How ****** it is,* is all
I ever hear about
Things.

So polish the ****.
Put make-up on the
Pig.

On every piece of space-junk
There is a thin film of
Astronaut's

Business,
They tell me.
So look past it.

We're all
Partly
Soil;  

There's crap in everything.
Focus on what isn't.
The Devil's in the

Details, so I suppose
God is in the
Rest.

Show me a sunset.
And don't point
Out

The
Dying
Light.

Or the lack of
Poetry on
A blank

Page. The paper had
Nothing to do with
It,

Nor the night skies with how
The sun came
And

Ruined
It
All.

It's not so bad
During the day
When the sun warms my skin,
And the breeze cools my nerves
When my thoughts are preoccupied
With trivial tasks

Then day turns to night
And the sun lies down to sleep
The moon peaks through my blinds-
Its stark silver light casting ominous shadows

I wonder when I'll see you again

They say that secrets seek refuge in darkness
But I find my innermost fears all the more illuminated

there's an angry voice inside of me
i need to write down
and let loose.
but it only comes out as a whisper.

i use the things i won't do,
like death,
to inspire me for things i try to do,
like being alive.

Whispers and tangled limbs have never felt this electric.
You pull me in, and I feel your lips brushing my earlobe
I tell you I know what you're going to say,
expecting the same joke you usually make
You ask me if I'm positive I know what you're going to say
I assure you I am, and feel your arm wrap around my shoulder,
letting your warmth envelope me
Then I feel the unexpected words
Slip from your lips and collide with my emotions
Brushing against my ear in harmony with your lips
"I'm not sure you realize how beautiful you really are."

They see all the good
    They're torn towards all the bad
             They know what's coming
   But they never look back
          To all they could have had
     They want their justice
              Yet, they leave it to the devil
        Dressed all in black
              With wilted roses
   Tattooed across their backs
           They've fallen,
    Deceived, tortured and abandoned
         Their holy calling
  There's a war raging between
            Their moral stance
       Their inner desires
                And their loyalty
         They never leave life to chance
  These Angels in black
          With wilted roses
       Tattooed across their backs,
Daggers, swords and knives
          Have red stained faces
     And hold the fate
             Of all our lives
       They can feel the shame
    Of this deadly game they play
          Yet, these Angels in black
With wilted roses
        Tattooed across their backs,
    Sacrifice everything for our souls
            Yet, a soul
   Is *all they truly lack

Taking me out to dinner
See the story play out in your eyes,
Said you miss the way I'd lay in your lap,
When I'm not with other guys.

They feel different than you though,
It all tastes the same,
T hey get all tied together,
They're just faces and names.

But you got the lit cigarette out the window,
And words flooding books,
I think I'm getting too old to base love all on looks.

And so I fell asleep on your chest,
In the same car as times before,
Until I woke up to you sighing,
"I don't even know what we are anymore."

Words kept rolling off your tongue,
Escaping your lips,
Like you were holding in all night to tell me all of this.

Said we were always leaving,
Together and then parting ways,
But when would be the time we would both decide to stay?

Now would be my answer,
But you left me on open ends,
So I just paused and you stared at me,
"Babe, are we just friends?"

Four old friends
Dead of winter small town
Germany.
Smoke rising from chimneys
From cigarettes, and pipes
From trains riding the rural rails
From city spires
And factories
From airplanes
Airplanes
and Airplanes,
From Airplanes.
Smoke dancing and laughing
Stinging and coughing
Smoke in my hair and jacket
In the pores of my skin
Smoke in my eyes,
Up the hill
And through the woods
Dead of winter
Small town Germany
Four old friends
Walk two by two
Three by one
Four and four.
Walk by the church,
Down the creek,
Up the hills, the hills
And through the woods
Small town
Germany four old friends
Dead of winter
Cigar smoke and beer
Cigarillos in a chain
Smoke from crystalizing breath
And fireworks
Smoke from bonfires
And tailpipes
Smoke from airplanes
Airplanes and airplanes
Smoke from airplanes.
Smoke stains and cigarette burns
Little circles in my jacket
Germany
Four old friends dead of winter
Small town
Smoke tears
Smoke promises
Smoke memories that linger
Like the faint nausea
Of what-the-hell-has-happened.
I watch the **** end of your last cigarette
Crumpled and fading
In the ashtray of that Badischer bar
And your eyebrow twitched
The heart-wrenching shiver
Of what-the-hell-has-happened.
And I whispered:
(airplanes)
airplanes and airplanes
I whispered airplanes.
That’s what the hell.

I'm laying my ragged twisted
       insides in the ground
   Mourning the death
           As if my soul has gone to hell
    And my heart
             Has died slowly
      And painfully
   But my body
         Is still here
   But hollow and black
        Through and though
Just flowing through
         The paces
   Just waiting for **death

Everyday come
                             Fill me
Reflect off of me, please
                             Days go by
                             Day after day
You used to worship me.
                             Worship my truth.
You came to me like a
                               sinner and
                               spilled all
of your secrets in
                                        me.
I reflect my truth faithfully
                                         back at you.
And you act
                      like i'm
*hell

Too many times
I've been pushed aside
     On the back burner
My whole **** life
         But I wanna be the fire
   That lights your soul
I want a raging, blazing
         Inferno
      Sparking flames
Making changes
        In the chemistry
   A little oxygen
       So I can breathe
A lot of hydrogen
     So you can believe
We're floating on air
        Particles you can't see
      Like love
It's a mystery
            A theory
   Of who's meant to be
And who's left suffering
         That's destiny
     I'm creating
Breaking
     Changing the flames
   Into ashes
And graves
      With no names
Just broken hearts
          On tombstones
     And no chance
*To restart