No more words. You’re right, it’s enough
Of mussy clusters of meaningless phrases.
All thoughts are chilled and are wrapped in pain.
It’s not an interesting story for us.

Colors have faded, cleaned out with time.
The beauty’s become decrepit in whole.
The past has been a depressing burthen.
An emptiness’s hanged over us in full.

There’re no more words.
Feelings are rootless.
We’re free of each other.
Our love is bootless.

delightful*                                                      (pleasing, full of delight)
dreamy                                                ­         (peaceful, abstracted from reality)
demure                                                ­         (reserved, modest)
distant                                                ­           (seperated in space/mind)
delirious                                                ­        (not able to think or speak clearly)
dangerous                                             ­        (able or likely to cause injury, pain, harm, etc)
daunting                                                  ­     (tending to make people afraid or less confident )
destructive                                                    (causing a very large amount of damage)
decrepit                                               ­          (weak/fragile, not strong enough)

dead                                                ­            (my father/heart/hope)

I dont want simple;
Feed me yourself in silver spoonfuls.
I want simple,

Lie to me,
and tell me
I am not an Animal.

   I am an analyst-dissecting details.

4Am fresh snowfall
I will remain capable!
Make first new footprints,

in a circle...
  Till I reach the middle.

I will remain incapable of
Tying my shoes.

   I am a participant in social warfare.

Looking forward:
Possible encounters &
Spring Rain.
Fantasizing both in measure.  

All I am to you is what you see, and
What you hear,
smell,
  touch,
    taste.

All you are to me so far
Is what I see, and what I hear;
So i am looking very hard,
   And I am listening very closely.

I want logic,
Tasting honey when I ******.
I want harsh confusion,
Complete absence of logic in it's essence.
Kissing a part of you that potties.

Now,
I can remain content in chasing my tail; I sleep balled up on top of the ocean, my clothes and fur strewn;

   Chewing paws in strange positions.

I want contradiction, an
Assurance of the Devil & a
Total disregard for ghosts.

Constructive chaos:
   Dress like ghosts on Acid and
Wear rollerblades.

I want my resumé to read:
>works well with others,
>great fighter, &
>An outstanding Lay.

I want to leave behind dreams,
I want to rent a room in your
dream bed&breakfast;,
Sometimes sharing yours, but always paying rent on time for mine.

Sometimes
swinging an axe against a rough stump,
Craving lemonade and
Spring Rain.

Part of me wants to grow old and
Mad, and sit by rivers; I could smoke ****** from a wizard pipe for my
Sore joints.

( I am alright with the possible outcome of Alone. )

[ I would rip my hair out,
Glue it to my body, & become
A boy in wolf's clothing. ]

I want creative destruction,
Mayhem,
borderline Mind ****.
Learning to pick the banjo half-decently.

   That Deliverance tune.

And walk around ski towns
   Scaring the **** out of some tourists
And other antagonists.

My nail polish
peels
like wallpaper
on a dead house

and i suppose
thats
what i am
a dead house

decrepit and torn
broken
down and old
from 16 years

of broken mentality
***
******-manically wanted
Lips, Hips, thighs.

But what if thats
gone
and my wallpaper is
peeling like ripe fruit