birthdays were always bad luck for me
what does it mean to lose your minkd?
it means that for every failure it's been stacking up like bricks, one by one on top of each other but in the shape of the body filling ever finger, ever nostril. Even the failures that had nothing to do with you personally, they are still failures, they still contain the adhesive to be easily conjoined to the others: that boy in Baltimore, that girl in New York. Then, you are left with a body full of bricks, a brain of bricks, a heart of bricks. Until, there is nothing living inside epithelium that is living. So, you are living and you are bricks. Bricks don't care about anything; mononucleosis, red jackets, boys named Landon that skateboard for a living, meatier chili, getting bruises, sleeping without him, dirty pillowcases, sickly dogs that pass on, a dance performance in a blue bikertard, or anyone who exists more than thirty minutes away. That girl is everything you never wanted to be, but somehow you are missing out because you aren't all those pretty cells. I don't want to be nice, and I don't want to be sweet, I want to be crude and harsh and rough.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Picture light in waves,
conjuring into a shadow.
hazel smoke, missing the brown skin on the head of her heel.
Cramped symmetry.
mathematics no longer exists in my vocabulary
snow blisters every mile of this bluebird's wing
sitting hunchbacked on a loveseat.
Only one chair in a square roon of rectangular value.
Paper crunched and crumbled sits on my
hips, hips
pelvic borders
anatomically correct feeble points of extrusion.
Completely void of hunger
eating ribcages.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Exhaustion
ABC's, 123's,
elbows and knees,
smooth concrete
respiratory wheeze
blank snowy trees
in evergreen wonderland.
X's treasure
pirate's gold is coal
to burn fire
that is absent tonight as the bone in my chill gets worse
as if I am in labor with a beating heart
escaping my ribcage
as the fairytale tickles each one
like only a xylophone genius could compose
in such a manner of deluxe anticipation
caused by the mere existence of the tension between us with a hook in each palm.
Christ said to kiss me,
so i turn off my billboard
and close up shop
so you can do it without judgement.
Because the only thing I can come up with
(while pondering on possibilities of why you aren't madly in love with me lying rock heavy next to me each night)
is that you are afraid of falling in love with this girl.
Marriage facades are merely for the conservatives
without shock value you would be a different person.
Creepy crawly spiders have spun you into a bad case of a head cold of the worst strand.
Love comes in all forms sweetheart
and lately you have found it forming a tumor on your heart
or maybe it's your brain.
That's the problem,
it stems from an unknown source.
Full Medical Examinations are always unsuccessful
like Amelia Earhart
who's history relies on an unknown source.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am dropping from this Earth in great amounts of crimson splendor.
And with every spill I am melted molten flesh until the concrete no longer feels like stone
but billions of goose-down pillows.
Isn't that the way it's supposed to be though?
I get bruises in bed
and massages from the dimply gravel.
We converse about cellulite and favorites-
the whole time everyone looks like the dumb society
drunk or stoned and oblivious to the lack of depth that will never be fixed.
And why should it-
As long as they are content with their addiction.
I am drinking again without you.
I am inhaling infinite hits of a double chambered glass.
I am adding to the conversation.
I am chasing after you
and running backwards because it will end at the beginning.
I am adding to the pessimism.
Outer-bodied experienced and all-
I am pointing at myself sitting silently in a crowded room,
in a stiff chair,
I am pointing and laughing at my hopeful heart
beating too loudly.
My cheeks are turning crimson as I melt further into the concrete wood.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I will never forget your pupils that night.
You looked like a scared kitten.
I just wanted to hold you close to my heart and pet your head so that you would be okay and comfortable and happy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dictators Are Lonely People
In this great illusion of consistency and infinity,
I write about MY love.
MYYYYYYYYYY love.
The time has come to start writing in a larger perspective instead of writing so selfishly.
But I am a selfish little person
with my mink coat and my deception plans.
I will call you and I will lie to you.
I will say I will see you later,
but I will never show up.
The cycle will continue until you get the hint.
There are those I need and there are those who need me.
Those are the ones who call at 5 in the morning and babble on and on about some girl Sarah
who's hat they liked so therefore they must be destined to share the rest of their lives with her.
Have you become that without?
Are you starving for an intimacy?
I am.
But I refuse to let it haunt me.
Then, there are the ones who don't realize they are alone.
I make friends with these people.
And in their lack of knowledge they decide to become dictators,
pointing loudly to a city and demanding our presence then and there.
They forget we lead seperate lives of obligation.
So they abandon us with flexed palms and limp limbs.
YOU ARE HANDICAP
I scream
and they don't understand until a year later.
And then there are the wise ones.
Who never forget their pasts of idiocracy.
They remember fondly and choose not to forget.
I love these with their sunset hair
and mix- matched eyes.
I love these sinners who have self- destructed and re-established.
I love these hurt souls
who will not call me
who will not dictate me
who choose to be self-involved instead of co-dependent.
I love these lanky soldiers.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Princess--
you've got it all wrong.
make up and gowns are not for you.
you should put on a blackeye and some fishnets
and laugh about this all later.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You Said You Were All Mine
Chaos ensues with pigskin and plastic white laces.
Smotheringly overly enthusiastic sports fans
ranting, screaming, screeching people
putting all their passion into men
who fumble, pass, and score
while i twiddle my feet and twirl for an audience.
By plane and car I am whisked away to the stadium lights
with the thought of you
(with every hope of being honest)
whispering,
"I'm all yours."
Alone in bleachers of thousands I keep my mouth shut,
my eyes wide
and my mind fixated on you and your three words
and i am sinking down, but i am still above ground
and that's the best that i can do for now.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Suffering in truthful assumptions
I saw HIS picture.
Drama King of the Universe
All Hail Mr.Mystery
THE ONLY BOY WHO YOU COULD EVER LOVE.
Here am I
reaping what i sow
in abundances
until i gorge myself into suffocation by my own past.
Brain bended molded into the shape of a fist
four tiny fingers curled around almost a whole thumb.
then i have no brain.
Only duplicate pumping machines
CALL HIM
CALL HIM
HE'S NOT SLEEPING ALONE
HE'S NOT SLEEPING ALONE
he's not sleeping alone on a plaid couch of uneasy eyes.
Ring on little black hole of inevitable continuation
so the end is definite
at least for now
because it allows the cycle to carry on
so that i can once again commit the crime with an easy conciense
until you scream at me the truth
DRAMA KINGS CAN'T COMPETE WITH GIRL BOY ONE WINGED SPARROW DAISIES WITH BRIGHT RED BLOOD.
So which direction?
The Safe Death?
Or the Dangerous Individual?
there comes a time to lose
so here am I
on my way to the airport.
So which direction?
Pick-UP?
Or Lift-Off?
i think i'll lay down and wait
like a good little girl
with my hands between my knees waiting for my turn on the swingset.
it means that for every failure it's been stacking up like bricks, one by one on top of each other but in the shape of the body filling ever finger, ever nostril. Even the failures that had nothing to do with you personally, they are still failures, they still contain the adhesive to be easily conjoined to the others: that boy in Baltimore, that girl in New York. Then, you are left with a body full of bricks, a brain of bricks, a heart of bricks. Until, there is nothing living inside epithelium that is living. So, you are living and you are bricks. Bricks don't care about anything; mononucleosis, red jackets, boys named Landon that skateboard for a living, meatier chili, getting bruises, sleeping without him, dirty pillowcases, sickly dogs that pass on, a dance performance in a blue bikertard, or anyone who exists more than thirty minutes away. That girl is everything you never wanted to be, but somehow you are missing out because you aren't all those pretty cells. I don't want to be nice, and I don't want to be sweet, I want to be crude and harsh and rough.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Picture light in waves,
conjuring into a shadow.
hazel smoke, missing the brown skin on the head of her heel.
Cramped symmetry.
mathematics no longer exists in my vocabulary
snow blisters every mile of this bluebird's wing
sitting hunchbacked on a loveseat.
Only one chair in a square roon of rectangular value.
Paper crunched and crumbled sits on my
hips, hips
pelvic borders
anatomically correct feeble points of extrusion.
Completely void of hunger
eating ribcages.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Exhaustion
ABC's, 123's,
elbows and knees,
smooth concrete
respiratory wheeze
blank snowy trees
in evergreen wonderland.
X's treasure
pirate's gold is coal
to burn fire
that is absent tonight as the bone in my chill gets worse
as if I am in labor with a beating heart
escaping my ribcage
as the fairytale tickles each one
like only a xylophone genius could compose
in such a manner of deluxe anticipation
caused by the mere existence of the tension between us with a hook in each palm.
Christ said to kiss me,
so i turn off my billboard
and close up shop
so you can do it without judgement.
Because the only thing I can come up with
(while pondering on possibilities of why you aren't madly in love with me lying rock heavy next to me each night)
is that you are afraid of falling in love with this girl.
Marriage facades are merely for the conservatives
without shock value you would be a different person.
Creepy crawly spiders have spun you into a bad case of a head cold of the worst strand.
Love comes in all forms sweetheart
and lately you have found it forming a tumor on your heart
or maybe it's your brain.
That's the problem,
it stems from an unknown source.
Full Medical Examinations are always unsuccessful
like Amelia Earhart
who's history relies on an unknown source.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am dropping from this Earth in great amounts of crimson splendor.
And with every spill I am melted molten flesh until the concrete no longer feels like stone
but billions of goose-down pillows.
Isn't that the way it's supposed to be though?
I get bruises in bed
and massages from the dimply gravel.
We converse about cellulite and favorites-
the whole time everyone looks like the dumb society
drunk or stoned and oblivious to the lack of depth that will never be fixed.
And why should it-
As long as they are content with their addiction.
I am drinking again without you.
I am inhaling infinite hits of a double chambered glass.
I am adding to the conversation.
I am chasing after you
and running backwards because it will end at the beginning.
I am adding to the pessimism.
Outer-bodied experienced and all-
I am pointing at myself sitting silently in a crowded room,
in a stiff chair,
I am pointing and laughing at my hopeful heart
beating too loudly.
My cheeks are turning crimson as I melt further into the concrete wood.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I will never forget your pupils that night.
You looked like a scared kitten.
I just wanted to hold you close to my heart and pet your head so that you would be okay and comfortable and happy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dictators Are Lonely People
In this great illusion of consistency and infinity,
I write about MY love.
MYYYYYYYYYY love.
The time has come to start writing in a larger perspective instead of writing so selfishly.
But I am a selfish little person
with my mink coat and my deception plans.
I will call you and I will lie to you.
I will say I will see you later,
but I will never show up.
The cycle will continue until you get the hint.
There are those I need and there are those who need me.
Those are the ones who call at 5 in the morning and babble on and on about some girl Sarah
who's hat they liked so therefore they must be destined to share the rest of their lives with her.
Have you become that without?
Are you starving for an intimacy?
I am.
But I refuse to let it haunt me.
Then, there are the ones who don't realize they are alone.
I make friends with these people.
And in their lack of knowledge they decide to become dictators,
pointing loudly to a city and demanding our presence then and there.
They forget we lead seperate lives of obligation.
So they abandon us with flexed palms and limp limbs.
YOU ARE HANDICAP
I scream
and they don't understand until a year later.
And then there are the wise ones.
Who never forget their pasts of idiocracy.
They remember fondly and choose not to forget.
I love these with their sunset hair
and mix- matched eyes.
I love these sinners who have self- destructed and re-established.
I love these hurt souls
who will not call me
who will not dictate me
who choose to be self-involved instead of co-dependent.
I love these lanky soldiers.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Princess--
you've got it all wrong.
make up and gowns are not for you.
you should put on a blackeye and some fishnets
and laugh about this all later.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You Said You Were All Mine
Chaos ensues with pigskin and plastic white laces.
Smotheringly overly enthusiastic sports fans
ranting, screaming, screeching people
putting all their passion into men
who fumble, pass, and score
while i twiddle my feet and twirl for an audience.
By plane and car I am whisked away to the stadium lights
with the thought of you
(with every hope of being honest)
whispering,
"I'm all yours."
Alone in bleachers of thousands I keep my mouth shut,
my eyes wide
and my mind fixated on you and your three words
and i am sinking down, but i am still above ground
and that's the best that i can do for now.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Suffering in truthful assumptions
I saw HIS picture.
Drama King of the Universe
All Hail Mr.Mystery
THE ONLY BOY WHO YOU COULD EVER LOVE.
Here am I
reaping what i sow
in abundances
until i gorge myself into suffocation by my own past.
Brain bended molded into the shape of a fist
four tiny fingers curled around almost a whole thumb.
then i have no brain.
Only duplicate pumping machines
CALL HIM
CALL HIM
HE'S NOT SLEEPING ALONE
HE'S NOT SLEEPING ALONE
he's not sleeping alone on a plaid couch of uneasy eyes.
Ring on little black hole of inevitable continuation
so the end is definite
at least for now
because it allows the cycle to carry on
so that i can once again commit the crime with an easy conciense
until you scream at me the truth
DRAMA KINGS CAN'T COMPETE WITH GIRL BOY ONE WINGED SPARROW DAISIES WITH BRIGHT RED BLOOD.
So which direction?
The Safe Death?
Or the Dangerous Individual?
there comes a time to lose
so here am I
on my way to the airport.
So which direction?
Pick-UP?
Or Lift-Off?
i think i'll lay down and wait
like a good little girl
with my hands between my knees waiting for my turn on the swingset.