Wednesday, February 22, 2012

He walked in on me,
I was wrestling with guilt
I needed help, but I wouldn't admit it
Especially not to him
I told him to get out
Even though I wanted him to stay
I had to do this alone
I didn't answer any calls
Because I knew they would all be
overjoyed to hear from me
I stayed inside
I avoided people
I kept my eyes to the ground
I drank every night
I was scared of death
I imagined myself getting hit by cars
I used to work at being something
Now I work at being nothing
Because at least I can't fail
The house howled
the buildings crumbled
I drank my water
I ate some dinner
I made love on the couch
I kissed a forehead
The sky ran...
The florescent light
gave us all cancer
He wanted to throw up
every time he saw you
You smiled with a vengeance
You cried in vain
You forgot all the answers
Nothing became

Friday, February 10, 2012

have you ever felt you couldn't wake up from a bad dream?

I dreamt a dream that I was dreming when I dreamt. 
I can't recall a time my subconcious was as content. 
All the places I remember and what I saw and where I went. 
troubled by remnants of no regret and what that meant. 


The nightmare that occurred in the depths so deep. 
I was unaware how absurd my thoughts could seep. 
merging thru an incomprehensive state. 
to believe the fallacy that I controlled my fate. 

From vivid to ease than one last tease 
my thoughts grew faint just to appease 
The tension lessened as light came in 
I woke to the dark grave feelings I held within.

it just is


i took a slow dive into the lake
i was meek, to luke warm to relate
i hoped the silence was a mistake
the bitter truth too contemplate.

i rose with envy
the thoughts within me . . .

your face compelled me
you shoild have been warned
i am too meger
you were too bold

. . . but truth to be told
you saved me.

this world is cruel
teitter tottering fool . . .
i was then, not now
shallowing to dwell.

changes occur . . .
lack luster. allure.

you are beauty. life.
no more suffering strife.
you are all that it is.
i will always be his

i'm soo bad with titles

i want to write things
from different perspectives.
creatively deceiving
by mirroring objections.
i prefer things contorted
uneasily excepted.
im anti-authoritive
thru lack of deception.



Thursday, February 9, 2012

the flower shop on 9th st.

i pass by almost every day
it doesnt mean shit to me anymore really
the beauty was in the moments that we imagine again
when we rember what it was about each other
that made us smile at corny shit
like flowers
still i pass by all the time
to remind myself of the beautyfull things im capable of
to tell myself
"never lose your beautyfull way"
                    
                         j