I Keep Moving

"Miss Intuition, the half-truth harlot
Got her suspicions
Lacks proof but wants it
I've been practicin grabbin the noose when the knot slips
Rewiring my mind to make the firing squad miss
And while they're busy reloading
I'm decoding the messages she sent with this key I keep holding
But it's a copy
And the lock seems broken
Got me chokin' on discussions I cannot keep open
I'm fully clothed in this cock-tease moment
The last cigarette sits between my lips
But I will not smoke it
While it dangled I got strangled by a second hand
Broke the ropes when I held my breath and let my chest expand



I started walking the tracks you should've tied me to
I waited for a train to hop but stopped to say good-bye to you
When I turned my head
I heard what you said:
"Murder him dead and try to do it with the girl in his bed"
So I fled
As I remembered one should never look back
There's no direction home only blood on the tracks
Stuck in the past
I jetted and left the red footprints for them to follow
Headed toward tomorrow
And took sips from the flask
That you bought me
For my sober anniversary
Her dad tracks my scent
She's got her old man in search of me
He knows where I'm headed, he's been there
King of the home 
Sits on his throne like it's an electric chair
I'm the heir to that domestic death sentence
I see people accepting lethal injections
Dead in seconds
They confused prison for a bed in breakfast
Used their one call on voicemail to see who left a message
Could it be her?
Could it be!?
They're desperate
Mad at me cause they lack a strategy for exit
Nobody pregnant, nobody get burped
I got lost on this head trip but won't talk to an expert
My legs hurt cuz I've been walking with cement boots
Ever since you lured me to the water bed to get cute
She had a wet suit and dry dispostion
But couldn't execute that type of mission
It's no small time thing organizing my ending
My book of life
Is a "Choose Your Own Adventure"
With a circular section
You can tell your friends I walked all over you
But you know that's not what these boots were made to do
In fact, you had them crafted at the store
Said, "Baby, slip em on" but I don't know what you take me for
I knew what was up once I felt nailed to the floor
And since the key didnt work I kicked my way through the door

I keep moving
I go from house to house
I stay committed like one foot in, one foot out
I bounce"

Crawls Across

    
      "Sunshine crawls across our sadness, burning mine and hiding yours"

 "you are the equivalent to a twin sized bed."

Silence Is A Mirror

Silence is a canyon

you throw your voice out into

and if you're crazy enough

you can warp that echo into anything

silence is a mirror

and if you're creative enough

you can see anyone

anything

in the darkness of silence

do anything

except convince yourself you've seen the light

Inferior

There is this innate 
and nearly subconscious defeat
in the back of my mind
then finally forefront
and I am saddened
to return perfection
with inadequacy 
and shortcomings


this is where it all falls apart
not being enough
not feeling like enough and in turn
feeling like you don't want to be anything at all


everything is unbalanced
then exceedingly off kilter 
between the give up
and the striving to be what someone deserves
someone so good
looking into the face of someone
so common


and you think of how the worst part of it all
is that the other party is not expecting
or feeling worth a person encompassing complete wholeness


and you think even so much worse
is that other party's acknowledgement
they desire idealistic pureness


I don't take this seriously

Agoraphobia

"When you walk without ease 
On these 
Streets where you were raised 
I had a really bad dream 
It lasted 20 years, 7 months, and 27 days 
I never, I'm alone, and I 
Never, ever oh ... had no one ever"


Sure, I believe in synchronicities, I see them, play my part, but this is different. This is energy, in my brain and in my heart. There is a meaning, but what's the point? I feel the energy, of this intrinsic spirit, and it's sick, and it feels me too, pulling, and pulling away. This is tug-of-war, with a rope, and a love. My hands are raw, but I smiled sincerely all day, sure, I wish you the same. But this is magic, used the wrong way. Am I awake? can I get away?

Where Are You

""

"Ghost Town To dream that you are in a ghost town suggests that you are feeling rejected by society. You may be isolating yourself from others. Alternatively, the dream means that you are living in the past and clinging onto memories. It is time to let go and live in the present times."

Won't It?

i stay on the phone as some sort of compensation
i wasn't going out of this house today
you take what you will from a conversation
the worst thing you can do during an explosion is under react she would say
i realize i keep putting makeup on each morning to remain bearable
i remember she also said you sound terrible
i liked the sound of that, but then regret it
she said one person desperate for one other's company is pathetic
my mind wanders to feeling silly joy in that person's presence
this may be the first time in my life i feel this supposed to be unity
we're each on the brink of nothing, and daily i sense that shared terror inside of me


at least
i hear a distant baseball and bat clink
but it makes me think
you could almost hear that too
it makes me wonder
if you knew i had so little left living for
what would you do
would you come save me like i would come save you


it does not matter, all history does is repeat
last evening i put on a sad movie and cried in my sheets
for two hours at least
i reminded myself that at the darkest
it's got to get better won't it
and with the morning sun something different is sure to come
i just forgot what it was in that moment


i thought recently that it was all because of my striving to grow
that i lost so truly that kinship to all those that i know
but how we deal with suffering and uncertainty
i'll never show
and if they want to make a grandious occasion of it each night
i let them go
i'll let them go

Some Things You Can't Fake

"All eyes on the calendar

Another year I claim of total indifference

To here, the days pile up

With decisions to be made, I'm sure all of them were wrong

Into this song I send myself

And with these drinks I plan to collapse

And forget this wasted year, these wasted years

Devoted friends, they disappear

And I'm sorry about the phone call and needing you

Some decisions you don't make

I guess it's just like breathing or not wanting to

There are some things you can't fake

I guess that it's typical

To cling to memories you'll never get back again

And to sort through old photographs

Of a summer long ago or a friend that you used to know"

Conversing

I observed his eyes glaze over a bit, shifting backwards through the months, his voice the most serious he asks if I have not been happy since then. I stammered, I told him of course I had been happy, I had been having a great time. I paused in that falsity, there are different kinds of happiness, I corrected.

Brighter

      "The future gets a little darker, and the past even the grimey parts, gets a little brighter."

You Can't Do That To Them

You were the one who decided so consciously to create me, and more recently, to tell me that it isn't worth my friend's time to be associated with someone bearing this outlook on life. You convinced me that my loved ones deserve better than my unhappiness, just radiating out of me. Some days I disagree with the latter choice of words, some days I disagree with the prior choice of action.

So parents, I am sorry that the entwining of your bitterness did not in fact cancel itself out in either of us,

as you had covertly hoped those years ago. 

Wrote This In My Sleep

   Always astonished, and shouldn't be, it's by comparison, always was. You know the queues just so well or something, I can't even say what you're picking up on. Maybe it's all just that you remember all that I tell you, ever said. If you are not acting upon your perceptions though, then I wonder how perceptive it all is. I just know you know, and I know so many, who could never ask. Are you reading into my responses, too? Fraudulent and slightly delayed.
   Someone figured out the soft spots, and really left me wondering if I should ever explain them.




  "I've known John long enough to see he isn't devoid of emotion. His subtle facial twitches wouldn't have been noticed by the layman but to me, he might as well have been sobbing."

Unassuming

Sometimes, and more often then you'll realized, you get precisely what you have been wanting. Never the way that you intended or expected, not even in a way you thought you wanted a lot of the time. I just hope that I do not forget that I do get those things, and appreciate those unplanned and unexpected really good days. Different means, same wish.

Cannonball

“You said, “Come on in, the water’s fine.” So I busted cannonballs off across the ocean and back and you said, “That’s not what I meant.” I know I took things too far sometimes but I didn’t mean to pass you by. Every day I would try catching up to you. Every day you would pull me over and ask where I was going in such a hurry. By the time I realized I had missed your point I took to asking if you would meet me, way off the mark. I’d make you dizzy and hope it felt good. You’re gone now and I get it."

Waves Of Blades

I saw the wind roll over the grass in beautiful waves
the field acting so affected as if the wind may not stay around
and the breeze caressing like the grass would always be there
and it would be, and the wind would come and go as it pleased

                   
             can't look it in the eye, can't look away. nervously drinking different glasses of water.

We Have Each Other

  We have each other. We have each other. You will get me through this, and I will always put up with you.

Quiet Painful

I have learned from numerous facets that love is quiet and painful. Love apart is keeping your lips sealed, never saying a word. It is the most private thing in the world, I will wait forever to be proven otherwise. The more private, the more authentic and true.


"I never knew you bragged about me."


Everything everywhere demonstrates the same thing; whatever it is you are looking for.

Queasy Easy

The milk I watched you drink curdled in my stomach, and I guess that's how my whole life turned out.

Also

I am right where I was before I even came, tiptoeing amongst the same graves. Mostly grossly detesting this human, head to toe.

Loved Of Course

"i haven’t written a poem in so long
i may have forgotten how
unless writing a poem
is like riding a bike
or swimming upstream
or loving you
it may be a habit that once acquired
is never lost

but you say i’m foolish
of course you love me
but being loved of course
is not the same as being loved because
or being loved despite
or being loved

if you love me why
do i feel so lonely
and why do i always wake up alone
and why am i practicing
not having you to love
i never loved you that way

if being loved by you is accepting always
getting the worst
taking the least
hearing the excuse
and never being called when you say you will
then it’s a habit
like smoking cigarettes
or brushing my teeth when i awake
something i could just as well do

most habits occur
because of laziness
we overdrink
because our friends do
we overeat
because our parents think
we need more flesh
on the bones
and perhaps my worst habit
is overloving
and like most who live
to excess
i will be broken
in two
by my unwillingness
to control my feelings

but i sit writing
a poem
about my habits
which while it’s not
a great poem
is mine
and some habits
like smiling at children
or giving a seat to an old person
should stay
if for no other reason
than their civilizing
influence

which is the ultimate
habit
i need
to acquire"

Commence Coma

Can't differentiate drowning from floating.




Erased progress, and accurate projections.

Dark

Dear Diary, 
Greeted to no electricity. 
God knows almost as well as I do, it will be a long....life.

Coming At All Angles

"Be there,
or be predictable."

Flash Of Meaning

and if my worth is in friendship and relationships then i should not be ashamed that it is that. you told me believe in what you love, and focus on just that. if my purpose and meaning isn't a career or this vague concept of success, then my worth can be determined solely by the fact that those that i love think that i am of worth. all i need is you and our love and you reminded me that by saying just the same.

spending some time with potentially some of the best people in the world is bound to change your mood, and you see clearer and clearer that it was all anyway only your attitude.

Driving Around

I have a disease that can't be cured
that nothing fades
nothing fades except the good parts of me
going crazy
but seeing the problem
that my best was not enough
and more importantly that your absolute worst
was the best to me


time is the most fraudulent thing that I cannot see
and anything changing my mind
will not be
nothing faded
aside from the means to be happy

Perch

the adult in me feels gratitude

and the child in me doesn't wanna go

Suspended

For once I really suppose that I can say that in this period of time, currently, I am living more within the fear for my future than the melancholy of my past. It is no longer so much who I have been that is discomforting, but rather (and increasingly) how that has shaped and formed me to be today.

I guess feeling the jarring amplification of all the small things overtime has gotten me reasonably concerned with stirring the surrounding waters, whatsoever. My parents assure me that my profound and complex self loathing, and relentless worthlessness is age appropriate. I really suppose they do not know that I am not my age, now, for time stopped within those moments of stark shame, and ceased to ever start back up again.

Just A Thought For Sore Minds

I'll only ponder this, this once

I could barely make you out

over the sound of the egg shells I must of stomped on

you said something like

you had a dream you told me to get up

and get gone

A Long Goodbye

The end looks exactly like stepping in gum,  

and I never meant for it to always go like this. 

Sticky, stringy and no longer sweet,

stuck in my head with every step, 

always like it's under my feet.

My Breathing Patterns

"So striking, 
I swear you leveled me with a look,
reminded me of my breathing patterns,
ran your hands through the grease and set fire to my face,
seduced a love to grief and left the same as you came,
we were based on an end,
It’s as if everyone always arrives already gone,
some say love is a river and the wetness behind my ears puts out the wick,
some say love is time, I helped you pass,
love is location, we were just circumstance,
could almost smell the must, the urgency
I knew better, I just didn’t care,
but I think that I felt more inside you than I would have liked,
you carved me rigid, and I hate you for it
you were everything I wanted at night,
you were a dream, but come light,
I lost what I saw in you,
through those somber windows,
we were addicted to the moon light lines in my old room,
and I couldn’t tell us apart."

So Damn Long

"Air is all you need.
Pull your last smoke through me.
Come on, inhale. 
Pull it hard and leave.
Well here I am again.
We all break in our own way.
But I don’t remember such a bone cold chill on such a spring day.

I should have called more, come up more.
Spent more time just sitting with you.
Because now all I’ve got is old footage to help me bide.
And it seems that pictures of an old life have helped me to pass mine by.
I miss every word, every lesson learned.
Clear your throat and cough, loosen it up.
Well I’ve been sunsetting so damn long.
And the length of those lies only stretches so far.
In hell like this, on nights like these.
I just miss your humor, I just need someone to blame tonight.
You know I could never hang in as hard as I could hang on.
And here I am again."

Where A Garden Was

"There's a muddy field where a garden was."

“I think you lost what you loved in that mess of details. They seemed so important at the time but now you can’t even recall. Any of the names, faces, or lines, it is more the feeling of it all. Well, winter is going to end and I’m going to clean these veins again. So close to dying that I finally can start living.”

For Ever

I will only bring this up this once. A lot because I am tired of thinking about all of it; I certainly shouldn't be any longer. But we laid there on the same pillow, and maybe it came up, and I guess something proposed it, I showed that person my septum ring, by flipping it down for just a brief moment. That person was a subtle person, and all his reactions comparatively subdued. Several different things crossed my mind in those moments, I wanted to tell and show him everything, so I could be free forever. I wished in a small way to show him that mark, to disclose to him how a person can really affect another in every way forever. I wanted to show this person dedication, trust, loyalty, proving something bigger than words, larger than love. Only you cannot put something beyond diction into a language that could ever be understood. I kept my secret a secret, in fear, it would remain that forever.

  I still remember, dwell on, the faded places of your blue jeans, and all things 
faded. 

Haven't Said For A While

Do you remember how we used to say to each other "Just get through the goddamn day"? How it was something that only you and I understood fully, and how we would never tell it or explain it to anyone else? Remember those days we had work? And we would say "Just get through the goddamn shift"? I remember laughing a bit, I remember when you were working. I treasured talking to you because we mean what we say and I can believe fully that we were honest. I still treasure talking to you for that same reason. I do not consider you still feeling that same way any more, about your shifts, and about your life, and it makes me feel truly sad to think how I wish you were truly sad again like me.

Dream Beds

Prelude: I stared longingly at your hairline, the back of your head, the frame of your shoulders, I'd seen so many like it, reminding me of this. I soaked in deeply your characteristics, features, and details. It was all dark, but your hair was so light, and short, and was just how I liked it. I remember your upper body, not chest but the outline, the sides, above your ribcage, under your arms, tension darkly building.


We were in a semi-lit bedroom and the bed was against the far wall on the lefthand side. We were on that bed and we talked until we absolutely couldn't and I waited all night, and you finally came at my face, swiftly and crooked. It got sort of blurry after that, shadowy, but you stopped and told me, for me, that you were seeing someone else. I remember telling you, or maybe her, that I was really happy that you told me. I told myself then, that I could not do that to myself, persist in treating myself like shit, so I didn't. I left, 
I went and found her, she said the same thing, and I knew then that I had been gone for too long, I created my reality now because of then, I knew it in that moment to leave. But I could not leave at all, I sat on the couch, for a long time, too long.

Not Anything Specific

"[They] looked at me. And I looked at them. And I think they knew. Not anything specific really. They just knew. And I think that's all you can ever ask from a friend."

"And she kissed me. And it was the kind of kiss that I could never tell my friends about out loud. It was the kind of kiss that made me know that I was never so happy in my whole life."

Sad Sense

  "I wish I knew. 
   It might make me miss him more clearly."

                       "I loved you like a man loves a woman he never touches, only writes to, keeps little photographs of."

Alone Again

I'm better off alone, my least favorite feeling, worming around in my own skin, like it doesn't fit. No one could be so specific, or empathetic, or patience. No one person could be so careful, devoted. I hate that feeling, eyes on me, as I squirm squeamish, in my own head, inside of my skin.

Hostage To The Holes And Houses

I don't know if this is true, but tonight it seems that the weight and severity of a relationship between any two people, upon being disjointed, may continue in that state. What I really mean is that reconciliation and repair is as easy at it was; at the same level. It appears as if the complexity of what was, is mirrored, when the persons are in a state of turmoil. If there is a lacking of past, the simpler it is to say, "Lets just put the past behind us."  It's as if you dug a hole, and the deeper and harder you dug, the more trying the climbing out. I mean this all in a positive way for the most part, as if love (connection and intimacy) is the digging, or more so that the chance of it being positive or negative is exactly equal. It is as weird as it was, it is as much of a struggle as it had been. If you had something basic and cordial, the recovery is similar to that, the wound is only as profound as the love. If you were so rooted in something, the uprooting was that terrible, and the reformation is of equivalent hardship, as everything else. Restoration is like attempting to recreate a house, from the ground up. Now sometimes they're made of toothpicks, or cards, but some houses have layers, and stories, and hardship, blood sweat and tears, it could take years, because it took years. Some houses have intricate details, secret places and memorabilia, skylights, sunlight, and dark places, and carpets that things got swept under. Tonight it is as hard as it was, as complicated and convoluted as it ever could have been, and if your burdens be heavy, and they were, it appeared easier to dig deep and get too immersed, but now it is the same situation in reverse, and your baggage is burdensome, it is abundant, and you spent all of the energy you had just getting down there, maybe now it is heavier, and you're trying to climb back up.

Wrote This On The Grass

ran, fast, like a dog gone stray, from his pack, abandoned, deserted. then one day taught itself to play dead, got addicted to the thrill of feeling invisible, some times it lasts for years.

Messages

 april 29th  april 30th

10:02pm  10:22am

Coincidentally

"we are a constellation of starting points

living in the image of a finish line,
but it is not our place to try and keep pace
with all of these things that we wish to feel least.”

Long Walking Race

I was dreaming, and myself and all that I knew were running this race, but really more at a walking pace. I was somewhat conscious you were somewhere behind me, but it all changed when I saw your face. I could barely move my legs, and all hope that was instantly diminished, I sincerely realized I may not finish.
I wondered exactly what it was that you were thinking, and woke up.

Inspirations

And now I am just looking for someone to light a fire under my ass

Because I seem to have been affected every way but that in the past

Something About You Made About Me

the hard part is you sucked the certainty out of all other things, like marrow out of my bones, and I heard that it hurts, and it did, that shook me so hard that I still feel the anxious shutter almost incessantly, and it vibrates every single thing that I touch more than a little bit, but the hardest part is that you are the only one who could ever stop it.

"He has the confidence of a man who knows all his own flaws but other’s even better."

Pooping Out Thoughts

A Few of the Many Things I Thought About On My Walk Home:

• I wish I had the confidence to feel annoying and ask for a double bag when I need them (my handle broke in the parking lot which should have been tremendously more embarrassing than asking for a second paper bag.)
• I like a guy feminine or perhaps just bold enough to say that he noticed my nail polish matches my shoes (I wish I thought up a wittier response.)
• I miss how we used to be able to tell in pictures if the other was genuinely happy when the photo was taken (It wasn't that we had the ability, but rather that we were looking.)
• Living in complete isolation is so comfortable, in a bubble (but there are pros and cons to every situation.)
• Things really change (the same exact situation can really, really change.)
• Never give the other person enough space and time to deliberate and contemplate the relationship (mainly because more than likely one will find a reason to depart.)

Or

                     "I like people too much or not at all."

Hour Hand To The Minute Hand

"What The Hour Hand Said To The Minute Hand

At 7:35 A.M, you lay your tired body on mine
before peeling off, like a slow band-aid.

At 8:40 you sprint home and make instant coffee.

At 9:45 we finally drink it, cold.
I finish your leftover half.

By 10:50 you are already breathless.
I live for every time we overlap.

When 11:55 comes I spend the entire minute convincing you to stay.
You never do.

By noon I put my hands on your shoulders and say, “Baby,
you’re getting thin. All this running in circles and barely sitting down to eat.”

At 1:05 you tell me that while you were gone,
15,300 babies were born.

At 2:10 you don’t say a word,
just come in and kiss me for sixty seconds straight.

At 3:15 we sit quiet, listening to rain falling everywhere
in the world at once: all 15,000 tons.

At 4:20 we pull a little from the tight joint I keep behind your ear.
You do not inhale.

At 5:25 you meet me for happy hour.
My neck already salted, a lime wedged in my teeth,
a shot of tequila sitting on the bar.

At 6:30 I hear the ticking.
I count your heartbeat like seconds between thunderclaps.

By 7:35 I can see you in the distance,
each second a tease until you drape over me.
We always love quick and you never let me hold you.
I dream of drinking you through a straw.

At 8:40 you watch my beard grow 0.00027 of an inch.

At 9:45 we do not speak.
Too many people have died since we last met.

At 10:50 we pray for a meteor,
at least a clumsy kid to spill sugar in our gears.

11:55 is my favorite.
We’re only apart for mere minutes.

But at midnight you’ll apologize sixty times
because it will always be like this.

At 1:04 AM I am already sleeping.
It’s exhausting loving someone
who is constantly running away."