Deliverance

SWEET NOSTALGIA, DELIVER ME FROM ALL THINGS BORING.
LET ME ESCAPE, I AM NOTHING BUT STORAGE FOR MEMORY. 
KEEP ME SANE. TIME, BE GENTLE.

Babying

   When all your friends become attack dogs or naysayers. 
   Must I always struggle with these same reoccurring failures?
   I cannot look at this disgusting mixture. 
   Puking up a sick blend of emotional dialect and scripture. 
   Stuck here with not an option viable. 
   I'll drown in the ink writing this twisted melodramatic bible.
   No way that the weight and severity of this hatred is aiding my health. 
   I wish I could learn a person can love me more than I can, myself.

Shit Colored

The most awful thing a person has done in my past is
taken a paint brush and colored rose the lenses of my glasses

That Shining Object

       “ One can never tell for certain if that dazzling, shiny object is rising or setting. "

Dark Gray Clouds

"This is the moment that you know
That you told her that you loved her but you don't.

You touch her skin and then you think

That she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.

Yeah, she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.

I wanted to believe in all the words that I was speaking,

As we moved together in the dark

And all the friends that I was telling

All the playful misspellings

and every bite I gave you left a mark

Tiny vessels oozed into your neck

And formed the bruises

That you said you didn't want to fade

But they did, and so did I that day

All I see are dark gray clouds

In the distance moving closer with every hour

So when you ask "Is something wrong?"

I think "You're damn right there is but we can't talk about it now.

No, we can't talk about it now."

So one last touch and then you'll go

And we'll pretend that it meant something so much more

But it was vile, and it was cheap

and you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me

yeah you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me"

With Your Anger

I can empathize with your anger; I am always so discontent

We are all so terribly aware I have no cause for lament

Timid

tim·id  (tmd)

adj. tim·id·er, tim·id·est

1. Lacking self-confidence; shy.

2. Fearful and hesitant: problems that call for bold, not timid, responses.

timid [ˈtɪmɪd]

adj

1. easily frightened or upset, esp. by human contact; shy

2. indicating shyness or fear

[from Latin timidus, from timēre to fear]

Mistook A Tailpipe For A Windpipe

And in that affectionate moment I closed my eyes, leaned in, 
and tasted the exhaust of your wind pipe; I missed

You turned your head, then your back, and I suspected this not in the slightest

The one thing I allowed myself to covet

Left me in the dust burning my eyes; it wasn't that which made me cry,

but the rather the absence of it

You whispered "You are something I need."

The silence of the aftermath created a ringing in my ears which caused them to bleed

I was left sick from it

'You're dead to me.' buried six feet deep,

In the pit of my nauseated stomach

The Worst

i had a dream last night i was yelling in scott's face you are the worst friend i could ever have. 
subsequent i recall yelling that that was fine.

Present

so deep in the past, having a difficult time presenting myself.

Apparent

My ominous sadness more a parent than either of them.

Knock It Off

Oh the hatred, the loathing, the shame.
        My flaws don't need, don't come with a name. 
                 If I saw any one of them outside my body, I'd knock it right in the face.

Question And

        Can't answer the phone can't answer the door. Nobody questions the "hardship" of this simplistic life.

Laughing Fits

 We take turns laughing. We are close side by side in your guest bed, under that unforgettably wonderful down blanket and it's dark, and it's late. We don't exactly know what each other are laughing at, or what we, ourselves are, but mostly the other laughing. I recognized even then, how nice it was to have your happiness make someone happy, and for theirs to make you so.

As My Own

"I pegged his stupidity for a moment, then recognized it as my own."

Redemption

"But be a little leery of people like me in my current state. Despite my proper intensions 

and inherent good will, I am addicted to revival and redemption and release. In  

order to be revived one must first be exhausted. In order to be redeemed one first has 

to fail. In order to be released we have to first be trapped. Inspiration can turn into a 

tricky cycle if we’re not careful."

"...so don’t come to me, poet, with your ink and your holy experience 

sittin’ there all raw pretending not to be, 

all that vulnerability bubblin’ under yer surface 

actin’ unconscious of how awkward you make things at the dinner table. 

You scathe your observations, then bathe ‘em then 

Call ‘em all out on stages 

actin’ unconscious of how awkward you make things at the dinner table. 

You scathe your observations, then bathe ‘em then 

Call ‘em all out on stages 

reaffirming that you’re right about a thing or two 

because you didn’t get enough confidence 

from the people who swiped you through school. 

Approval junky. 

Pressure cooker. 

Smoke stacker 

steady whistles 

speed tears streamin’ 

exhausted from excuses 

still hopin’ we can hover on 

holy 

when you’re finally finished claiming 

THERE IS NOTHING WRONG! 

THERE’S NOT ANYTHING WRONG!"

Books

          "some people aren’t books, they’re poems"

Catharsis

ca·thar·sis

  

–noun, plural

1.

the purging of the emotions or relieving of emotionaltensions, especially through certain kinds of art, as tragedyor music.

ca·thar·sis

plural ca·thar·ses

Definition of CATHARSIS

1

: purgation

2

a : purification or purgation of the emotions (as pity and fear) primarily through artb : a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension

3

: elimination of a complex by bringing it to consciousness and affording it expression

New House

i lost some things in my move, mostly friends, but some clothes too.

The Worst Part Is I'm Worse

I guess the worst part 
is if I see you 
I can't say I'm better.

Affinity

When someone's face feels close to yours and they're looking directly in your eyes, so deeply that they are feeling something; the something you are feeling. They delved into your heart and brain, penetrating your past, your pain. They are receiving and understanding, and everything is mutual and beautiful, and more than likely completely silent. It is honest and natural and truly genuine, both equally in awe at such a spectacular connection by only the contact of eyes. But in actuality none of this is the case, they were just looking.

Let Myself/Lost Myself

Where was it that I lost me?

"All my eggs in a basket of red flags, 

all my eyes to a bucket of blindfolds."

Regretting Things I Knowingly Made Up

Racked racked racked with guilt.

It's Just Like That

It's like when you are young you want so badly to pull apart an oreo cookie, because you know you can, with the expectations it will evenly divide. You twist or just yank, rip or tug, however you do it that little ivory circle of cream that held so much importance in that moment just stays and sticks on diligently, just as you had hoped it wouldn't, it withstands, unevenly.

Beauty Is Shining

                 "It finds a way to be unhappy when all the world's beauty is shining around it, 
                    when love smiles through all things."

Always You Will

"Mother, father, always you wrestle inside me, always you will."

My Own World

"I was sitting in my own world, in my head."

Echo

silent kisses echo.

Time

What happened to the days?

God Vs This

I'm not fighting God or religion, just me.

Dark

I only take glances in the dark, can't bear to see the reflection of this face in the light, 
I won't take changes any more if it gets me this far, it's all relative, I've been up all night.

Conceal

sweep every imperfection under the rug, hide it and pretend it wasn't even there

cover and conceal every relic i once left, pretend i didn't desperately care

and there are still those several things that i lack

one of them is being just like you, blocking it all out and never, ever looking back

Passion

"Passion wasn't worth it"

Ran

"It seems that when I ran away from my past
all my dignity, my faith, my pride got left back.
And now I think it's time that I realize
self pity's meaningless.
Though I'm ten feet deep,
I'll claw my way back out from in my grave."

Don't Kill Yourself

""Don't you follow, don't go making my mistakes"
And I realized what he meant

Don't kill yourself to raise the dead

It never works you'll only end up joining them"

It's Not

it's not hopeless like it should be, it's not as painful as our memories,

Stream Of Remorse

it's just you knew some pattern of mine before it was made 

and were thinking you know how this ends and that it will, why even stall me?

you're practically prepared for this to fade

much too eager to say sorry

all the while believing the truth, all I'll ever be good for is a somewhat thorough apology

There's A Time

"THERE’S A TIME WHEN YOU CAN LET THE SCARS OF PAST ADVERSITY GOVERN YOUR DAILY LIFE.

But that time isn’t now"

Bloodshot

"they're bloodshot but they'll be black by morning"

Favor For A Favor

Don't talk to me, if it is in fact in the form of a favor. 
       I suppose these days and nights I would rather lie in bed and cry over my naive nature. 
              I just couldn't see back then how every intimate exchange was a personal wager.

i guess just nothing lately has meant very much
i just think about kissing you, it's the only way to feel a rush
i look but i guess it's difficult to find people sincere enough to blush

But Broken The Glass

"YOU'VE        OPENED        MY          WINDOW      
         BUT        BROKEN        THE          GLASS."

able

abandonable.

Current Tide

    


                        The unstoppable tide brings the trash back in.

Too

t o o s a d t o l i v e to o s c a r e d t o d i e.

well completly living for the past sure makes the present dull, 

I still hold each secret and keepsake, 

only I can't have any new, my hands are full.

Lights

And I lay here for hours on end 
replaying every memory 
just suffering through them all, 
as the freeway headlights 
dance slowly on 
my bedroom walls.

Lost Forever

I lost fucking everything in the fire that was depression, all consuming and irreversible.

Notes

 Singing your burning bridge.

Deteriorating

I think there are two ways of looking at life and maybe one is that you are born a giant flawless kingdom. then as you live and grow it gets worn and chipped away and dissolves into nothing until you die or what have you. the second, being you are born a clean palette and as you age and grow and mature you build a giant magnificent structure perfect in your own way and you die accomplished and complete. several things have in fact made me trust the first notion, and though once I believed I was building and creating, it is now clear pieces are withering and crumbling. this is not to say that this idea is the utmost depressing, for perhaps in all my realizations and reflections I know now that I indefinitely want nothing here to remain.

I Have Control Of It

in the dream I had you and I were alone outside, sitting on something fairly close to the ground, I remember hurriedly telling you everything that I've wanted to without you ever making a sound. I recall believing it to be real, due to the feeling that I still wasn't sure you wanted me around, but I knew something wasn't right when everything was wrong and you were the first one that I found.

.

where are we?

Nothing

you open up the flood gates
with your smug face
filling my head with recollections i couldn't erase
your words that no one else's could ever replace
but let's keep it this way, keep it this way
don't force anything, there's nothing to say
there is nothing to say

When I Went To Bed That Evening

""I felt the life drain from my blood. My bones softened. I felt this...this...this kind of predepression. Like, I knew I couldn't be depressed yet, because the game was still in progress. I still had to try to win, because that is what you do whenever you play any game. You try to win. You aren't allowed to give up, even philosophically. I still had to pretend that those final five seconds had meaning, and I could not outwardly express fear or sadness or disappointment. But I instantly knew how terrible I would feel when I went to bed that evening. I could visualize my future sadness. And because I was an eighth-grader — because I had no fucking perspective on anything — I assumed this would bother me for the rest of my life. It seemed like something that would never go away. So I stood on the edge of the free-throw lane, tugging on the bottom of my shorts, vocally reminding my teammates to box out, mentally preparing myself for a sadness that would last forever."
"Interesting," I said. "It seems that you are describing how it feels to be doomed.""

Morning Person

""

Low Culture

"The mass media causes sexual misdirection: It prompts us to need something deeper than what we want . This is why Woody Allen has made nebbish guys cool; he makes people assume there is something profound about having a relationship based on witty conversation and intellectual discourse. There isn't. It's just another gimmick, and it's no different than wanting to be with someone because they're thin or rich or the former lead singer of Whiskeytown. And it actually might be worse, because an intellectual relationship isn't real at all . My witty banter and cerebral discourse is always completely contrived. Right now, I have three and a half dates worth of material, all of which I pretend to deliver spontaneously. This is my strategy: If I can just coerce women into the last half of that fourth date, it's anyone's ball game. I've beaten the system; I've broken the code; I've slain the Minotaur. If we part ways on that fourth evening without some kind of conversational disaster, she probably digs me. Or at least she thinks she digs me, because who she digs is not really me. Sadly, our relationship will not last ninety-three minutes (like Annie Hall ) or ninety-six minutes (like Manhattan ). It will go on for days or weeks or months or years, and I've already used everything in my vault. Very soon, I will have nothing more to say, and we will be sitting across from each other at breakfast, completely devoid of banter; she will feel betrayed and foolish, and I will suddenly find myself actively trying to avoid spending time with a woman I didn't deserve to be with in the first place.

Perhaps this sounds depressing. That is not my intention. This is all normal. There's not a lot to say during breakfast. I mean, you just woke up, you know? Nothing has happened. If neither person had an especially weird dream and nobody burned the toast, breakfast is just the time for chewing Cocoa Puffs and/or wishing you were still asleep. But we've been convinced not to think like that. Silence is only supposed to happen as a manifestation of supreme actualization, where both parties are so at peace with their emotional connection that it cannot be expressed through the rudimentary tools of the lexicon; otherwise, silence is proof that the magic is gone and the relationship is over (hence the phrase "We just don't talk anymore")."

Memorabilia

THESE FRIENDS LEAVE NOW LITTLE THINGS AROUND MY ROOM

BUT THEY ARE NOT FOR ME, AND IT ISN'T LIKE HOW YOU DO

Box Office

I can't stop the shakes 

they used to come in waves

and now they just stay

I guess I could control them somewhat way back when

but now it's blatant I've lost it as you watch me attempt to steady this pen

Our

our love
our love was overstated
every welcome felt overstayed
all of our songs together just overplayed
and i'm so jaded
by our love
bye our love
our love

i'll write you a letter for everything i said but you still misunderstand

about the only aspects i could possibly bear about myself how they faded with that summer's tan

there is so much that was figured out incorrectly i've been finding

though it hardly matters now, because since that day even the sun's been in hiding

i'm cold and desolate and estranged  

i would do anything and everything i could just to have an hour just the same

the climate never alters, the biting weather never falters

i am weak, pale, and frail, through and through

you were the brightness, hope and happiness and i'm just 

the pissing rain without you

Hue

My handful of aspirin, I roll them in my fingers playfully, gliding slowly in my palm, to, and fro
their chalky hue melts against my balmy skin, leaving my hands an awful red, rightfully so

But Not Me

Bland Social Bonding as A Means Of Escapism.

Always Am

"You’re quick sand
I work and fight but just sink deeper in the end
And every morning say I won’t get stuck again
But by nightfall baby here I always am."

Not Even A Trace

You looked inside me 

to find there is nothing to take, 

now the note you left in my vacancy 

is the only thing taking up its endless space.