You think you deserve that pain but you don't*

and yet I still turn the dial
in the shower
to make the water
burn my skin

Am I a puppet of a woman,
or a woman of a puppet?

There's a city in front of you
and all you can see
is how crooked the buildings look
and their *****, rotten teeth

I see everything all around
and everything in between
and it's all stunning to me.

When I'm by myself I'm often
Happy and sad at the same time, and it's nice and
Yet, I never know how to feel good about it

Darling, Dear, Honey, Sweetie
I hate all of these names, even in my
Dreams

I don't know how to feel good about

What I've done, should I have remained
Anonymous to you, not for your own good
I'm far too selfish for
That, but for my own good because I'm

Selfish enough for that, but I don't know if that's a bad thing
Or if I would want to care about you more than myself

Late at night when I can't dream
Or whe there's too much dream about, I have
Nightmares while I lay awake. So I'll stay awake until it's time to say
Good Morning

Sometimes I see the world as if I were a tower.
Not looking down on things, for I have no chin,
and not seeing the things below at all.
My eyes are the tallest story windows
and no people can upset me
all I see are the clouds and the birds and
the other tower people gazing mindlessly.

Outlines of necklines
I would never wear

Shadows against grass blades
creating patterns on our backs

Scars of the past
for new nails to scratch

I can still feel energy in us,
it's pumping my blood.
I'm not tired yet.

But if your energy pumps my blood
away from us and onto the shore,
I can't stop it without creating a hurricane.

So lay yourself to rest on the beach.
Let your mind rest, too.
Forget about me.
Wade in the water when your ready.

I know you prefer the crashing water
when it's closer to your ankles,
I just wish you could hold your breath long enough
to swim through the depths of my non-rushing blood.

Squashing bugs with cigarette butts
and dancing with mannequins.

Finding movement
in a sea of stiff limbed darlin's.

I normally wouldn't do this
but I'm different than before
and you told me this
as if I didn't know, but It's true
because I didn't know
that I'm different in ways
I never wanted to be.

I'm obsessive and possesive
but let me tell you
I disagree
But it doesn't matter what I think
because you will always think
that I'm obsessive and possesive
and maybe I am.

Although this makes me sad
because obsessive and possesive
are things I never wanted to be
But let me tell you
it's not the saddest thing about this thing

What makes my heart sink
is not what you think
but what you like best
and what you like best
takes a needle to the balloon in my chest
because what you like best
is the old me.

You like me best when I hate me
So I guess I can give you a call
Whether that is when I hate me
or when I ain't me
I don't know
But I'll let you know.
Either way,
I'll give you a call
when I fall.

In the end
it all comes down to the fact
that I still listen to your music
despite how it makes me feel.

The spaces between my thoughts
is where I crouch---
          holding my breath.
You screeched, "Ready or not, here I come!"
and I must have been ready
because I'm still hiding
in those tiny spaces between my thoughts.

I think of thoughts and meanings
and how they mean nothing

Things are simple,
just to an extreme

The ground digs into my sacrum
and I can't get up

*Just a bunch of young folks
whistling about happiness

There's a cauldron that sits in the basin of my chest
brewing up potions
whether they're poison or medicine
I never know
but I feel it boiling, bubbling slow
either result is magical
black or white
Right now it's as clear as the bubbles it makes
and they're coming out of the holes in my face
They pop in my ears
I blow them out of my mouth
they leak out of my eyes
and make puddles on the ground.

Nostalgic of the days of
embarrassed faces buried in pillows

From the rap CD
to living in this trapped city,
we've created a rhapsody
that nothing less than pretty
could keep from running happily

Eyes can be the worst of enemies
They've had me wading in tears
up to my knees
And now I'm waiting with fears
produced by my greed
and longing for what my eyes have seen

Moving inspiration away from words and
moving deep impressions of intention.
Discussing first, the closing off at the end.
Becoming closed, then opening out.
The second time around it's visible
throughout your body.
The birds flying by were calming when
I followed you, cutting through
a quietly working stream.
People around just go ahead and
movements go even when
the professor killed himself.
I'm reading his poems and backing down,
experiencing his struggle.

The parade is down the street,
Nobody's tossing sweets at my feet,
because there's wet cement on my front step
and my legs are short.

Do you realize
it's so lunar?
Making sounds that don't form words.
And I've tried out the consonants more than once
and all I can hear is the silence--
      louder than any sirens.

Do you realize
that although there's a cyclical melody never ending
I still only hear the silence?
Be my knight in white satin...
     but you can never pull off such an airy fabric.
Even though we're both so lunar,
    we are different oddities in different frequencies.

Do you realize
any of it?

But it doesn't matter
because nobody knows
and nobody cares.

But I guess I'm witit.

Kiss with a moldy tongue
See the ground with a head hung
Grow with a soul still young
Dance to the song yesterday sung

My cinematic eyes
only win oscars
when they're sad.

I now understand
why my windshield wipers
scream in the rain.

Her hand was cold
It was winter and snowy
He was standing on the beach
His hand was warm
She wanted him to warm her hand
But in time it would freeze and get frost-bitten
So she put a glove on it
And another held onto it
If he comes into the snow
she'll take off the glove
and her skin will be untouched
for him to touch.

There's an eye on the back of my neck
and in order to let it see,
I stretch my spine up to the sky;
my nose aiming at the bullseye straight ahead.

I'm scared of what's behind
and I don't want the hauntings to make my eye blind,
so I hang my head
and curve my spine into an arch,
so my my eye can see the sky instead.

I'll get a hunchback from my lonely march,
but my eye will never have to see my past.

He came over over to my house
Soaked up toxins like a sponge
A drunken drive that took an hour
I love him
for coming back to me.
Muffled "Darling" in the morning through
a mouth full of slanderous deception
He brushed my hand
He held it in mine
I stroked his back and traced his shoulder blades
We behaved like the lovers we are
and misbehaved like the children we are
and it was summer rain
and he told me he liked
just lying next to me
and being in the same room
I love him (whatever the **** that means)

A millisecond later
He told me he has someone else
He told me he hopes I **** myself
"I hope you **** yourself"
"I hope you **** yourself"
"I hope you **** yourself"
"I hope you **** yourself"
Maybe I will
but it won't be because of him
He doesn't deserve the satisfaction
of being the reason
why I hope I **** myself

*"A little encouragement for the morning. I have a feeling you'll need it. [He] has stolen enough of your life and energy. This is the time when you become strong and take charge. No more will you suffer emotional damage spewed from him. You're bigger, and stronger than that, even if you don't know it. You are done. Forever. No more. He's gone; erased. You are free."

Squeeze, pull, and twist.
Someday it won't hurt.
You can test me all you want.
But I'll always be unsure
of the pain.

I'm fly by night;
brief, unreliable, and shady.

I miss the heat
that wasn't humid
and the cold
that was
a cool breeze

Come be my cloud
that keeps me comfortable
like you were before

I'm so uncomfortable

I wish I had the reassurance that they were always right behind me.
But I let them go, as they planted their feet into the ground.
I left part of my body attached as the wind pulled me forward,
and now I am sluggish and un-whole.

I let him go tonight and the wind only blows towards tomorrow.

I am waiting for somebody to stretch my skin
The flesh that surrounds my mouth
Take the corners and pull them with force
but they will only bounce back to their place

So try again, but this time bring tools
bring tacks and tape and staples and glue
Anything to sustain this shape that's so new
I only ask this of you because I'm confused

My feelings and desires are never the same
They're above, underground, inflated, and punctured
I can only put my feelings into words this way:

I Wish I Could Feel Good Anymore

The light is so bright that I can't see your face
and your voice is so loud I can't hear what you say
and your touch is so strong that I feel nothing at all
and your words are too small yet too big to hold
You are far too smart, which is why you're so wrong.

Regret for
slipping on cowboy boots
and sitting at your kitchen table

Regret for
allowing you to make me complete,
because it only gave you something whole to rip.

I have the mouth of a whale
so come crawl inside.

I'll eat you up;
wrap your body in my skin
like a tuxedo on New Years Eve
Wear my bow as your tie
and inhale my blood like wine

Dance Freely

Control my mind
and leave some of your mind in mine

When you crawl back out
and walk away, drenched wet in my spit,
you'll leave my skin in the pile of ***** laundry
on your bedroom floor.

It's not so much the light at the end of the tunnel,
but the assurance that there's always light in the morning
after you wake up from a horrible nightmare,
You're just dreaming,
I'm just dreaming of these screeching banshees
Birds will chirp in the morning
A phoenix with healing tears will perch on my bedside
Ready to cry on my heart when I awake.

creativity is sometimes hard to find

but the only way to find creativity

is to be not creative in the first place

if you are already creative

then how can you find the creativity you already posess

discovering creativity

is one of the most rewarding feelings

so let the world be filled with uncreative minds

and let those minds

have the opportunity

to find the creativity

that was hiding

in the depths of their minds.

Everything and nothing all at once
The floor supports this paper
The paper supports this pen
This pen supports my hand
My hand supports my thoughts

The floor supports everything
It catches us when we fall
We should love the floor without fear
Even though it's hard... it doesn't mean to be, I swear
We should understand that
the floor will always be there
If we fall through, there will be another ground

Even if it is far away
and if our breath is caught with the fall
we were still supported, just a little too late
The ground just wanted to be there
and it was.

We take it for granted
It doesn't mean to hurt us
It's always there.

The floor and I play the trust game.

You always bring out the mess in me

The mess that has been collecting dust deep down


You rip it out of me and place it in my hands

For me to wipe clean

So I can look at my reflection and witness my flaws

That have been suffocated by pillows

You give my mess oxygen and allow it to breathe

The mess I have worked so hard to ******

But as it rests in my palms

I realize the innocence that could have died

The beautiful mess that makes me ugly

Is what you would rather see

So now when I see my reflection

I'm looking at the beautiful mess you've made of me.

The day finally came
when the sky is light at midnight
I wish you would hold me like you used to
because you're the only one that knows how to hold me right
but you found someone else that you want to hold
because it's light at midnight
and my everything's gone
and I'm just some **** that you used to know
that you don't know is still alive
that you don't think about with your tongue in her mouth

Not a doubt in my mind
that I can't go on

Forever waiting for my decrepit friend
with my heart nailing my spine to the earth.
I need this Cimmerian Shade to remind me
that this isn't how things determinedly end.

...and I read the news and still feel uncomfortably serene,
despite the dead heroes and all the entitled people.
There's no luck anymore, just a fistful of my abysmal choices,
and I'm kidding myself if I think I haven't always been the antagonist of this epic journey.

...and all I challenge you is to come over and waste some life with me
and to blindfold me from your behavior like a child that's convinced of unicorns.

...and my cheeks smolder with my incinerating charcoal soul.
I suffer as I admit my desires and my charcoal soul will continue blistering until its substance is melted and twisted like wax.

...and I was captured in a landslide that only I can palpate,
curious as why nothing has seen me being removed ever so slowly,
like it's my undying fate.

I'm summoning everybody I know and everybody I don't,
to the races to see how fast I can run with my wounded spirit.

Place your bets.
Beat the odds.
Get lucky

I'll run my hands
through my wet and clean hair
to scrub away the blood
crusting under my fingernails.

Waking up to an ellipsis
from a phantom
and wondering if it's
a dream or a nightmare.

Everybody is psychotic
in this unbalanced neon creation
some would call the universe

And nobody gives a **** about you


Especially you.

I never had an interesting cover
and the title on my spine is old and peeling
and people don't publish reviews about me anymore.

Ain't got no one,
and I could tell you
that I don't need anyone,

but I'd be lying.

As the rain dives onto my window,
it puts its mouth up against the glass
and screams the unnerving truth;

I am long passed being somebody's rose
I've been picked and left to be pressed in a book
I don't have roots to keep me stable in the ground as the wind blows
I've been dried out and left to die.
Forgotten.

Look at the stars
and try to tell me
That a sheep doesn't know
the taste of a rose.

Giving into the surfaces
allowing them to support me.

I'm sliding down
and leaning upon
and collapsed.

You're the Harold to my Maude,

Bad timing...

Except we've both died a few times
and now neither of us is living.

So I guess we're two Harolds
and we both wanted to be Maude.

Funk is just a mixture of jazz and hip-hop.
Jazz is just a mixture of ballet and modern and funk.
Modern has a little ballet in parallel with release.
It's all the same to me.
It's movement.

I wait so long, I wait so long
Now all I say is 'So long, so long'
to all my future lovers
'cause I don't want no other

I look at her, shouldn't look at her
'cause I don't see myself in her
And I'm just being honest all the time
I'm scared of being honest all the time

Don't want to be like all the others
but they're all I think about right now
I hang around with all these lovers
I think about you and when and how

I challenge fate, I challenge fate
'Cause fate is something I create
for our current predicament
our unfortunate predicament

Don't want to be a mess like this
but I am sad and broken down
It's not supposed to happen to me like this
but I gave you the tools and showed you how

It's oh so cold, I feel so cold
I feel bitter, I feel so old
I search for a sugar-coated treat
to turn the bitter into something sweet

Something sweet, something sweet
You really are my something sweet
and I understand, I understand
Just wish I could walk with you hand in hand

Hand in hand, hand in hand
want you to hold my untouched hand
for now I'll wear a glove on it all the time
so nobody puts their hand on mine

and life goes on and on and on
It just keep flowing on and on
and I droan on and on and on
I don't want to move on, move on

This is my left hand.
It met Mr. Right.
He was your right hand.
They fit together just right.
But Mr. Right hand left
And now my left hand
doesn't know
how to be left alone
now that Mr. Right isn't home.

I try so hard
I try all the time
I try
but I don't try to do something
I try to do anything

I try so hard
to be anything
I try to be me
but I'm not myself at all

I try to be different
but not from anybody else
I try to be different from somebody
I try to be different than myself

I try to be honest
I try not to be false
I try to be true
I try to be you

I try to hate you
I try to create you
I try to be different than you
because I try not to
try to be you

I try so hard
I try all the time
I try to decide what
I try to do

I try so hard
to be something effortless