There will always be bad days and sad days and blue days
there will always be lonely too little of you days
there will always be dull days with nothing to do
but the best days are always spent dreaming of you.

There will always be love hiding just out of sight
There will always be searching for meaning and light
There will always be moonlight and lone whistle cries
but I'd trade all these wonders for one of your smiles

There will always be longing for far distant lands
There will always be words flowing out through these hands
There will always be friendship both steadfast and true
There will always be me, may there always be you.

Chisel me away
I've given you the hammer and all my weak points
So you start
With little strength starting with all my ligaments and joints
You don't tear them
Very precise and careful like you know exact what you're doing
I should've learned from the past
Even though everyone tells and teaches not to take it with you
How can i forget when its in repetition and tied to the strings on my shoes
I have adapted to the hurt
Or lack there of
The sight of you doesn't make me sick anymore
Just an itch in the back of my throat that i still can't stand
You didn't rip out my heart or make me question who i am
You just simply made me feel like i wasn't worth it
Or anything at all
Dirt beneath your feet
I've dug through every inch of my body and ripped out your disease
Burned the bridge that connected our hearts and minds
I hope you do the same
As methodically and perfect as me
Because when you're digging through old love notes i don't want you to feel a thing when you find
Any residue of my feelings
Because they were a mistake
A mistake not so grave
You weren't the best or the worst
Just somewhere in the middle
Very forgettable
In all you're insecure self loathing beauty
You know my nature and all i stand for
A deliberate betrayel that i seen from a mile away
The itch is gone
And so are you

I determine to die loved.
Even if it is only
by myself.

Poison.
The words flowing from your mouth,
and with each dose I become more and more impaired.
With each dose life slips
from my once warm body.
The thought of one more word
drives me to bizarre extremes,
extremes that are even too
extreme for the most extreme
Extremes!
Congratulations.
You've done it,
you've broken me down so far,
even I, don't know where I've gone off to.
You won't find me on a milk carton,
on the news,
or any plastered up posters across town.
In fact you won't find me at all.
I've gone missing, yes.
But I'm very much still here.
Hanging onto every word.

There is a quiet whisper
in the corner of my mind
it speaks to me on dark days
when the sunlight I can't find

It speaks of secret hatred
wrapped up in friendship's ruse
and though I try to fight it
my will it soon subdues.

I struggle in my silence
hiding all behind my smile
no emotion breaks the surface
as I tell the world "I'm Fine"

There is a quiet whisper
growing quickly to a scream
as I weave a noose of secrets
bringing end to foolish dreams.

Give me a man with a beard and tattoos
a passion for books and a love of the blues,
a sharp sense of humour, his outlook carefree
and a belly that jiggles, no six packs for me. 

Give me a man who can't help but sing,
who sees beauty in raindrops and other such things,
one that laughs at my faults and excites at my plans
one that's proud to tell everyone that he's my man.

Then I'll give him a woman that smiles oh so proudly
and proclaims love undying from rooftops, quite loudly
I'd take care of him as he takes care of me
a happier duo you never will see.

Send him my way tightly wrapped in a bow,
I'll handle with care and unwrap nice and slow
this gift from the heavens sent here from above,
then I'll drag him upstairs and near **** him with love.

These are all just bad beginnings
in my search for a show-stopper,
a jaw-dropper,
trying to be just the right balance
of sarcastic and lovely,
the right balance of writer
that I idealize and am not,
of course,
what am I, a narcissist?

I'm trying to put into words
the feelings I told you I danced
because they are wordless (spaceful)
and because of you
I have to say them with voice;
what a dilemma is this--

That when I tell you with movement
what I can't say
you put me in the place
of having to voice it and now
I have no words
other than bad beginnings.

So is that it?
When I word to you
instead of dance for you (for me?)
what you have to return is a nothing,
a less-than-nothing saying,
saying nothing, leaving me

hurt and confused because
maybe there was a something
in all your nothing that I can't find--
because we are dealing in words now,
and I'm a movement reader.

And I know I will forgive you for this
but I won't forgive me for knowing that.

Even while I'm still so angry, it just reveals
my pathetic (patient?) desperation for your love,

But I didn't say this right.
I need to move (dance) this.

Summer's warm currents retreat
the advancing brisk amber sunsets.

Submerging the world under
the reign of enduring starry nights.

The maples blush as Autumn whispers
the gentle lullaby of Winter's sweet breath.

Erasing Summer's memory with a crimson brush
preparing the golden landscape's long frigid rest.

~~~

With regards to Thomas Sayers Ellis*

Look at the
    Lucent lava lamps,
Dark craters
    Hiring hands.
We walked,
    Mimicking magma.
Hot, why is
    This heat?
Forget Vulcan
    And his illusion
Of kaleidoscopes,
    A rip tide
On the shore
    Of our conscious minds.
We held fire,
    Pretending to swim
Underground,
    But only out
Of pure respect.
    Some had boots
Made with
    The clippings
Of funky tripwire,
    Others wore suits
With goggles
    Clamped to their faces,
Gripping like
    Bay Area earthquakes.
One-by-one,
    Jang-strangs were
Attached to us and
    Hurled into the Pit
With rhythmic rituals,
    Waves of S and P
Flailed away
    Like flags.
One nation
    Under a new.
No one looked away
    From the fiery daze.
No one wept.