I explored what was left of her human vessel.

She was plenty empty but her implicit objectives

were too good to abscond to probability, or Canada.

Left me feeling a specter; what a dark assignment

she turned out to be. My nubile apprentice,

I just wanted to see your insides

maybe fill them a quarter or so.

Combustible

Damaged goods,

never taking it easy

on his readers.

Slipping hints of

discontent through language;

still searching for that

first time high.

If nothing else, he's

proof of blackened wombs

and malignancy.

Oedipus

Trenching through knee deep personality
praying for quicksand, I know
tastes like plastic wafer skin
are meant for my palette.
Falling victim to strawberries
blowing kisses at no one in particular,
St.Confession left me wanting more
at the bottom of the hotel pool
where we learned to leave
the most beautiful things.
Bodies blush, all over.
We aren't dead yet;
give us time to blacken our thoughts.
Oh, just confess Oedipus.

Younger Eyes

Slicked lenses,

we didn't know better than

vaseline love.

She even bores my camera.

Chasing spiders around

drain spun webs.

Collect debris from

a timeline orbit,

pretty pages.

Remember your number.

Choose Your Own Adventure

It's hard when you know what could be.

And when does potential love

lose its beginning anyway?

Waiting for words to be forgotten

I'm sticking around with two feet

half off the ground and

a door ready to close.

You're a genuine inquiry to me,

tempo dragging a little.

Maybe it's up to me to cut

this two/four bullshit

and hike it up a notch.

Or eight.

My thoughts are always illegible.

Secular Love

Onset.

Counting back to get up

higher than my single mind allows.

Give me speed and strength

I can do this alone,

but enlist the help of thirty others.

Little help they may be,

but fallen in love

has my stomach.

Georgie

My sweet sea serpent,

tied to the rain

sinking in the sky

you leave me

wanting more mountains to climb.

Lucky

Non-threatening tip of tongue speech

she had me at "compromised,"

cracking sidewalks to

break the luck of strangers.

(Backs too.)

Strategically placing

her ladders in the clouds.

Watch your step,

she's got you too.

Black cat alibis left me

wishing I was still tongue tied,

unbreaking mirrors.

Revolving

Put feet down and

through the screen.

Stuck with glass doors

and storm windows

we'll let the seasons adjust.

Expect six inches,

enough to flood and float

our now jumbled

human condition

caught deep indoors.

Speak sun light and

cast this drought

downstream.

The Island

Moving

hearts to islands

and back.

Disposable tact

coupled with

first time insanity.

Wicked west wisdom;

blowing up lighthouses.

The stress of the flash

fades the soul faster.

Caviar

Capital numbers, I'm releasing endorphins.
Last call petals fall and line the way
to her demise (quicksand)
while ballroom bound, dancing ghosts
entice walking tongue planks.
Dive into your words, disconnected.
Find something I missed and
tuck it behind your teeth,
for a special occasion.

North

Fragments.
Bones shattered from straining,
like necks looking for land.
Heart breaks a little every sunset
because you said he would always
guide me back to you.
Plagued by stars, I'm finding trends and
calculating clues in the dark.
I'll sleep with my eyes open,
floating on a feeling.

Revolution

Tar drip down the sides of your mouth
left hoping the worst, you're singing in vowels.
(Still got a pulse, so this should be good.)
I'm waiting, anticipating all bare back beats
spilling from you're mind, now capsized, and
you've forgotten to keep time again.
Let's dance. And dream.
Someday we'll find meaning.

Seek

Huddle to think

and find a cave that

bares your mark.

Closing In

Time bombs marching on
with a lost cause
concept of time,
sevens and dimes and nines.
Was it worth it?
Wicks too small
for safe ground.

QueenB

Only interested in physical manifestations,
no forlorn desires to reach beneath
and

eloquent. even speaking of her
poking and prodding hipbone goodbyes,
only grazing the surface of where we've been.

Waiting for the second wave.
Unfocus. Blur.
Sinking.

I'm afraid to blink.

rotten

apple core kisses
don't want my lips
to reach you.
a poison.
don't want to
sink my teeth into
your mind
anymore.

pennies

washed clean
i'll show you validation
but not ready to breathe

Pollinate

Not worth the sunlight you need to grow,
stems from your ears lead me to believe
my words are unpollinated,
getting caught in the wind.

Rolling

You taste acidic.

Makes sense given

your interest in me,

long drawn out

alchemy.

Poison and pixels

on a two inch screen.

She's conjuring again.

Viole(n)t

Rolling eyes and

furrowed brows,

a vile little thing.

I think it winked

but couldn't quite tell

through the clenched jaw

I was maintaining.

Tongue slipped me some

tender propensities,

nasty tendencies.
Back away slowly.

Mad Jazz

The mad crazy jazz lady
told me she was thinking about
me and love
in the same sentence again.
Reaction time down to a science,
and I’ll blink away confessions.
Swooning at her crooning mellow affection
plucking at my heart;
I love this bass line.

Dirty Digital

When my dubz not dark,
barely bobbing heads
without a smile.
I’m not free to dance.
Stop interrupting my
disgusting pristine worship,
and get back to the good shit.
Foul sinister mister you’re my
dirty digital love,
only once repulsive.

I Spy

Instant response,
shoulders shrugging.
Mind hugging lines drawn
by thrashing through the air.
Joyride til we find
where we left our thoughts,
probably hanging from a tree.

Dankkkkk

No flow she screamed and
jaws hit the floor
falling three stories.
Cracked concrete outlined
outrage
for her vile central existence.
Clearly they’ll let
just anyone in these days…

Sash

Coma remix my transparent hands,
I’m touching your heart I think.
Reaching out but forgetting extension,
I’m swirling. Gotten a hold of your lungs.
Reconfessing all my favourite sins to you,
maybe fabricate a few for good measure.
Manually breathing my flames, you plunge
into subconscious love,
the only real thing there ever was.

Miss Kraze

And they played dubstep at her funeral.
Watching from a distance while they
cried to the tune of disgusting Omens.
Too dark they said. Too much to bare.
Was this some kind of sick joke?
But she laughed from her pedestal
as the dub took them in.
Slowly sullen heads turned to
slightly bobbing, until there were only
dry eyes in the house.
Memory got lost and left.
They simply kept dancing because
all the songs became one.

Four hours later someone
remembered to be sad
and shed a tear between sets.

Homage

Going in for the kill.
I hope you can understand,
maybe skream a little louder.
Melt your face off.
I left my name at the door.

3x5

You told me you loved me
as John Mayer did the same,
and though you said it with conviction
I couldn’t help but wonder
if you were just singing along...

She Knows

I sing you my
broken record song
only because I love you
enough to apologize
every time.
I’m getting a new needle,
I promise.

Adoration

I was clinging to the sides
for dear life
as I poured my soul out.
By the time I realized how much
I was saying, the room
was flashing lights.
Now I have height, a shadow,
and room to fall.

Footprints

I watched your footprints, not feet,
lead away from me.
Thought maybe if I thought
you were only a ghost
feelings could be phantom too.
But when you stopped walking
and my eyes caught up to
the souls of your feet,
I felt. Meaning materialized
and senses were no longer pallid.
Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so much
if there weren’t another
set of footprints
running alongside yours.
She had feet too.
She wasn’t a ghost either.
She was the steady stream of companionship.
The footprints
I could never be.

Plan C

The last time I said I love you
and meant it
you struck the words straight to the ground
and they found new meaning
mingling with the dirt.
Building up a tolerance for bovine lies,
I waited to pick them back up.
This time I’ll be more vigilant, maybe
launch them right at you,
square in your eyes so that when dirt
trickles off and clouds your vision you won’t know,
it was love that hit you.

But dust clears.

All Systems Go

Clinking against his throat
his enlightened vibrations
consumed me, rejuvenating
drums as they passed along
through my thin white lines.
In awe, I chimed in praise,
hailing yellow disguises
and chasing flashing lights.
But my ambience fell flat;
he didn’t speak my claptrap.
Green crept in, exhausting
his meaning down the boulevard.

Unfaithful.

I feel the interlude
to the breakdown;
chorus again.
Cheap repetition,
maybe I mean it this time.
Pleading strings
striking harmonies.
All the while I’m stuck
holding back belts,
not ready to move on.
Verse one, take two.

Watch the World

Sitting, watching the world
exhale.
Off its axis, turned to me for friendly advice.
Taught to spin from young
I exclaimed the sky was too clear.
Hazy days, cloud’s waves
make for motion.
Blue is too easy a distraction
to get lost in.

Maps

I love you, but you love maps.
Maps with direction and routes;
planned escapes.
Laid out, easily accessible
to doubtful fingertips.
With no itinerary,
you face the unknown.
Atlas lack hesitation
and you find solace in knowing
wherever you end up
you’ll find someone you don’t recognize.
I tell you I love you,
you turn to maps.

Grey Meaning.

Lately I’m settling,
looking inside and turning up
only shades.
I want to find full colours,
not grey scale truths
and feeling.
I’ve found adjectives are no longer
in my best interest,
but even trying to keep it simple
I succumb to hindrances.
More lost than I’ve ever been,
I won’t admit defeat.
Not yet.
But when most days consist of
killing time, my mind has no choice

but to wander.

Composure

Split decision.
The head I called mine.
Incision.
My now bleeding seam,
no sweet nothings hidden inside
or safe kept secrets.
More like maggots and lies,
rotting dreams.
Forgotten.

Two Hours

To be frank, I can’t hear
the world crashing around my ears.
It’s something crazy, deconstructed.
Somehow I imagined it different,
limbs still intact perhaps.
And you said nothing.
Bombs away.

Complacent

Ask about obscenities before you close your eyes
to part the tides of dreams for gleaming beams
falling flat without a shadow.
I've lost the ground but found the sound
you left me in the sky, never thinking
I could get this high.
I want you screaming confessions.

S-25 Berkut

Lungs heavy with thoughts left unsaid,
no room left in my head for
side winding words shooting from all corners
of your mouth, always hitting their mark.
My ears left ringing, I'll spring for a feeling
outside myself.
A little new, a little broken,
can I borrow a sentimental something?
used, abused, old news to me
I'll sing you sweet nothings when you aren't listening.
Its only always the beginning anyway.

Crickets

cricks from jaw bone neglect
louder than words that don't quite
spill anymore.
leaky faucets running
always leaving me half empty.

Frank

push my fingers through to
find which words got caught;
like letters on tonsils and
secrets hiding behind wisdom teeth,
all your pleasant speak is
good as lost in the notches
of your spine.

Leg of Lamb

The silent type.
Let actions speak
louder than day old verbs
hanging to dry.
The explicits,
let them rot
on my tongue,
but I’ll show my teeth.
A sailor's song.

Polite

Lately I'm without.
Lost in a mind that's not my own.
Wet eyelids.
I listen in the background.

Ladykiller

Every bone was black,
muscle too.
Tongue stretched from
saying everything ears wanted.
Speech so dark,
said she saw my insides.
Her words, cursed with specific intent,
hollowed me out.

She stole my breath
and wouldn’t give it back.

Meaning

I need to find something, maybe meaning.
The lump in my throat
was speaking leagues again.
I swallowed hard enough for both of us.
Relating all too well to rain,
she washed away.
No words remained.

I wanted her to be my meaning.