Anyway

I'm nervous,

I'm nervous because you smile at me,

I'm frantic,

Frantic,

because you take the time

to search my eyes.

For files and pages

of hurt, and swollen ego

worn away memories.

Things that are so fragile

they wither away at my touch.

I wonder if you see me

trying to hide those things quickly

so you can remain smitten

by the things on the outside

which I can control.

I need to know now

that you aren't here

just to place me on your belt,

I need to know now,

while my head rests like a breathing tetris piece

beneath your beautiful chin.

If at the edge of my cliffs

You'll understand my love for flight.

I need to know if

while I'm resting on the bridge of your bones

you'll let me hum with your energy,

dwell in a cloud above your heart,

and after all that,

I need to know if you'll still focus your hands on mine.

I need to know if in February

you'll see me, and fall in love all over again in the orange light.

if you'll haunt me like a beautiful dream,

or if you'll haunt me like nightmares.

if at the end of the day

you'll rest me in your lap

and promise me,

I never needed to be

anyway-

just here.

Entralloholics

Breaking silence

in the midnight of a corner

in the wood of my wall

in the plug

of the socket

which rests in my wooden walls

I hold onto wordy moments.

The vibration of my phone

laying on my thigh,

I take a sip of whatever this drink is,

open up a virtual envelope,

and lose track of whatever it is

I'm doing.

You know you're an enthralloholic

when someone saying nothing

has you on the edge of your seat.

when saying what you mean

is just what you do.

and even if it was accidental,

it was the most beautiful accident you could have asked for

it was honesty.

at least when he's a million miles away,

at least when we're 2 states away,

we can talk about the weather,

And know we're not being plain.

At least when I miss you,

I miss your thoughts.

I miss knowing that somewhere,

you're there.

Look up,

the same moons I'm thanking,

are the same moons you're thanking.

and isn't it beautiful?

because I am enthralled,

tell me more.

tell me more.

tell me everything.

Enthralloholics-;

Becoming smitten with the feeling

of the fascination of another being.

stairs

Stairways

that's where it always was,

when I'd be assured that you loved me.

You've always loved me.

Mom would cradle me to her chest.

(and yes, she wasn't perfect)

but I resented her for hushing me,

calming me, lulling me to sleep

I wanted her to hate you,

so I could know,

it was okay to hate you like I did.

instead-

in a generic melody, she'd sing to me.

her lips, wet with my tears.

she'd sing that you loved me,

you've always loved me.

You'd say:

Wasn't it obvious

with my barbie doll trickery?

my disneyland love?

my occasional stories, and charming wit?

Doesn't your mother love you enough?

Doesn't she bare the strength of Samson,

with the heart of a mule?

Doesn't she feed you?

Hush baby,

it's mommas fault.

your serpentine tongue

always did salivate at the chance

of ruining the only things

I've ever loved.

Like the time you ruined my dolls,

my beautiful, beautiful dolls.

Like the time you ruined my mother.

my beautiful, beautiful mother.

It's her fault we can't be close,

and it's my fault for being born

and if I don't love jesus more,

and if I don't smile more.

And if I can't call you first

then what's the point?

"My darling child"

you'd hum,

you're so angry

you're so weak

you're so tired

you're so old.

You're just like you're mother.

At the staircase on the third step

the step with the creak

that would squeel at night

when I'd steal cokes from the fridge.

I'll curl up on my mothers lap

(the lap you hate)

listening to her defend my name

my 6 year old name

my 12 year old name

my 15 year old name

my 18 year old name.

I'd listen to you -

like the time you broke my beautiful dolls

like the time you broke my beautiful mother.

and she'd scream

she'd cry.

and she'd hang up.

"he loves you baby, just not today."

suddenly the sound of your voice.

was the first taste of the carmel carbonation

the drink that is too painful to swallow.

the drink that makes you sneeze.

"You're just like your mother."

Didn't you tell me

just yesterday

that you hated her?

And I'm just like my mother.

so beautiful

so funny

so free.

And I'm just like my mother.

spiteful.

angry.

hurt.

Look into these eyes of mine,

these eyes of my mother.

shout at me,

guilt me,

I only ask

that you look into these eyes,

they are the eyes of my mother.

burn burn

Every kiss,

is a burn.

embers connecting veins

and I am on fire.

Reno

It's not just the place,

this Reno mindset is really something cold.

I can't order a drink,

without being fucked by diamond eyes

begging for a glimpse

of my future

ending in the intersection of

all you can eat

"Me"

Look at you, Looking at me

My name isn't a grunt to be followed by strange whistles

hissing with lust, powered by fleshy thrusts.

I am not the fruit of a loom,

I am the bastard of a midnight sheet sprawl.

If you have to be conceived in love, to love-

then I am a bee hive exploding with vinegar.

This honey of mine was tainted long ago.

And it drips down the hands of those

"eager" enough to be swayed by the minute long

sugary taste of my bottom lip.

Don't you think I grow weary of keeping hearts in jars?

unlabeled,

simply because they all beat the same.

Sure, he was wounded,

Just a baby fallen from a healthy nest.

Of course I jaded him,

it was the taste of my organic sin

that melted him into a puddle

and reduced him to a simmer,

flipped him once,

and burnt his side.

but he loves me so much,

He'd take off his own sweater

and lay it at my feet

so I wouldn't soak my shoe

in his egg yoke existence.

And sure, I'm a terrible person.

I never fell,

I was stolen from my healthy home.

and hand fed mens hearts

until I grew wild-eyed,

God help you now,

Looking at me,

I am hungry for revenge.

Pieces

The devil has laced my heart with something foul.

I can feel it consuming the reddest parts,

turning whole parts grey.

I lay on a mirror,

hoping to see a reflection of a soul I once knew.

Someone like me.

But there lies a problem

like a pebble buried under boa constricting sand.

No part of me, is ready to give this up.

No part of me can sit still long enough

to hear a heartbeat,

to melt with someone

to lay next to anyone.

I am restless, without a doubt.

Obnoxiously numb, and fearfully forgetful

of all the times

you were laying with me,

but your heart was resting some place else.

My resignation, with love,

Heaven:

I can find spaces

clear spaces,

shadows in the corners of my mind.

I close my eyes, and see them

lace clear.

There are curtains and buildings

and miles and miles of cactus,

this is where I find you.

I've spent days dwelling here,

barefoot, and silent.

Watching my subconscious devour our love.

In the smallest building, I walk slowly-

touch the velvet on the walls,

and happily lose my mind.

Because here, I don't need it.

Here, I can feel.

I throw my head back,

I am an owl, looking for you

in every crease of this dream.

Searching for my weak mouse,

I can see you now,

scratching at the sides of this maze.

But I know,

I shouldn't look.

You are a peep show,

burlesque, frowned upon, fragile skin.

Here I am alone with you,

keep looking.

keep looking.

Here you are, a perfect archetype.

Here I am, dressed in white.

Doesn't it remind you of the summer

I first became your dove?

Doesn't it remind you of the nights

we refused to be alone?

Falling- Catching myself,

believing in the dream-you.

more than I have believed

in my own true-born existence.

I reach for an unimportant gold-something.

And here I am,

all dressed in white

Doesn't that mean anything?

Here I have something gold,

don't you love gold?

Can't you speak?

Hell:

You flee from here,

sensing comfort beyond;

sedation, meditation, the bond of a bottle.

what you've come to know

more than these hands,

that gave you all of that,

if not more, in one touch.

You look straight through me,

fish eyed and scared.

Here I am, standing naked

doesn't that mean anything?

I came here to give you everything,

can't you just take something?

Can't you just say my name?

So I can hear the cement walls you build up around it.

So I can hear what unimportant people call me

when they want the satisfaction

of knowing I can never ignore myself.

They have offered me gold too you know.

And diamonds, and a place to sleep.

But all that is pyrite.

And here I am offering truth.

keep looking,

keep looking.

Earth:

my body is moved

and I can hear every seam of this dream

unstitch itself.

Please, before it's too late...

I am standing here, all in white.

Glowing in melting comfort.

Tell me,

doesn't it mean anything?

beautiful, buried and burning.

You can't light memories on fire.

just the paper drenched in the sweat

that caused you to wear your heart

where you never intended it to be.

I didn't judge the aim of your throw

as the anchor weighed me down

and you played pitiful strings

while I sunk to the sharks kingdom.

Instead, I gave off a remarkable glow

I made the night, turn to pastel day.

I saw your pupils shrink and simmer,

like a cooked sponge.

You reached for me with branches,

and lengths and lengths of charm.

oh how the iris of your eyes reflected immediate regret.

I saw the painting of you and I

blink and fade away.

and now you stare at the sunset

longing to bring me home.

cursing the evening sky

for bringing you dusk and damnable love.