I catch glances
As I walk through town
Daughters
Out with their mums
Who pretend to look off in the arbitrary distance
As I scan them
From top
To toe
And then the glances of their proud mums

Old women who huff
As I have the demeanour
Of a stargazing ******

The odd freak
Who cheers me on with his eyes

Machos, who like to hold the gaze
Which I like to hold right back
Thinking of my father in a coffin
To return a calm, worrying stare

Sometimes a fleeting beauty will appear in a metro window
And both knowing of the ephemerality of our encounter
We **** with our eyes
Before she is whipped off
Down the dark tunnels

I can hold a gaze with almost anyone
People are fascinating

I can hold all these gazes
Until
Some men stare back
And I melt

There’s something about you that
makes me want to write
        bad poetry
and half-assed short stories.  

Something about you that
makes me want to take all my
unspoken words and turn them
into something beautiful,
something worthwhile.

You make me want to be an artist
like Van Gogh or Sylvia Plath;
you make me want to create.

Maybe it’s that blue wave
that crashes down like
an incoming tide on the beach—
        your eyes
when you look at me in
a certain way, in
a certain light.

Or maybe it’s
the way that you say
my name and then say all
those horrible things that make
me want to rip something
        open.

Those words that rip me open.

You make beautiful stanzas get stuck in my
head like lyrics to a bad pop song;
I can’t erase them and the
only way I can think of to cope with it
is to write them down like a schoolgirl
with a well worn diary.

I think I might as well have hypergraphia.

I am an unprofessional
medical doctor with
a pen, paper, and
Word Document
suffering from a form of
verbal ***** because I
can’t possibly think of a way to
        speak my mind.

I think I would make a very good mute.

I wish I lacked a voice box
because then I wouldn’t have to
be the one that has to
say all the right, comforting things
at the all the right times
and all the right places.

Sometimes it feels as if I’m
being eaten from the inside out
by some sort of paratrophic organism
that sits atop my frontal lobe and
dictates my life and fluctuates my
anxiety and I can’t even think about
some things anymore because of this
nervous clench I get in my gut when
I let my thoughts get too jumbled.

But you—you make me want to write
the most heartfelt and sappy sentences
and you make me want to
be more than just ordinary.

You make me want to be extraordinary.  

I guess that what I’m writing is
an apology in the shape of
a few stanzas and a few metaphors.

And this is an “I forgive you” for that night
that we spent outside your house
arguing over the stupidest of things,
so stupid that I can hardly
remember a single word I said to you.

Nothing gratifying is ever
painless to obtain
and I want to be a fighter like
Hercules or Alexander the Great.

I want to be extraordinary with you.

Death Threat

Hello ***** prepare to die,
you know the reasons and the why.
Your life, I plan on taking,
this is no joke, I'm not mistaking.
I hate your ******* guts,
when arrested, they will think I'm nuts.
Chop you up into little pieces,
then send them to all your favorite nieces.
Say goodbye to everyone you know,
because pretty soon your blood will flow.
You took my soul, heart and my pride,
now I will have to run and hide.
You took my clothes, food and my money,
stop laughing *****, this **** ain't funny.
You took my house, car and my boat,
revenge will be mine, that you can quote.
You took my drugs, beer and my pills,
I'm going through withdrawal and getting the chills.
You took everything that I own,
your mind is about to be blown.
I now live in the street,
people in cars throw me food to eat.
It get kinda cold late at night,
this is my death threat to you, that I write.
I'm at the point of no return,
a cruel lesson you must learn.
I hope you enjoy these last few hours,
your grave will deserve no flowers.

Hey everyone have you heard the news.
Someone has loosened all my screws.
Some might say I'm cuckoo for cocoa puffs.
I may be crazy but I need no cuffs.
Weird I am but in a good way.
When I talk, I always spray.
Mentally ill people call my strange.
My brain just needs an oil change.
Nothing wrong with being unusual.
My feelings of you are evenly mutual.
At times I can be very odd.
I can't help that I am God.
Not rich enough to be eccentric.
Not poor enough to be egocentric.
My elevator doesn't go to the top.
As a baby I must have been dropped.
Someone blew out my pilot light.
Never been accused of being bright.
No one on Earth is more flaky.
If I'm nervous, I become shaky.
Its fun being nutty as a fruitcake.
Leave me alone and give me a break.
You might say I'm off my rocker.
To all beautiful girls I am a stalker.
I have never played with a full deck.
Sometimes in my pants, I have a wreck.
Many of my marbles are still missing.
Kids in school were always hissing.
So what it my attic is a bit dusty.
All my brain cells have become rusty.
Even though on walls I like peeing.
I am still a human being.

Can't exactly
Blame a voice
In your head