One Wish

There is always truth in accidents made.
Have a great night, I hope that you're safe.

Muses of Horror: This Temporary Life

The effort is always worth the binder,
The assurance that I'll always find her:

The silent workings of before
The colored mountains and the shore
The summer parties pooled in cars
The fires, blankets and the stars
The movie on the TV screen
The warmth under a shedding sheet
The freshness finally coming out
The sighs and smiles and eager shouts
The magnet of my every word
The Brand New night kept undisturbed
The running over, mine was better
The scent that's left on scarf and sweater
The proper noun for your escape
The stains I left despite a plate
The car that pushed for hands to hold
The alcohol and matching rose
The fallen petals mixed in with tears
The very depth of darkest fears
The bandage over heavy wounds
The living backwards before June
The catapult that brought it back
The righteousness and sneak attack
The settlement of déjà vu
The brittle riddle, me and you
The snowflakes falling in the dark
The truth enthralling, drawing, stark
The rope that's given hidden slack
The unknown guest who taunts me back
The reiteration, louder this time
The new moon whispers in my eyes
The burning yearn sufficed, now stable
The picture perfect on my table
The broken leg that tried to hide
The falling break on other side
The carpenters: two, the credit of one
The blinding in the brightest sun
The sudden tug of shoddy rug
The certainty of metal slugs
The cold that branches from the spot
The hypocrisy of lessons taught
The intentions more than actions made
The latest nights waiting for age
The displacement of pace and trust
The best that's just not good enough.

The purple side,
The catfish pie,
And all the hazards of love,
All that I fear to mention here,
And all of the above.

After Sleep, Before The Sun

I let my door shut with no guts to go lock it
With the best comfort found in the lint of my pockets,
A self-preserved warmth that is worn bitter sweet.
Come on, baby boy, just go back to sleep...

Subtle Unrest

The quake of what was misunderstood,
Aftershook in the nooks in which it settled
With the permanent carvings of sharp metal
On soft fragrant wood.
These clocks go round,
The story's retold.
And crashes with the dishes
And splashes ice cold.

Inhale quick and pause stiff,
Eyes wide ajar.
Names, dates and places turn into scar tissue.
They are issued unorderly on our porcelain story
In faint and dark cracks in its beauty and glory
That is not coming back.
They drowned in clay oceans;
Unevenly stacked.

I'm burnt on the beacon that guides our ship
While watching your name by a tiny blip.
Your Morse is coarse and of course you know.
You failed your own course to lecture in show.
Never a care to walk on your tips
And I'm carefully aware of our public quips.

So okay, to my dismay, with a quick moving on.
Excitement in your eyes,
Pride in your stride,
Unsettled by the meddling
In the back of your mind.
And rather, you are flattered
And your swagger, still strong.
There are cards I could play,
But I let you go on.

Instead,
I built a house
Called Home,
But felt,
In only me,
In my mind's nest,
Though lonely,
At very best.
I'm falling,
I'm falling!
But doing my best.

in (love)

We do not need a god to fear, because we will destroy ourselves in the end, and the biggest mistake that we will ever make is having fallen in love again.

Fitting Fire, Fitting Rain

Wherever you are, the world is still real.
Lips, hands, intentions are not set apart
And I can still feel a double-edged sword
Cut right through my heels.
Intentions are sharp and snap tensions in nerve,
I cannot run and you don't deserve
The peace, that you took as I fell on my knees.
Intentions invented with no blame on me.
I am not to blame,
Except for the fakest smile I've ever made.
You'd be crazy to think I'm alright,
And by woe,
You should know from a last summer's night.
Everything hurts,
And your epic redemption
Just made all things worse.
I can't find the rationale this time around.
Where are my angels?
Stuck on the ground,
Playing pretend,
While I'm watching great things come to an end.

Counting Crows In The Early Morning

One tear goes to an unaltered life,
But mix me three heavy ones this time.
This is the first time I've used this right.
I couldn't tell you what my mind has concocted
Screaming "M.A.D." with every gun cocked.
Keeping,
Keeping everything locked
But leaving everything sheltered and stocked.
Puddles aren't deep, but still you're surprised,
You're aware of the color in only your eyes.
Guilt and Pride,
What a concept to ever get right...
And I still don't know how I'll fall asleep tonight.

8:58

It was throwing my morals against the wall
I cannot resist the call of pride,
Of seeing how quickly you can hide
A monster.
Keep it inside,
Keep it in time,
Keep it or weep as you get pushed aside.
But frankly, it ain't me,
I'm no one thirty-five,
But a full pound in one night
In two seconds under nine.

The Center of the Universe

A low moon scraped against haunting trees
With dead finger tips grasping.
Our eyes were gasping for light
As we walked through the cemetery at night,
Searching for a ghost with no grave,
Wondering if ourselves could be saved.
But there is only sound as a result
Of self-afflicted blindness
And knees on the ground.
We are driving now,
Blurred light from the dash
And the ash-colored pavement
Press against my retinas.
The bent antenna puts static in the songs,
And I can still feel their bodies,
Limply hanging on.

New Face

Man triumphs in synthetic,
Prophetic in shallow eyes
Who want permanent disguises
So we don't know whose lie is whose.
And different faces
Are preceded by traces
Of medical marker and polished shoes.
You can borrow the sorrow I lend
When self-portraits past
Replace mirrored glass
And expressed emotion is only pretend,
Because you lost yours for a couple cents.
They are gods, but only in a human sense,
Molding plastic,
Holding souls,
Then letting go,
She's getting old.

Sleepless

Sometimes I think that I'm dreaming in reverse
And I'm trying to pull myself out of the dirt.
Asking the grass for the skin on my bones
Shaking the worms out to find a new home.
Hollow eyes wide open,
Hoping to find who tore my soul and body apart.
But a sudden itch behind my ear,
Reveals a memory I held so dearly,
Clearly one of the few intact.
In fact, it's you who had my heart.
Wrapped in gold foil,
A promise's encasing
And I suddenly lost my need for chasing.
With my bones all disjointed,
I slipped back in lawn sheets,
My heart left unstartled,
No longer mine to keep.
Its pace in my chest would surely make it melt
Like your sweetness, a chocolate
With richness unbound.
The sound safely harboring your rhythmed responses,
A radio frequency with only your song.
Because sometimes it seems like you're only listening
But I'm content, in the end
You are what I've been missing.

Rainy Day Hair

I'm breaking the rules a little bit
Because who knows if these pumps will ever quit
Crossing these fault lines,
Dumping their sop lines,
That you loved to hate
And I loved to create
This picture pitched by a pitcher of smiles
Keeping connections across thousands of miles,
Over mountains and streams
And both of our screens.
I hope you don't mind if we stay for a while,
Cozy while we doze off in our separate beds
With our separate hearts in our separate heads
Stringing together through fingers and thumbs
Patiently waiting for time to just come...

Relay: 1

Possibility is a collection
Of one-address stamps
And planting great trees
With only one branch.
Growing rings upon rings
Of ink blotches,
Hot chocolate,
And notes for three rings.
Playing courier-catch,
Consistently matched,
With what our minds hatch
And what our hearts sing.
Stability is eager with nothing to write
But with potential,
Credentials for hope in my eyes.
It's mixed in with sleep,
Beauty once it's in sight,
And hands full of prayers
For peace through the night.

A New Winter Coat

In quiet nights it whispers on,
Trying to find just where it belongs.
Tapping on windows,
Tangled in hair,
Or laughing, just happy
With floating in air.
Caressing the wind
With unique ice stitches.
It softly sits on my shoulder
Giving me kisses,
But making me colder.
Though once I've found a shelter in light,
It softly melts and says goodnight.
Your entire life becomes where you go
When you are fresh snow of a new winter coat.

Minutes Before It Matters

I've checked my sheets
For what I've done wrong
Retracing sleep paces,
One step by one.
There's no dirt in my step,
No blood on my hands,
So who dare puts
Broken glass in my sand?
A coloring book to the colorblind
Will always be in black and white.
I'm dreaming on dominoes,
Consecutive nights,
Trying to tuck these covers in tight.

Stepping Into Puddles

Your words could have been
The cup in my hands
Quick, without the chase
The worst kind of robber.
Disguised ever so well,
But with no demands to tell.
The wind has a voice
And you are its breath,
To go and to come
And become nothing less.

Imagining Everyday

Rinse, repeat,
My body is clean.
A smile of glee is slapped on my face,
Hard enough to wake up
And pick up the pace...
I pick up the vase,
A sea of crystals on the ground
I let out a lazy, mortal sound.
We're always running towards the horizon,
You bet, set to get whatever our eye's on.
Breaking through the tape
Your mind's video plays everyday,
A new ground is paved.
Your senses are saved for now.
You can open your eyes
When you've shown me how you've changed,
When thought is then bought and put into play.

The Direction of Perfection

It started with an idea,
Pushed by the inertia
Of a utopia lived vicariously.
A future for something greater than me,
But all-inclusive as well
Building a ladder to climb out of this hell.
The mind's glistening haze
Gets richer and fatter,
A fair trade.
A day ablaze in a lightning daze,
Routine as seen on future's face:
Infinite steps.
It's the journey that makes it
And takes me to rest.

Because Consciousness Is Not Permanent

A prefix overused
For twisting stubborn knobs
That twist back or not at all,
If never used
Or pursued in falling.
Calling out the colors
That painted my emotions
Red and green for stopping motions,
Painting pictures incomplete
Reminding of the obsolete.
Complete the circle one more time
The conscious choice was never mine,
Surface up when best dressed down
The sound of striking, venom strong.
And with my poisoned mental lungs
I'll say I miss it all.
I said I miss it all.

The Gravity, Regardless...

Will I grow gray
Spending my days
Knocking on their door,
Screaming things they know
Rain or snow
Rain or snow,
Coming fast towards a red light,
As blind as justice
As blind as this trust is
To break my own benediction
And work with what I've got,
As closeness gives us friction
And makes these waters hot?

Needing Symmetry To Leave

We're scaring the darkness out of the night,
Out with our light,
The fire in our hearts
When we burn this pure oxygen
So we won't get us lost again.
Hello, cutesy smile,
Salutations, sunshine!
You're looking alright...
Congratulations on life.

Stepping Backwards, Then Turning to Face the Night.

I've done this too many times before.
A setting sun's lashes put eyes to the floor.
Her gravity pulls me away
From a door I've once taken
That pushes to stay shut.
"Come back!" said the crests,
Crashing white with the fright
Of accepting the flight that I'll inevitably take.
My thumbs are the breakers
On which her tears can break,
As the waning waves comb her hair made of sand
After I reread chapters, a pen in my hand.

Linked!

There's fog on the rear window,
Only frosted light shines through.
This is our truth.
This is our youth buckling,
We are the sucklings of maturity
Squeezing the purity out of
The prick on a finger.
We sucked the poison
Right out of the stinger
And I thank God that
You woke up this morning.
So in this fit of emotion,
We make the good and bad commotion,
And the notion is that
We'll both land on our backs,
I look in your eyes and find an explosion.

Mother is going to take care of you...

My day doesn't exist without you,
According to you.
Child, I'm too old to play.
Your head spins
With the world you've made around it,
Like how you hurl yourself
Carelessly from the swings.
Oh, the thoughts that go on
When you don't hear a thing.
So I'm putting razorblades
At the bottom of the slide
To cut to the chase.
There are things I can't hide
That you can't seem to find.

Tentative Roof

Here we are again,
I, attentive, quiet,
Enjoying the riot of a sword fight between
Stainless steel and porcelain.
Your mouth sparkles with flint
As the pockets in your eyes
Get cluttered with lint.
Meanwhile, a cloud hisses
As it fills in the air,
Challenged by the charge
Of the static in your hair.
A beauty retained when we are alone,
But gone with a wick licking over the stove.

Trudy Without A Sense of Direction

You should be the last
To tell me how I should hold glass.
Are there just a pair of black gloves in the front seat?
I know you've been good at following directions,
But somehow, it's so hard
For you to read these signs.
You have the light,
But I don't want the stage.
Just remember who was turning the page
In the dark, with a flashlight
A something you held tight.
When it first hits your eyes
It gives a dull sting.
You follow,
I swallow,
Remembering things...

Right Eye Twitch

I fought them and lost.
I don't know who you think I am,
Because I'm no fucking superman.

When Creaky Doors Fade To Tacky Walls

After--far too--much deliberation,
Liberation?
Yes.
Some sort of willful resignation
(What a concept-shunned conception)
But I'll keep it brief,
As if you were worth more...
I hope you've found your attention
Whore!

The Most Meaningful Dullness

First you starve out the riches
Then try out the gifts,
Notice how they shift in their seats.
Show this to every single past me
With a smirk on your face,
Because every retraced line
Can always erase,
Like reading these palms upside down
And making the name an improper noun.

Agoraphobia

For all I'm concerned,
We are crowded by ghosts.
We host them and boast
Of the prettiest roses
That we march down the streets,
A fragrant infantry,
Armed with pedals and thorns
That drive in the foreign-born.
They party before parting,
Making trash while getting trashed.
And then it all passes
Before I have mine to say
That traffic and roadblocks are
Not making my day.
...Turn before it closes!
Thanks, Tournament of Roses...

A Decade So Rich That It Spoiled

As if he would ever change
As if he'd be in range
To pick up the signal
That signified his defiance.
Unaware of his share
Of flaunting noncompliance.
He never learned how to ask
For he always received,
A decade betrayed
From some jealousy seeds.