By Petal Myself As Spring

"your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

or which I cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me

though I have closed myself as fingers,

you open always petal by petal myself as spring opens

or if your wish be to close me, I and

my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,

as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals

the power of your intense fragility: whose texture

compels me with the colour of its countries,

rendering death and forever with each breathing"

We're Headed Out

"Towards the Clearing."

Scarely Smitten

pseudo sleep symptom of my pseudo sadness
super sham to feel something superior
similar to sobriety
you should've seen
so severely sweet on saying
special somethings, so surprised but sure
it was sizably substantial when you swore to sustain
slowly slid into surface surroundings
slipped up in the slightest
now straining every second
for the splendor of a 2nd shot
stagnant on a strange slip-sliding slope
I suppose I'll spin around someway
in spirit of being sick of such strong strides
away from small smiles
smart on shying away
searching, survalliencing, scrutinizing
on your street, what did I seek?
swelling in salvation
sweetness starvation
semi-stable
stint
a state of standard stalemate without a start
stopped
still scarred, scared, and scattered from
lack of sanctions succeeding no strive to stay
no struggle, no strife
secondhand symbols and seducing sentiments 
sincerely whisper-spoken secrets
surrendering of security
suffering serious setup
some sorted sorry, shoddy story
sappy
just subtract each stupid saturday and sunday 
spent heart swollen swooning in supreme sublimity
sheepish star struck sucker
spiraling seaward
a somewhat spineless and spruced up 
subpar see-you-later
still shook up from the ship off
spread thin and stooped low 
to substitute socializing
seemingly
suspicious sunset and suspended sunrise
spontaneous or selective, skilled and strategic 
sting of a soon stranger
stillness sufficed
spoken solemn and sullen self seclusion
silently spacial society
swallowing shallowness
spent screaming shameless
sinking from all that was stolen
suddenly scrap all that you saved
swiftly sacrifice sanctuaries
sauntered then sallied to success in secular sainthood
scheming such spotty 
scrupulous strict stringent schedules
shooting for the sky
s e p a r a t e.

Have Ruined

try to get that I repeat to myself others have ruined me until no other thoughts are there


the way that you stared, can't slide my fingers in anyone else's hair


the words that you shared, trying to replace that void is more than I can bear


the way things go, to the common outcome I got uncommonly wise


space in my heart, shadow under my eyes


I'll feel fine once I rise
but

Chalked Up

And all my reactions and responses get chalked up to regrets. 
I never know how to act or what to say except 
I thought to tell you you seem to be a compilation of the best parts of everyone I've met. 
I'll still hate myself even when those around me bring me to the point of elation. 
But I'll still pull myself out when I get plunged deep, in humiliation. 
It is just a long road I'm facing. 
And you know it gets even darker at night, and I've always liked an end in sight. 
I'm just grateful for those friends amidst my plight. 
Especially when I come to realize my angst is foolishly trite. 
My love for those who keep stride is strong, when I'm only dragging my feet. 
I hope that I will surpass those who display their worst aspects 
in everyone I meet.

Love Poem

""

Sound

  "Laughter is the only sound left I can make that people will understand."

A Wider Variety

  Breadth of fresh air.            

Keep Company

             "It's a very upsetting thing indeed to keep company with people who do not understand what I'm saying. Or why. Or when I do not have the words to say them."

I Am Pretending To Sleep

I have myself too worked and figured out that it's really so off-putting, I can hardly watch myself react to things (the way I know I will). I promised myself this morning that my life will be filled, purposefully, with positivity and with a happy outlook. Night fall changes things I guess, I feel medium. This morning I wrote: It is not fake, petty, or on the surface just because it is happy and easy. It is not completely meaningless simply because you are talking about the present, versus the past. Your secrets do not define you. Your recovery is not a path, or a deep dark hole that you must now try to shamefully crawl out of. Maybe I just grew out of those thoughts. What I wrote at work was regarding the people who keep me company in my head. How my mind never wanders because it needs not to, it is where it wants to be. My head is with whom it wants to spend time with, my body quite the contrary, but whatever. I found a work receipt paper in the compartment in my car. I wrote yesterday about some vitality or something or other about deliberate words and listening to whispers. I am new today. This afternoon before work I planned on writing about how today was a good day because I got a second goodbye hug, in one goodbye. Later today I thought to write upon how I ruin all of my favorite things so well, because I think the second hug means that it got so uncomfortable subsequent to the first hug and how I make people linger, and stay on and on. How I make everything about something else, something bigger and something me. And I want to tell everyone how I care, invest, and give emotionally too much, and I'm either spilling my guts or slamming my door shut. I crave that deep, raw, emotional level and force it in situations, and how I want everyone to know, it comes natural, and just please deal with me slow. I need to warn everyone that I am the most sensitive vessel, a body embodying every single emotion contradicting and combining and blinding me to the reality so plain and trite. I was going to write earlier about this dream I had, until I realized it was too damn sad, today I intended to pretend glad, it seemed only fair, even with no one here. So the dream last night was about how this person comes bursting in the door of my house, I'm in the living room, but it was really that person's in real life. I was just like happy to see them coming in, until I realized they were angry, and bewildered, pressing me, with questions about this thing they assumed that I did, and I really did not at all, and I was frustrated. The words were about how they just knew it was me, and I stormed off after saying loudly about how I was actually pissed off (that they would EVER think that I would leave a note saying such a thing). I walked into the other room, and the dream-me is thinking how it was nice to be mad instead of sad, and I relished that moment, being anything but down. When I came back, I said they should know better, they should fucking know me better, I believe I was cursing. That person said they just figured it was me, then very slowly came to think about how the last letter I left was so innocent and kind, and I was pleased to see that person finally seeing me in the accurate light. It was not about the tiny scrawled note. Whatever it may have said. There was no apology for being misunderstood, and all the feelings and decisions based off that incorrect assumption. I felt empty. Until I awoke feeling guilt and shame, for what my mind makes to comfort me at night. I felt sad when I woke up, because the resolution of the dream, no matter how loose and meaningless, it was what I always want to happen in the end, of everything. The dramatics of the situation, then a resolution proving me pure in intentions, and loving but misinterpreted. I'm hiding in my room. Debating whether it's worse to be asleep, or imitate sleep. I am so terribly exhausting, but not the right kind, to sleep.
"GHOST ARE HAUNTED, WE ARE NOT."

Highest

"One should never direct people towards happiness, because happiness too is an idol of the market-place. One should direct them towards mutual affection. A beast gnawing at its prey can be happy too, but only human beings can feel affection for each other, and this is the highest achievement they can aspire to."

Power Struggle

""

It's Not Clever Lonely Or Interesting Lonely

"It’s ‘lonely lonely’ 
like the way it feels 
when you’re being 
hugged by someone 
and it somehow 
makes you sadder."

We Think Happened

“Life is rarely about what happened; it’s mostly about what we think happened.”

Looking

"You think you can love someone just by looking at 'em?"