Art has escaped me—
drawing inspiration from
your composition

I feel for so long like I’ve focused
on selecting the right words
and stringing them together poetically
my speaking voice has suffered
and word ***** ensues, bits of
chewed up residue from when I
had a coherent thought
I speak in breaks
          pauses
I peruse my inner word bank
and waste time deciding on
which ones to choose
rather letting them flow
as a stream of consciousness

This heat makes my pores perspire,
   makes my skin itch
There’s not enough water to quench
  my internal thirst
Basking or baking—
bubbling, irritated flesh,
deliciously inviting
minuscule beasts to feast upon
The sun beats me,
whacking me with its rays
  melting for half a day’s pay
I’ll be a puddle on the floor
swimming through cracks in
the cement. Work is a
"tradition" I often lament

Instead of for you,
This is for me. I’m allowed
to be selfish once in a while.
I’ve been too hung up on you;
my head has been in the clouds.
I haven’t seen my feet or felt the ground,
but I’m in no rush to get back. My head
is light, it feels clear. My transparent
goals are more visible than ever. I can
almost reach them with phantom limbs.
I’m adapted to the air up here, but
I am still not satisfied. The only thing
that stimulates me other than you
is only felt through my soul. The notes
on this bridge—like the one on your back—
serenade me into delusion I don’t want to
wake from. If I could sing forever, my ears
would be heaven’s gates. Rings that wail,
delay and distort, bouncing from wall to
wall before beating my ear drums and
sending my nerves on a six foot wave
adrenaline foaming at the edge
breaking the tangible, dissipating
the mundane, cracking the film of
reality like a rock against a windshield.
It is calling me, I can hear its echo,
seismically en route to plant the seed.
I must listen — this sound I must heed
My destiny lies within my fingertips,
where all my convictions will seep.

Time has molded each of us
into the perfect shape,
has defined our edges finely,
has smoothed our surfaces so slick so
we may slide into one another
and make a perfect fit.

God, I miss you
  I miss you!
(You miss me more)
but I highly doubt it
Does it ache in your chest
when you think of how warm
my breath is on your lips?
Do your knees tremble and buckle
beneath you after imagining our last kiss?
Do you find yourself squirming
giddily in your seat when you
recall something sweet I said
to you when we were in bed?
Does your skin crawl with
anticipation for our next encounter?
Do your fingers fidget when
the urge to divulge emotion is so
strong you want to punch things?
Do you fight yourself daily to just
keep yourself at bay in fear
of smothering me? Something tells
me by your delay in replies
and your nonchalant guise
that you don’t miss me more
than I miss you.

I’ve realized you
are worth more trouble than I
can really afford.

Sheets of ice are melting
and so is the ice in my glass
I’m drinking it fast so I can spit
words about you, like why are we
doing this dance in sneak shoes?
Why don’t we throw them off and
everyone else and come together
before the caps melt and get
lost in the weather; let’s converge
my high pressure and your low
and blow everything away when
our winds merge and spiral out
of controlling hands—there will be
little sands left to lay, but our plans
will involve nothing and no one
day after day until we drown in
the global flood pooling closer;
if you’re not ready to stay
I guess we’ll die alone
like we’re all meant to anyway

I know you
I observe you
I see you glance,
ignore, set down
your phone
your instrument of connection
I see you evade certain conversations
I know your game,
your technique
I know you
I don’t know
however,
why you tell me things
of great magnitude
if you know me
and how they resonate
and stick with me
I’ve confided in you
my most vulnerable moments
you had a spotlight shining
on my every detail
and used it against me
my skin made of braille
I know you’re not
conniving, just thriving
for the human experience
but I ask, will you think
with your heart
and save room for
a fresh start
rather ******* ****
romances for the last bit
of bitterness
when it’s nothing sweet to
me or you?

I'm sick for your voice.
Hearing my name from your lips
is the only cure.

Exhausted
from feeling
   reeling
peeling away my exoskeleton
of mossy vehemence

Disgusted
from festering
pestering bacteria
leeching my energy
depleting my senses

Desensitized
towards romance
no chance
for me
Sinking
in a swamp
instead of grasping
for relief

Ashamed
for allowing
disavowing
natural instincts
Crying
   dying
internally invaded
by poisonous neglect
  Suicide
by choking on
your spoken words
I kept

Drinking alone can make for good conversation
New things are learned, said or inferred
Who am I speaking to
     and am I heard?
Nature’s beauties surround me
and I’ve killed with neglect
    Unintentional
but always aware
   My lips tingle and my tongue
writhes, my body breathes in
the expulsion of shelved speakers
and my membranes arouse
because I’m redirected to you
   Always to you;
I’d like to hear your voice
but I predict you won’t answer if I call
Following through will result in disappointment
I expected, so why bother?
Predetermination — a convoluted structure
that remains the source of my reflection
   And misdirection
There was a rush of
thoughts like rapid waters
straight to my skull, cracking
  my will to break like a dam
bursting forth with so much emotion
you will drown in it, even if
you hold your breath to infinity

I don't feel like myself today
Maybe I stayed too long in bed
I feel vacant, my soul trailing
lazily over my head
I don't want to Be
               Today
I don't want to see
               Today
Characteristics are gone
               Today
    Only an entity
               Today
I am my own enemy
               Today
I could be my own best friend
but why even pretend
Everything around fills me with dread
I wish I could have stayed in bed
Connections are dead
               Today
Wish that were me instead
               Today
Tomorrow is a short blink away
   I'll open my eyes after
                Today

There is little I can stand
  I grow very bored
for lack of attention span
someone has cut the cord
but I’d rather have it this way
than to leave my gaze swayed
by faces and places replacing
the finer things at which I could gawk
  like side-walk scribblings
executed with chalk
  like ants working busily building
bridges made of leaves
  like envisioning fresh fruits
dangling their bloom from trees
I am not disinterested in the world
  but what the world sees
Ignorance spouting animosity
No understanding or appreciation
for what we really are
  Straight denial
at the idea we come from stars
So hooked onto what is hovering above
judging and toying in return for our love
Are our thoughts really our own?
Are the decisions we make always known?
  I question but never deny
the fact that my life is a lie
Some truths are never told
some mysteries never solved
The world will keep spinning
distractions will keep brimming
until we’ve lost ourselves entirely
and into the universe we dissolve

The only words I
can manage to force are the
ones I want to hide

I want to peel your epidermis
like an orange and garnish it
upon my lips
I want your speckled flesh
velvet smooth
underneath my fingertips
Your soft peach skin
flavor of sweat
smells sweetly of sin
One sniff makes me wet
I love your hands,
supple like cream
spreading generously over me
Pigment means nothing
but how much heat
you can take
Thick skin absorbs force—
how much power
can you make?

Orange sun shining—
pastel petals drip
weeping for warmth
beaming ebulliently after a pour
breathing the scent of petrichor
  blushing sweetly, like after a kiss

Absorbing all the moisture I can
blooming when I'm nurtured
and fertilized just right
  Detoxify my root,
     Oxidize my bliss
   Spreading seeds
semi-annually
and flowering for you

Chemicals in my
brain cause me to fixate on
your bright entity

It travels to my toes and
  tingles my extremities
It’s the peak of an early morning stretch
  the last sensation of a sneeze
It happens when you laugh or
  when I envision your face
It matters not the time or place
I’m left staring at blank walls
  just to picture you
I could write a book of all
  the feelings I want to spew
I anticipate an eruption
to happen rather soon
I fear I may smother you
  in my molten affection
and you’ll run for safety to a
far place for your own protection
And only I, because I too strongly yearned
  will inevitably be the one burned

The sweat hanging from your curls dives
for my nose,      
         scales my cheeks
like salt hugging the shore
Drown me in your liquefied voice, let me drink until
my breath is gone so nothing can compare
         to your splendor
Constrict me you python, swallow me whole
  Let me s
               l
                i
                 d
                   e down your belly
and provide you nutritional value
    I hope I release your oxytocin
I value our bond and your body,
         mind, spirit, soul
I value your existence as a whole
   I miss you when I hear your name
   or when I'm possessed by a beat,
the sheer force of your stare
         So sinister, I am compelled
   to move for you

I’ve had my poise dipped by another wick
and your flicking gaze singes my threading
and I burn slow, spiral hazing up your nostrils
to your system of compounds dictating your
responses and I wait in trepidation for the short
spark in your eyes to fizzle before it strikes me
as an attempt to reignite a dull fuse that’s been
watered down by the waves of passionate chemical
reactions spontaneously combusting for reasons
different from you or I and cannot explain nor deny
the fact my wick for you won’t light

With you, it’s all mechanics.
Engineered reactions, if they register at all.
The gears never stop turning until
you ask me what do I want, and the
only thing I can think to say is
”Not you" so I say I’m unsure.
I lie, automatically. I’ve been
programmed to hide how I feel, but you’re
the engineer trying to fix me, to
rewire my intangible feelings.
I like to play with you, and lay with you.
But I can not see myself staying with you.
I care for you, about you, but I will never
fall in love with you. Your scent fills my nostrils
when we are together, but doesn’t linger
after we part. I want you to stay in my life, but
there is no special den for you in my heart.
My heart is heavy with the absence of passion,
the weight of the guilt bogs down my senses.
I lay lifeless, cold.

Sighing under my breath when
  They appear
I say home is where I’d like to be
  but I’m lying through my teeth
Anywhere else, I’d rather be
  than standing here, scanning,
maintaining smiles a plenty
When in my head, the marquee spins
  I DON’T CARE
about your benefits
about your money peeking from your pocket
about your cabinet installation
about what you spend a year
  I feign stabbing my eye socket
sliding my pointer finger across my throat
  wrapping both hands around it — choke me
  please, help me lose consciousness
so I may be excused from the hustle and
bustle and *******, I’m quitting this
  moment before my chest bursts with the
white hot intensity of condensed nerves and
pity when I look out before me and see
  strangers existing, constantly bewildered
  by everything, looking helpless, lost, frustrated
and the marquee spins
  I DON’T CARE
If I allow myself to connect
If I allow myself in their shoes
If I allow myself to care
  I would become
  one of Them
feeling helpless, lost, frustrated
and I would never be able to
maintain a smile or leave my bed

Today I had ***
For the first time
and it wasn’t like I expected
I’m sure that’s everyone’s first thought
when we’re beaten with the idea of
grandeur before we can even comprehend the act
Pressure in a foreign place
rotating and grinding, balancing on a fleshy beam
The hard part was getting it in
I thought alcohol would help
but it only made sleep take me
Fresh, crusted eyes and the silence
with rain pattering on roof shingles
and the ceiling creaking with every step above
was all the noise in the background
and all I could think was we needed music
then I thought shouldn’t our breaths be the music?
and the squishing sounds of wetness being slapped?
When you’re older it’s easy to separate *** and love
When you’re older, you’re hardened and care less
In every aspect of your life
Yesterday, I thought it would never happen
But today, I had ***
and that’s all it was

It's surprising I
am no longer surprised
   I am not shocked
I am not fazed
  I've pictured and calculated
every possibility
of every outcome
spooling through the wheel
of the dual-coded reel
  It helps me to feel
like I'm in control
like I'm protected
like I can handle being rejected
   but it's ninety percent ineffective
It's dark in here
this film is wrecked
flashing the same scene
skipping and flickering
as if not meant to resume
  ultimately never to end
I can only pretend
between what I see and what is real
is where I'm meant to be
robotically ethereal

Belting and stretching;
Exercising my soul and
lengthening my reach.

to write feelings is painting
language upon the fabric of time
and space to see your face’s
true expression without alteration
in mirrors or shiny surfaces
get lost in the mirror when you’re
seeing shapes dance—watch your skin
melt and your eyes bulge; fall into
yourself and emerge anew
encapsulate all the good you can do
time-released splendor
swimming through your system
giving temporary wisdom yet
exhausting vision—seeing the world
as it was intended to be seen
vibrant, saturated—nothing unclean
and being crushed by gravity
when your kaleidoscope filter fades
remember the sensations and
wear them as security

Tired, too tired to think anymore
mapping who's taking the bed and who's taking the floor
when it's bedtime for one + one more
I won't sleep easy on the other side of the door
How many drinks was too many for him?
Is she as drunk as he or merely attached to his hip?
Why didn't I drink til my vision blurred
so I wouldn't care to hang on every enunciated word
Stuck on the tricycle, always the third wheel
without an outlet to express the feelings that I feel
I stow away behind my teeth the words I keep because
I'm weak and wish I had the strength to speak,
to know the change I seek
The tension is seeping from my dead eyes and
this endearing disguise will be all you will see

Being bolder by
broadening borders bound by
basic black belts

My skin is eight different kinds of dry
my fingers shorting like circuits
my mind ventured near permafried
but boosts of serotonin were worth it

My hands didn't get enough
of the good time beneath those layers
They were timid and shaky, too coy
for your self-assured bares

I can't paint the picture of you and I
the canvas is blank until colors collide
wide strokes of red to signify the
passion bleeding from my insides

I'm on the edge of my seat
precariously perched
anxiously gripping the edge
of your tousled and wrinkled shirt

I've waited for you to catch on
but oblivion runs deep, my dear
I'll speak my mind, loud and clear
It is you I want; I want you here

I am the subject

of my own misfortune; the

idle passerby

under the influence again
just so I can stop thinking
about the emptiness I feel
like it’ll completely wash away
down the cold steel drain
and flush out into the abyss
of the rest of the world’s pain
I cannot understand the flightless
fears and insecurities that are
bound to the entirety of me
and why I’m crying without cause
when I should already be asleep
life is as real as the concept of you
and it’s happening now, every day
I awaken in the afternoon because
everything is frightening to do
I’m not ready to be a failure again
still recovering from you and hoping
to meet someone new so it’s easy to
***** a good thing up for myself
life is relentless, happening now
I’m under the influence

Sickly, yet eager
to spread my germs by laughing
with my loves tonight.

I’m ready to SHOUT

and yell

and scream

and cry
when all of you, faceless sapiens
drag on by, blissfully unaware
of the plague slaughtering droves
in my mind;


I’m ready to confess

and disclose

and attest
to the reasons why I shy away,
cold and detached as a lizard’s tail
lifelessly existing for a purpose
left in the dark to find;

                                                          ­      I’m damaged
                                                         ­  and I’m scared
                                                          ­                         I’m alone
                                                     I’m damaged and
                                                             ­    scared of being alone
                                                           ­                 

                            but shouting your fears
                               to those who don’t listen
                                  only carries to their ears
                                       as a minute *whisper

Complacency has touched me
in the most awkward of ways
sighing between strums of minor rests
sending ringing open E’s to reverberate
through my chest
I love to listen to the
sounds I create in order:
    EBEG#bE
flicking and flapping,
a green brain pic clapping against
golden steel strings
and the spruce sings
a harmonious song—
***** California and the
words you get wrong
notes that sound strong
and remind the mind of how
heavenly sequence can be
    EBEG#bE

Sensual this time, platonic the next—
let’s not be one too often
regardless of optional ***

Let’s keep things spaced     out
so emotions don’t grow    too strong
You may have the right intentions,
but these notions are wrong

Don’t tickle my complex
into laughing away current issues
    I want to say “I love you”
    and suffice for “I miss you”
   The last thing I want to do
   is overwhelm you with words
you’re not accustomed to
so I’ll snuggle you closer,
as close as two beings can be,
and imagine bonding our skin
fusing intricately

   I connect with you
  on another plane
   and I’m dependent upon
your amorous pain

and I wish and hope and
inevitably know there’s not
a chance between us again
when we’ll be anything more than
just friends (here and then)
   because you and I are going
   through the same stages of life
   simultaneously, yet
   alone and lonely

In training mode I
remembered you and us in
bed and I shivered.