shnookie

I've been holding time back

just to see us again.

the times I keep framed

like a blurry polaroid

on the corner of my desk.

I keep it there,

so time can dust it,

and let it fall.

I've got an empire in my mind,

it explores the shelves of my brain

highlighting the shadows

that remain untouched,

unsold

unfiltered

by the corruption of the needless people

who tell me

I'm no good.

You never told me that.

you never once questioned

my love.

my heart

my mind.

But I'm no good.

The fan keeps blowing

because I'm a machine that is just too hot.

overheating, because the wires

just don't fit.

I can see you loving her

but, I can hear you

loving me.

I'll be back soon.

When my heart takes a brief nap.

a much needed vacation.

I'll wake up

with a heart touching sandy shores.

if this is love

why do I keep waiting?

keep wilting.

I keep waiting to fuck things up.

to let him be my muse

and destroy him

with my Mayan wit.

But

some things,

are just meant to be.

and somethings

need a little push.

so here's the slide

to my heart.

hold on,

it gets quick.

I left my heart on the milky way last night

Sleep til 3:06 pm.

I don't mind.

I ran into you last night,

covered in fog, and twilight.

I know you were real

I could see the milky way

in your beautiful blues.

That's how I know.

Sleep, is selfish

and my heart, is worse.

when I wake,

there are dotted lines

marking the spot

where my heart

used to be.

Thinking with two brains.

telling me

two heads are better than one.

My darling,

one thinks

the other acts.

I am

in

a

new

world.

The night is murderous.

I've parked my skin under the same sky

for the past 3 months.

I collect myself near the corners of my house

that have never been touched by past memories

that sting my already salted wounds.

(already assaulted wounds).

I can tell that I'm ready,

feet barely touching the wooden slabs

feet barely touching earth.

the cracks in the walls

are whispering.

the wind blows straight through them,

straight through us,

until we can end our conversations

with conversations on end.

I don't want to smoke anymore

this whole, dying thing really gets old.

I keep hearing from several people

that if I keep this up

I'm going to die.

If I keep living

I will die.

Holding

Waiting in lines for purchases I can't afford.

I must be in love,

because my patience is starting to appear.

I'm gunna kill me a mockingbird

The history of my insecurities paint a larger picture now

I can only hear the jazzy thumps

of our agreed satisfaction

in my nightmares now.

There is nothing to hide anymore,

I am a beautiful woman,

You are a terrifying soul sucker,

and I refuse to let your jaded sense of tasteless fashion

overcome the static I've placed between us.

power by numbers

I have wall flowers

streaming down the neck

of my pencil thin, ankle-boots.

Tombstone is hot.

I am melting into

a waxy cartoon version

of some sexy, urban, unrated

cowboy.

Licking my pearly whites

because I can't have

what I want.

Sweater Exchange

Reaching into the glassy midnight

I find myself indulging in the intimate moments

the night has created for us.

I allow myself to get nervous.

I can hardly hear over the pounding of my heart.

You must be begging to get in.

pounding, knocking, pounding.

And, I am ready to let you in.

pillow head

In restless sleep.

I clinch to a pillow

my hands

sweating in sleep,

and twitching in lonesome beats

create a man like

resemblance.

And I think I'm in love

with my pillow.

Lost dog

I have ridden myself

of everything you loved about me.

Just when I think

I have lost everything,

I remember,

you weren't me.

Tunnel Support

I need everything back,

so I can give it away again.

I'm not asking anymore,

I'm begging.

Here's my punchline

All of us hunger

for that moment.

when we chose

whether dying is our past

or dying is now.

My death is old news.

it's happened,

I've read the headlines.

I've circled the details

in fine, red pen.

I find is humorous

that my death

will end up in the funny papers.

knock knock.

who's there?

eternity and beyond.

Hell in December

Intimacy

of the soul.

Cannot exist,

without the soul that kept me wandering.

Wandering on the edge of sanity, just for the hell of it.

So it lie in pieces on the bed.

where the shadow of your warm embrace

mocks my cold skin.

Can I lose my mind now?

now that you're gone,

and she has stayed.

I find myself talking to my linens,

in an unhealthy,

delusional slur.

I keep asking them to take me back.

They are similar to you in one sense.

They say nothing.

Celebrate this

How could I ever love

your treasury of hate?

Sall Sells seashells by hell.

I used to know

a tacky girl

with white blonde hair

and shoes that never matched 

any color in the world.

She was always eating away

at the hearts of older, moldier men.

and I wonder how she sleeps at night

when they stroke her hair.

She had canyon pores 

and black toenails.

but she was loved.

which is more than I can say.

Birds and the me's.

We were so human, and our hands, would sweat.

Even after years of our shameless love,

butterflies sucker punched the lining of my stomach.

They begged me to choke.

Bee hives would consume

the vocal chord rhythm I created

In every hum I made

while you softly

draped your arms

around my velvet skin.

They prompted

my quick responses,

and slept soundly

after every

I love you passed.

And this,

this memory keeps me alive.

Scarce

All I had to give away

was love he hadn't purchased yet.

which left resources scarce.

which left me scared to sell

the remains of my dignity.

which makes me scared to lose

anything, ever again.

Defining shadow perfection

In the run ins

of the ins and outs of my love.

I've found

I've never loved anything

as much as I've loved

the shadow he cast.

His shadow

was wonderful,

but the light framed his face

like a halo frames

the fruit of a flame.

And at times,

his beauty was too much.

His shadow

was much easier to love.

It appeared

and disappeared.

When the sun would set

like it always does.

in the far off hills,

by the time,

shadow lover

disappeared

There was no ray

cast on his brow

His shadow was less disappointing.

He created,

Shadow perfection;

perfection in the form of

beauty that comes between

the light he casts

and my cold surface.

Beautiful shapes

he created.

The second his foot

graced my floors.

Danger Danger.

I fell in love

with the lillies he

brought to the front of my house

within his smile,

the pastey white petals clashed

into the ivory of his teeth.

It's easy to melt 

when his touch is the sun.

I keep craving it,

like I've been sheltered for so long.

I keep telling him

I've been without his love

for too long.

dancing in

Overcoming grief

is a lot like

dancing in the dark.

Each step, could be the right step

it could be the wrong step,

but you're stepping 

because the power

of the overwhelming

music of life

the pace of life,

it teaches you to think fast.

But God help me,

I was born with two left feet.

Alone-ity

Being alone

isn't so bad,

once you realize

everybody,

who is anybody

does it.

-2 days

In two days

with no sleep

I have met

a dead poet.

Absence makes the heart grow colder

Forgotten nights,

riddled my temporary

sanitary-mindset.

In the blankets,

pressed against my young skin,

I used to ask for him.

In all her sainthood,

leaning against her bed,

my mother promised me bigger skies.

In her calmest voice

she soothed the aches

of my love, which was met

with unexpected visitation.

and tomorrowless apologies.

I listened to a day without rain,

the hums of a softer person

showed me the brighter planets

outlined in glow tape

on the ceiling of my childhood room.

Telling me he missed me

wrinkled out the worry

pressed so firmly

on my abandoned chest.

Pressed so hard,

I reluctantly accepted.

And he wonders why

in the Spring of my life,

I refuse to accept his phone calls,

And in the Fall of my life,

I'll refuse him privileges a father earns.

And in the Winter of his life,

Maybe he'll recall

he had a daughter,

before anything else.

Child

I know that I'm asleep

when I'm touching 

the tips of your fingers.

It's a sleep that eases the pain

of losing you.

In my delirium,

I touch the remains

of my remains,

now vacant.

Information

The issue with your absence, is your absence.

I would not have such a difficult time,

forgiving a dream.

Masochist Muscle

Maybe they'll hunger

for something I can give them

My light is getting so dim,

I couldn't house another

soul sucker.

Sometimes forgetting about

functions of my parts

like the beating of this

masochist muscle

helps me forget about

the filth I know.

Helps me forget about it so bad

it's like

it never even existed.

Things I'd do if I could love, lately.

Sleep,

how I miss thee.

I can almost fade out 

his crashing sirens

his forged I love you's,

the ding-dong ditching 

he played at the door of my heart.

For a second, I think rest may be knocking

knocking at my sticky eyelids.

but reality sets in,

and motion sickness happens

in the stillest of nights.

Sunny Delicious

Faith,

born into the romancing

of my tender slender hands.

he makes me laugh so hard

I throw back my head,

I haven't laughed 

from a real part of me,

in a long time.

The color that had

all faded into

calloused grey.

develops patterns of red 

within these lips of mine

which held so much laughter back.

But now I'm laughing.

all for the sake of my laughter.

and I think I love it.

Man in the moon

The quick grunt he made

was not near as satisfying

as the night he became me

and jumped off every bridge he could find.

Life is beautiful,

just like the fur i own, 

like the crystal i collect.

However sleeping with stones and fiber

ruins the last pale parts

of my sun carved skin.

This city is overwhelming,

like being fucked up on a tire swing, 

holding your breath whilst injecting

every word a liar has ever fork tongued 

into virginal ears. 

The last part of me

that remained virginal, 

jumped off the bridge with him

the night he became me.

And if anyone else knows

the horns my soul 

keeps honking, its him.

Ask him when you find him, 

if at the climax

of his impact

he found my secret soul 

in the core of the earth.

I used to jump on trampolines 

reaching for the moon, 

because I loved it.

When I realized

the moon was connected

to my own noose

I fell in love with the man in him, 

the thrill of his possible kills.

But the night the moon became me, 

it was morning as soon as we touched.

Let him eat cake

I was walking around with stains caked to my skin,

you call them scars...But I know where the truth lies, 

the truth lies when it comes from your mouth. 

You'd kiss them til they felt better, 

Until the truth was lying all over my body.

I asked you if the pain you felt was real,

You lied and said the pain you felt was mine.

So the truth lies in pieces,

pieces all over my floor.

I used to pick them up,

lie there in shame,

I let your lies, lie in shame.

I shook hands with my first love

I shook hands with my first love,

we were occasionally intimate,

It was beautiful,

we would cradle our hands between our stomachs.

Laugh in the face of  the departure of love.

Some nights when life goes how it does

I would cry on his shoulder,

and when he found out I was real,

he shook his other hand,

and loved himself more.

Star wars

I sit like a snap dragon, leaning on a fence.
blending with the prickly brown wood,
marking up my white shirt.
If I will the night to come,
maybe it will come quickly.
"Quickly". Sour, crab-monster word.
If time moved as fast as I wanted,
I'm sure I'd be dead.
When night finally arrives,
I can see a flash of light probing the moon.
Aliens watch our independence day,
oohing and aweing at the misfortune of the burdened stars.
And like Reagan,
I only wanted Star Wars to be a reality.

Nourishment

Lemony sun, I have rested in your zest.

you buttered my skin with a sultry sweat

and like a violent roach, I run for shade.

Fall, it brings loops and swirls to my heart

the season blossoms, and regurgitates summers bliss.

Keeping my hands in it's warm embrace, a leaf appears.

I pick it up, if leaves were made of metal

I would surround myself in their cool buildings.

cool to the touch, not the sound.

my imagination, once pale and hardly weaned,

repeats the same thing to me,

nourishment.

so like a wilting flower,

I lean towards the sun.

reminding me that shadows should never be slept in.

Away from love

Things I dreamt about in my pile of normal;

my black and white existence, 

my palace of average, 

were bleak re runs of lives I'd seen lived before.

you slipped your hand in my one size fits all soul

and when your fingers were dripping,

saturated with who I am, and who I've been

the misery of being away from you

over powers and overwhelms any beautiful place

I may be.

burn

The night sky

what a thing.

You're asleep.

and I can just picture

the beauty that lies on your bed.

how lucky the sheets are

that hold you,

and if they knew anything.

they'd hold you tight.

I made the mistake of letting you go.

so I lie in my bed, glaring at the sheets of my own.

They glow red, even in the darkness.

because that's the color I chose.

I chose red sheets, because they match my red walls.

Because I love the color red.

And in my own fascination of 

things pretty and bold.

I lie still, hating my hands for ever letting go of yours.

I realize that my obsession for things red, and gorgeous 

is none other than my love for heat.

I realize I am in love with things that will burn me.

I grow tired of my usual,

so I try something new and head for the door.

I reach for the handle, and my skin feels cool.

and after barrels and barrels

of sweat drips from my red hot room

my forehead quickly returns to skin, 

and I fall in love with the cloudy night sky.

I have the urge to dance in the rain

but I have forgotten my rain dance, 

so I sit in the most naked area I can find.

I fall in love with the exposure of wind,

and the sexy night sounds.

and my ridiculous obsession is cured.

For once, I find blue beautiful.

I start touching nothing, 

just lifting my hands into the air.

and for once, I enjoy nothing but beauty.

and for once, something beautiful does not burn me.

add ick.

And so the addiction begins

the addiction I find among your very mouth

the cancer you've poured into me, 

it kills anything I once was

and it thrills me to know

that in this lifetime

you've let me lay in your open arms.

Run, because we're the last people that make sense.

Close my eyes, because I want you to still be the last thing I see.

You are the intensity of the sun,

Burning small images.

dots and grains

the same ones that spell out your name

in the light fixtures

they copy the sun.

Mess

god damn his lantern-esq smiles.

Lighting up the still night, under the blank canvas.

Melting my fingers into some sort of nicotine mess,

He doesn't know me, no, not yet.

 

Ugly

ugly: I let myself go, and I guess he didn't love that part of me. the natural me, is so ugly is so ugly covered up. maybe I'm ugly ugly because no one told me I wasn't. maybe I let myself go, because I had no where else to be.