i get lost in your oceans of awesome.

whistles echo within the cavities of my mind,

the melodies speak of secrets and stories,

the words you spoke give meaning to this song.

lies never touched your beautiful mouth,

lowly thoughts never lingered in your oceanic eyes,

your skin always radiated truth.

under swirls of emotion and clouds of smoke,

it happened.

love, i wouldnt mind staying.

above ground.

these streetlamps light this road im not driving,

im too far ahead, too far above,

you caught me flying,

you made me see.

ive been lifted from this shipwreck,

brought above ground to the clouds,

i grew wings from your heart,

and now we've left this galaxy.

morning air.

ink bursted out of the pen,
the paper sizzles with dreams,
lifted into the stars with cut out wings,
overseeing normality.

surpassing ordinary,
a fall sweater among the trees,
dripping with reminders and thoughts,
a smile spreads on her face
as her body speeds towards those dear.

she believes in those words twirling in her head,
those faces floating in her soul,
premonitions of her future,
she knows how to survive.

time.

there's a man in a suit just out of my reach,

he teleports from side to side, mocking my slow motions.

gray suit entangles with the concrete just ahead,

bright red tie pulling him apart before me,

nimble black dress shoes prancing along my vision.

who is this man?

what does he do?

his name is thyme.

dont mix and drive.

everything slow, nothing remembered,

slow motion, but skipping like a bad tape.

insightful and developed,

the world was so many shades of white.

our breaths, masks against the cold night,

the stars brought the sky to me,

the ground, so far down.

can't speak, breathing unconscious.

sinking into the leather and cloth.

recurring images, park.

button up, whir of gears, destination high.

one of those dreams.

she awoke in a grey dust,

back stiff and limbs cold,

her white cocoon made of porcelain.

rolling over the side,

she stumbles into a mixed upworld,

there's a bathtub in the living room.

suspected.

blood-stained counter top,

granite gleaming speckled black.

smoke slowly filters through the strangely still air,

cigarette butt digging its way into the overflowing tray,

ashes sprinkled about the wet table.

a lonely sheet of paper

absorbing fluid, no resolve, just subconscious action.

contaminated knife disregarded on the floor.

rewind.

responsiblities vanished,
cold air rushing past my worn eyes,
freezing every particle of feeling.

into that room we went,
black tablets and plastic cards,
a little snow to last the night.

start slow, never mind,
let it all go,
faster, faster.
take it all,
plus a little more.

wander those vacant streets that call your name,
remember what true happiness feels like,
let emotion consume you.

do you remember how it felt before?
was time ever actually a unit of measurement?
or was it always ahead of you,
you just walking in its footprints?

call me princess.

promise me a castle,
a trip over the rainbow,
tell me im a princess,
i need to hear those words.

soft pillow against my back,
the screen's right in front of me,
words spewing from every clock,
emotions painting the room
a simple yellow.

you sat next to me on a pedestal,
looked at me from a distance
when doing forbidden things.

there was comfort,
there was a dream,
but princesses carry
the most broken hearts.

fixes.

tape, glue, cement.
how strong of a fix do you need
for that broken soul of yours.

a quick fix: tape.
a swift high, a pop low,
unastable, unreliable.
a thin layer covering
the clear problem.

an adequate mend: glue.
white, gooey, hard to use,
a little longer to cure,
a little longer to break.
heals strong,
but visible crack form soft black ines,
a life is put back together
with friendly help.

long term: cement.
a new start,
a fresh relation.
building again that broken soul,
building up to break again,
but just a little stronger,
just a little thicker.

every time, another choice.
every crack, a new decision.
every life, so many breaks.

corruption.

maybe ive been doing it wrong,
maybe i should have listened,
hisses suggesting its too soon,
im too young.

hurried hunger,
desperate for desire,
lusting for love,
crying for care.

summer begins and something cracks,
dispositions dissolves and we emerge,
something breezy,
determined to conquer kingdoms.

but truly, this isnt true.
our awkward exchanges reveal our true age.

your heart cracked too young,
and now, you have nothing left.

throw away your birthday suit.

this is a game.
here are the rules.
you have a one night stand.
you care, he doesnt.
those are the rules.
do you wish to play?

unabashed lust is not for the faint hearted,
you must be strong, intact.

he will play with you,
touch you lovingly,
convince your soul,
your pulse completes a marathon
by the time you both are done.
fullfilled exhaustion excreted with every heavy breath.

and then you'll fall asleep,
pretend for a moment that this is true,
that this one night will last forever,
you sleeping in the arms of your human heater,
never letting go, feeling whole.

early the next morning, you have to leave.
obligations tug you away,
when all you want to do is stay.

from then on out,
you never speak of that night,
you may never even speak again,
and that is the game you have entered obliviously.

dear poetry club,

Love is a common topic in these four walls,
we talk about finding love, keeping love, having Love.
i used to be able to write of love,
but Love has pushed me away.

i no longer stand in Love's good graces,
shoved off into the outskirts,
the lonely heart.

the past used a shredder on my heart,
contricted my veins,
slowed the ever quiet patter
of that almost worthless organ.

i wish i could be like you, or you,
to be Love's friend,
to feel Love's gentle touch on my body,
but the beating of my heart has been handicapped,
Love has choked me, degraded me.

i no longer feel free to Love,
but wander in her steps,
hoping to find again what you write about,
to be sated with amour,
to be complete with one again.

another fish.

bright hook dimly illuminating the empty soul,
swimming in the shadows,
feeling for warmth.

caught.

tether to the heart,
ripping with each unwanted tug,
shreds drifting about,
a heart floating in the sea.

brought ashore, foreign land.
told what to do, what to think,
remember the familiar waters,
imagining no thoughts.

i jump ship,
drown myself in the sea,
left to my own desires,
owning my own thoughts.

thoughtless.

overdosed on compliments,
write her a song,
sing about her beauty,
sing about your love.

the world is hers,
striding with her graceful line,
she knows what she can accomplish
with her long pinky finger.

she attends the events,
photographs with the right crowd,
perfect, or so it seems,
when her mind is no where near.

the artist

dirty apartment disheveled with papers
housed the artist going mad with creativity
manically producing and deducing.

he has no time for necessities,
all he has is his art and the deep purple reminders
on his pale, corpselike skin.

every month, he returns.
he's smaller but his mind has expanded,
he has dreamt more in his fitful sleep,
he has made more with his delusional mind.

the artist is carving his way through acryllics and charcoal.
while i stand, observing his alluring abstracts,
i dream of withering away into his curious frame.

the bath

tonight you lay in a casket surrounded by delirious tears and terrified whispers.
your dress is periwinkle, you always wanted to be remembered by a deep purple.
the church is filled with a black curtain of strangers,
you had always dreamed of being released into the wind over an ocean or into a forest.

yesterday, you woke up and made breakfast.
the whir of the egg beater meddled with the smell of bacon in your eyes.
toast. you counted one, two, and they descended into an orange wired hell.
with a sputter, the bacon is molded into the eggs.
snap. your toast pops out, a light bulb flickers.

yesterday evening, you decide you're tired.
your boss yelled and yelled and yelled and you deserve a scented bath,
you slowly press into the water, lavender and vanilla snaking around your toes.
you linger a little too long in the calming water, turn the knob to warm up the sanctuary.
ripples of water greet your thighs and you remember the day with a sigh.
you remember the toaster with a sigh.
you make yourself toast. with a sigh.

courage

a grey gloom settled over the city,

she's just another person,

a miniature doll among tall skyscrapers.

her dreams are larger than the country,

they expand over fields and seas,

they ghost along in the artificially lit night,

when her rampant mind won't settle.

she feeds off cups of black greed

and bowls of bland success,

she remembers a time of brightness,

a time of light.

this city screens for color,

accepting only black and white,
the morning paper tells it all,
print smudged with lies.

she arrived for expression,

but came out the same.

defeated, broken down,

she marched back into the city,

and made her stand.

mentality.

i bought a ticket to the museum,
searching for a nice, quiet afternoon.
i was struck with the strangest feelings.

attacked with paranoia,
memories flitting within every painting
as i walked past monet, van gogh, and matisse.
old acryllics gradually fading,
like thoughts slowly forgotten.

plodding through every department,
drips of dreary with each step,
chaos in the modern arts,
that invasion was deferred.

ghosts chased me through the photography section,
i sprinted for the exit, no longer wanting this entrapment,
but i tripped. fell. broke my leg.
closing time, and im stuck in the museum.

a ribbon in the wind

a ribbon in the wind

a quiet, calm breeze lifting

the muted purple wildflowers waving goodbye

the yellowed grass rustling their farewells.

grey clouds cover the familiar blue

sudden crashing lights chasing

heavier, water weighing down,

flight no longer an option.

falling, falling, splat.

wet fabric making an unsightly splash

pounded into brown and red.

but the sun finally returns,

welcomed by nodding flowers

and chirping birds

dusty and wind forgotten.

where is my mind

beg, plead, pray.

release yourself from underneath

the cushioned couch,

the pillows you hide behind.

peeking out,

i see your eyes burrowing into my pink organs,

for you, they're new,

i made you a home, move into my thoughts.

take full control,

dictating my actions, inspiration.

fragility, dependency, weakness, strength.

i pour myself a cup of hot coffee,

and sit upon your couch,

we talk for countless nights,

conversations, both imagined and real.

consumed by the pillows,

thrown up white fluff,

its just a puffy mess.

twist.

yellow orb pressing against the veiled sky,
reminding my soul of its burden,
shedding light onto my hidden thoughts.

calling for confusion,
mixing my mind into an upheaval smoothie,
slushing. my skull, its home.

i want clarity,
a lit path within my gloomy realm,
an enlightening consultation with the depths of my twisted insides.

assisted by a surgeon's scalpel,
draw a deep, red line.
look inside.

tell me what i ought to think,
tell my my story.
give me your thoughts
because i dont seem to have my own.

you are not my friend... but we're friends.

its something from the past,
wishing and dreaming,
in this friendship, we were never really friends.

melodies float through my mind,
cluttering my mind from sanity,
insanity whirling about.

but you dont want this,
and neither does this heart i own.

i want something familiar.
youre something familiar.
but i dont want you,
and i certainly dont need you.

tired.

i wish you still smiled when you saw my face,
now its just expected,
i feel ordinary,
what happened to our forever?

long nights, awake, thinking of you,
i doubt i cross your mind so frequently,
i wish to rip my heart out,
and feel nothing, feel numb.

i just want to feel special,
is that too much to ask?
im tired of ordinary.
splash, drop, swirl.

im just tired,
i want to feel alive,
but instead,
ill feel nothing.

she gives, she takes, she rewards and punishes.

she whispers scary truths in the middle of the night,
worthless, unhappy, lacking.

without her, smiles and laughs,
freedom, essentially.

too much time enslaved,
to let go now.
clinging on to the only thing remembered,
the only one that gave worth and purpose.

give me strength to reach myself,
promises to follow command,
i will be strong,
please give me strength.

a blur of questions and thoughts.

who are you to trust,
when warned not to trust anyone?
how do you let anyone in,
with a mind set to doubt?

there's so much hate, there's so much love,
but even he has hope,
while the one he loved has heroin and lies.

i love you so,
ill be there for you,
ups or downs.

but can i trust you?
ill tell you about my past tomorrow,
or the next day.

real trust is so hard to come by,
real is so hard to come by.

you know i care,
do i love or am i in love?
what is love?
how do i trust someone i love?
how do you lie to someone you love?
too many questions for a sober heart and mind.
drained of emotions.
choppy and mismatched.

irony.

pooling in my eyes,
expectations of denial weighing down my heart,
reassurances whispered in the moment.

i gave it all away,
i suppose theres nothing left,
but my bare heart.

is there anything i can do?

i see the pain agonizing on your face,

hurt pooling in your eyes,

hurt, distrust, denial, self-worth.

tension clenches at my insides,

longing through my soul.

help, i would offer,

if i but knew how to give it,

imagining transforming your sorrow,

into an obliging smile for a while.

different.

warmth radiating between searching souls,
young hearts searching for easy love,
someone to stand by,
a touch or gesture.

pass the time with me,
his touch lingers in my mind.

why? why?
i though i didnt want this anymore.

will he be different?
doubtful thoughts plague my mind,
reinforced by words from biased elders.

i just need someone to be different,
i just need someone to treat me differently,
but what is this different i want?

satisfaction.

dark and lively,
silent purrs pierce the night.

needs filtering to center stage,
always wanted things to be meaningful,
always wanted to be special.

given up,
insufficient,
instant gratification.

what is satisfaction?

away.

sprinting past profiles,

possibilities and false fronts,

running towards the truth,

terminal thoughts tumbling by.

she shivers in the silent night,

passing flowers and blades.

she approaches her life with every leap.

there is no time for questions,

foot meets pavement,

accelerate forwards,

every step to disappearance.

nothing?

rattled with goosebumps,

sip of reality,

sends me shivering back inside.

physically shaking,

fighting weakness,

always afraid,

of what?

of being less than nothing,

crazed thoughts scrawl strange scribbles.

my name means nothing,

yet the letters tell you everything.

what are you to do,

when nothing is less than something,

when nothing is more than anything,

when you strive for nothing.

the swirling pain is wearing her down.

all seeing failures,

broken shards tearing leather skin,

tough but fragile,

strong but worn.

where is that smiling face?

scary thoughts rush,

overwhelmed and destroyed,

she'll never be the same.

im not well.

escaping inwards,

into misery and anxety,

everything is too much,

everything is too little.

everything i do isnt enough,

the numbers are far too high,

stress pounds my back,

pain radiating through my soul.

fear and cold,

evaporate into my blood,

tinting my skin,

a deathly pale blue-grey.

wants and desires,

overpowered by worthlessness,

safe only under the warm cover,

the mask.

failure.

acids claiming the disgusting visitors,

youre unwelcome!

the creature churns.

bubbling through its unnecessary work,

causing the usual associated pain.

where has normal gone?

where has health gone?

why, dear,

i believe it disappeared,

with extraordinary goals.

shes fragile, you know.

stained her eyes,

green with envy,

glaring at her chosen prey.

silent, unspoken promises made,

all odds against the journey,

so many doubts, too many doubts.

where has the mind gone?

the body started feed on it,

memories, reminders, thoughts, disappearing

like her broken heart.

growth spurt.

standing tall, towering,
helpful friends beneath her feet,
long everything stretching,
gazes floating, flittering.

jealousy stirs,
an idea forms,
craving emptiness,
finding success,
she wants to fall,
lower, lower, lowest,
into the depths of thismonster-filled pit,
they eat her insides,
and lower she falls.

self-contained striving,
stifled secrets,
severely shaken,
somewhat ashamed.

she feels around,
empty holes, hard branches,
barely beating heart,
and brittle existence.

the further she falls,
the more she's won,
and the more she has lost,
the more success she feels.

green makes dragons appear.

puffs fly,
fire breathing dragon,
roaring and screaming,
mighty growls,
pain and distrust,
eyes stained red,
droplets,
branches peak to attack.

soldiers of the night.

i let the sorrow striken words consume me,
consume my mind and soul,
as i walk into the dark night.

the whispers, the screams,
the troubled tales present the beat of my march,
tears fall from the sky,
weeping for the poor soldiers of the world.

they fight the war everday,
lies and deceit,
sly smiles and winks.

they drown in it,
become all-consumed,
by the flames of their desire.

reminders lay in the stars,
little bits of hope,
little dreams twinkling.