

ReconciliationI come prepared for All situations. Earthly is not so far Form the unearthly In my eyes. Wind, if you blow I will wear a jacket. Sun, if you shine I will harness your rays. God, if you so see fit To run my precious Thoughts into the ground, I will bow my head and Break my neck for your Judgment. If you lift me up To see all the great That is still left I will spread my arms To embrace your Views. But if you leave me, If you neither condemn Nor take in arms My life, I will turn mReconciliation


Observation Of DistractionsI cannot help but feel I'm retreating again. Forcing my mind to focus on the color the sunObservation Of Distractions
brings out in your hair may seem innocent enough, but innocence is deceiving.
What can be more artless then admiring the hues in a fellow day goer? Oh, what deviousness could derive from this?
Consider ones willingness to be lead astray. The flushed farceur persuading
the cerulean sovereignty away from grave circadian motifs, only to end with a
deafening backwash of undone expositions.
Clarion aberra


Eating OrtolansOver head the stars are projecting all the wrong answers. My love life is slowing crumbling, I shouldn't enter any contest, today is not a day for confrontations. I stash my glossy paged life line under my bed. No matter what it said, there are still things to be done, confrontations that must be had, love lives to save. I grab my bag and head for the door. There's nothing for it, I suppose. What is meant to be will be and there's no use fighting it...but then again where's the fun in giving in? Down town I walk past the dog groomers, through the park where kids are playing and couples are watching, fantasizing about wEating Ortolans


Lock Picks and RocksWe broke into the old apartment to look for things we'd lost when moving on and moving out, across the streetLock Picks and Rocks
and sixteen cities South. I tried to take the poems from the windows but memories are more permanent than marker. Mornings seemed longer when sunrise wrote words on bare walls and bare skin, or when I traced end-rhymes and metaphors into the curve
of your hips.
These days we don't sleep.
and I couldn't find them; instead
we found furniture that spelled apathy
and wrong words on right angles, organized
and dead. They painted over &nbs


if you're reading this,if you're reading this, then I've managed to accomplish at least one thing.if you're reading this,
-and that's learning how to write. my hands weren't made for such delicate procedures, they were made to break. they weren't made to express heart, mind, and soul, they were meant to tear them down. to somehow tear down everything I've ever built up for myself and make it a pile of rubble in the dirt.
if you're reading this, then you must know something that I don't.
-and that's how to feel anything but hate. the patience to sit down and read other's words is not one of my qualities, it's to ruin you before you're even made. before your bre


i'm choking.i am sitting with smoking nerves andi'm choking.
frayed circuit wires, everything i don't
know knotting together for me to choke
on.
if there is a door, i can't find it.
if there is an answer, i'm unaware.
instead i am falling to my knees and
crawling under the smoke, eyes watering
and knuckles bleeding. no closer to the end
than when i had begun.
if i had the courage, i'd crack open your ribs and get the answer for myself. if i was brave,
i'd simply reach over and pinch the truth from
your tongue.
or i'd just tie my heart to the ra
| Telling someone about yourself is like describing an optical illusion. You know what's there....you can see it...but someone else will have to look for themselves to see it. |
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