Particles In Motion

So I’ve been lying,
stretching my teeth.
Seems to be a
wolf in sheep’s clothing
specialty.
Sinking claws deep
makes it all too easy.
And I do.
Smooth talker ‘til
I lose my jaw along with
words that circle drains
situated in my lungs.
Oh hell,
I only take your breath away.

Carnivore

What to say, I intra-think.
These words I deem,
ill-fitting, to say the least.
I’m dire and grim, and
maybe quick with wit.
Conniptions.

Childish

There’s blood on my hands:
monosyllabic confessions.
Let my common reactor
refer to her by name
while I skewed the meaning
of songs I hum.
It’s an ongoing process,
throwing civility out the window.

Lover Boy

Neck cricked back and
out the door, ready to strike.
Confirming unhinged sins
with heart string chords
in Eb major. Satisfaction
stole my breathe as
you acknowledged I was on fire.
Credits rolling, tight
like eyelids.
Shotty articulation left me slightly
confused, but bewildered all the same.

Yum

Words rub lips raw upon exit,
but I have to keep singing.
Every point is proving moot
but I still find comfort in
reaffirming what little sense I have.
I remember when every
thought had a process and
every process had meaning.
But then again, my memory
is who I used to be.

Jack, My Friend

Thinking is a feeling I can't quite place,

and he puts me to sleep once the sun

hits my face.

Stifling my swing, blurring,

he says I just need some time.

But with our staring contests

he always forgets, and blinks

when she catches his eye.

And if fingers go for a walk, tonight

I won't be talking,

just trying to find my feet.

Soda, popped

Fizzled, bubbles still tickle my nose though.
Can’t help but think of you,
damn my creativity and affinity for
love.

Formulaic

Feeling worn on rolled up sleeves and
excuses coating tip of tongue idioms.
Paint on a scowl,
for old time’s sake?
Say you’d never leave but
blood runs through this pen
like ink all too ready to grieve.
Poised, geared up to dart,
bob and weave between the trees
that still stand as this season
opts for an exit too.
Hesitantly so, and yet
still won’t leave me alone.

Five

I think I was waiting for you.
I think I thought
you were worth waiting for.
And you are.
Anything in the light I’ve
painted you in
is worth waiting for.
Even if just for lessons learned
sake.
My once bulletproof thinking
presented itself for closure’s sake
and you were the first thing
to hop off my chest;
impenetrable as ever.

Quiet Type (8/9 Criteria)

I dance.
Turning, swirling everything
off my shoulders.
I dance until
I don't know I'm real.
They cry.
When I wake
I'm still dancing, shaking.
Everyday I dance my
lungs expand a little more,
tongue swells.
Tap my foot to Billy
singing my anthem.
Back against the wall and
partner of choice,
capital M-E. Damn near silent.
But I know I can dance.