late departures

we flew across the world
your face a map for me to see
your head on my shoulder
as your eyes grew less colder
and time was stopped

one year ago from now
my stomach turns
with the though
of what you did
and how you could do it
but something tells me
I might be about to do the same
if I'm not careful

leaning out my window sill

smoking gun at the witching hour
17 minutes past
can't help but wonder
thought layers over
eyes start to turn under
chest raised
increasing breath
spell it out for me
in sounds but not words
i still can't hear you
LOUDER PLEASE
you can clearly feel the marks on my knees
every scathing charm
that grazes your arm
is a plight
for the day that you
just might
fall down.

i loved the jungle book when i was little

forest and trees
jungle and rain
it could be sane
if you let the leaves tumble
past your nose
and don't cut them down
or push them away

trickling water
over mossy rock formations
calm and steady said the panther
be weary of the tiger
as it is dangerous
to play with fire
strength of the bear
heart of a fighter
and just so you know
the snake is a liar
the monkey insane
and the elephant to blame
but this is all just the acid talking
blow this will mind your

a boy woke up naked in the woods
surrounded by wolves....

some thing similar to me

funny fickle thing time is
turning and contradicting
everything i've said
peeking thorough
my white blinds
walking home in what
felt like
pouring rain
something slightly sinister
lingers in the air
and on the tongue
controlled versions
of myself
redivide and recognized.

do you comprehend?

so a calendar fell upon the floor
scattered dates and plots
just remember
what walked this pavement
before your toes.

3:07am

starburst on my ceiling
and that sound is just repeating
sinking
falling
feeling
lights are forming
starburst on my ceiling
woven shapes
commute
contort
still breathing
moon is passing over
and the rest are still sleeping
chest is
heavy
compress
even
fading starburst on my ceiling

let's talk

all about why i'm here
standing here
sitting here
when i look at myself
in her eyes
i see what i should be
only for a moment
and i recoil in fear
of falling

flying

i'm not dead
yet
but something inside me has been trying real hard
i end up
toes in
then everything
all in
and my thoughts escape me

shorelines

eyelashes flutter
the jagged contours
collecting your torso
to you legs
have me in a spell
and the way your hand
graced mine
and then my face
closed eyelids
let this last
longer.

Alexander & Gore

contusions of my self
in the reflections on the street
connected at the feet
for underneath
there are secrets
that we keep
and fates we all will meet
the pavement warm and ridden
with elite
senses
tell tales of excellence
in the year of 1924
booming towers
women selling flowers
in the place we feel deceit
flick your hand
underneath
and onto
looking left and then right
we are waiting

late resolutions

lose 10
gain monetary
create beauty
find her
clean up
love more
hate less

sunday

well today
i was taken
from my feet
and the girl I love
didn't care to meet
she was too far away
and I was listening to
how the rice boy sleeps.

I will kiss you on the forehead
you say goodbye.
its all the same

immaculate face

why are you
what are you
porcelain
or some kind of stone
my fingertips read you
in the silence
and you move
ever so slightly
to the warmth of my palm
i lean in and you
move back
but you don't tremble
i put my head down
into my lap
and you whisper
please don't
but i can't wake
i can't look up
not into those eyes
vert et d'or
nor into those lips
tilted in a smirk
closed tighter
be gone
vacant disregard
soul unbound
i need this
i need you
but you don't see me

spindels

touching the static screen
the vivid integrations
illuminate this room
where i sit
looking in to the past
and where you are right now
laying on your back
looking up at something
or someone else
it makes me shudder
with remorse
and with regret
and better yet
i don't and won't ever know

be calm and steady
fingers tip tip tapping away
you should be resting
i tell myself
you should be forgetting
i tell myself

but at this time with the colors dripping
and the notes spinning
i can't help but try to see

counterfeit

my eyes closed tight
lock you out
lock me in
say something sweet
say it very quietly
because i just might not want to hear it
not today
maybe tomorrow or
next week or
a year from now or
never.

nautica

for what you do
and what you say
are never the same
and from what I'm told
that's not even your birth name

like soliloquies ringing in my ears
of all the promises that seem austere
coated in golden threads
plated with sheets of lead
and reformed into a hull
to weather the 7 seas
the seven things i see
the seven sides of me
and the one thing
that keeps on lingering