Friday, December 27, 2013

Be Cool Unto Me

This thoughtlessness envelops me when I am with you and I can't help but think of it as... It's reckless and fast and fleeting and absolutely perfect. I spent a while trying to figure out it's mechanics. I've made up useless math to add and subtract the immense feelings I have, but there is no logic to my… It is irrational and toxic but entirely beautiful. We manage to create and destroy each other every time, without fail, and as much as I need to be comforted I want to be seduced and dismantled. Love's blade has decided to fall across me and I am in no way fearless as I am triumph against its coolness.
Be cool unto me, so that I in return can make you hot.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Hot Licorice Pieces

His lips changed into a deep red and flushed with heat and while I kissed him I couldn't help but think of hot licorice pieces. I wanted to keep him at the tip of my tongue for as long as I could, I liked the way we seemed almost attached with our faces so close. We created our own kind of heartbeat with movements and touching and synced breathing as if we were one human unit. I liked his hot whisper on my skin, the wetness writing a scripture on my hips, the climax heightening towards the final word. My body silently begging for more and him responding as if we had in fact practiced this dance. There was a certain kind of serenity that formed in the act of shedding our clothes and morphing. I liked the nakedness and now it's not the same and the licorice pieces have all gone cold and I am waiting for you to come home and write another chapter under our sheets.

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Half in the Bag, Aerial View

the aerial view of my bedroom shows the stack of books beside my bed that i am meaning to read. there is a pile of clothes on the floor, close enough to the hamper and close enough to the closet that from this angle you won't be able to make out if they are clean or dirty. i often wish this was a pile of your clothes instead of mine. my desk, cluttered with paper and pencils, is a canvas of it's own accord. it draws you in like a game of 'I Spy' and you'll try to make out the names of the crayons, if you squint you might make out the 'blue-green'. My sheets from up here look as if there is a current to them, as if a rushing of slumber and passion engulfed the shore, lapping up close to the pillow cases. an oasis of thought and sleep, a half in the bag day dream of all that makes me.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Building's Heaving Guts

the building slightly heaves with all of the people living inside of it's belly. the walls absorb the chaos of those who fight and those who love inside of it. the creaking of the beds signal both passion and aggression and the muffled sighs are always left open ended. the walls stretch their ears in the night for a glimpse of nightmare. the building shelters people from the weather and each other. people stay put, waiting for things to settle. dust flakes from the interior of the structure and falls into glasses of water, on to tops of heads, and into boots left discarded by locked doors. the building is full, feeling queasy. the people rush to and fro, eagerly trying to escape all the while coming back. the building heaves with all of it's residents inside it's guts. 

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Encouraging the Burn

Disconnected pieces,
from the same fragile things,
trying to erase the madness
but these kind of stings
linger and stay, they seem
to leave a stain and when the
flood gates open there is
surely no reasoning...
For the tide is high and always
changing, for the elements
are forever deceiving. And
there is no means to an end
while we're here, patrons in a
deathly scare, an audience begging
to look a different way,
we're circulating in this tailspin.
And while the mayhem continues
to unfold we try to harbor
mixed emotions in the centerfolds
of old photo albums we're
encouraging ourselves to burn.

Saturday, November 9, 2013


words sit perched on the tip of my tongue, 
and into the cold world. lifted by a slight exhale, 
we see these words flutter to a spark
that rests within the lining of your coat. 
i pray for my words to linger there long enough 
to ignite and send the exact meaning of what i am trying 
to confess throughout your body. 
my words, airborne and alive, 
search within your warmth for a spot to untangle 
it's punctuation and truly come alive.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Artist and Tenant

i'd like to trace a map
on your skin with the
tip of my finger. it sounds
like this has been done before
but not with your skin, and
not with my finger. we ought
to create this picture.
i'd like to etch a canvas
of vast wonders and rolling
hills on the curve of your
shoulder blade and create this
every lasting river that would work
it's way through the buckles
of your spine. i want to draw
these feverish trees 
that would outstretch to grasp your own
arms, a companionship. i want to
live in the picture, be warmed
by your warmth. i want to be the
artist and the tenant. i'd
like for you to carry this picture
around under your clothes and bring
it back to me to further explore.
i want to find pieces of you
finding pieces of me and
then our fingertips could create
a different kind of picture,
a mix matched image of each other.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

Painfully Passionate

i fled my own train of thought becuase i knew the rails were leading to a brick wall that looked a lot like your calloused hands. i feared your video game tactics and the way you could manipulate my body to forget what my heart and brain were screaming. my pulse lied, quickened in rapid succession, blurring my mind to reel in what could've possibly been pain or passion. i've always been painfully passionate about you. the idea caused a rubber necking affect, and i surely had put my neck on the line one too many times for you. a tell tale sign of masochistic tendencies did brew like a pot of burnt coffee on my countertop nexted to my stale depiction of us.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

You Look As If You Don't Believe in the Beach

You look as if you don't believe in the beach. 
You've got an indicative tone with the way 
you consult the sky and how you try to define 
it's line where it may or may not meet the edges of the world. 
There is a constant shifting being applied to everything
 you hear as if the world is out to get you.
An overcautious prowl with a quick whip attitude
you go looking for trouble, get into trouble, stay in trouble.
There is a pocket full of questions, the right side of your jeans.
You debate the jean vs. gene theory with yourself.
You tell me all of your concerns.
There are a lot of concerns.
You doubt your existence.
And mine.
The forced attention on the beauty
within yourself is fading quickly.
Your attention is demanded elsewhere.
You demand to be elsewhere.
Where beaches don't exist.
And you can play in the concrete. 

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Shaker Full of Mixed Emotions

A thunderous feeling rolls in just behind the temples and as if its an expert in Morse code it sends tiny vibes throughout the mind telling the body to react. A wave of indifference shocks the system causing an instant recoil. Contemplation creeps up the spine and forces the shoulder to edge forward. Knees shake, a personal quake, and bring the body down to a slump. The angel and devil combo, that once rested on the perch of shoulders, now battles in the gut and costs the body an arms worth of mental anguish. The body strives for a certain company, longs for rain without an umbrella, but the mind and it's logic beg for shelter. A constant dog pile of thought and feeling. A shaker full of mixed emotions and not a single cocktail glass in sight. 

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Froth From Your Words

The manipulation is stronger than salt here but burning the wounds just the same. There is pain in the words as they froth from your mouth and into my direction. I can feel the weight of that froth on my skin and soon it'll cool and stain and I will be reminded of such malice every time I look in the mirror. I've been avoiding my reflection because of the place you have decided to settle behind my eyes. I can't help but see little flecks of you in my complexion. You've become a sort of virus, attaching yourself to the likes of me. I am trying to become unlikeable in spite of you so that I can carry myself, alone, and you in a brief case. A case, that I can see myself so clearly, taking to the overpass and letting it fly like a fourth of July rocket and you will no longer be artificially noble to me. 

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Covered in Pent Up Static

a dark cloud rolls in and your presents is italicized by the way my entire body revolts our must-have interaction. i recoil into myself, keeping all ill-mannered words at bay because the ruining of you would in fact ruin me, i'm trying to be a bigger person. the veil of immense discomfort envelopes me and i'm pleading with a morbid mailman to send me on my way because i can't be here without getting myself into trouble over you. i'm secretly sending daggers in your direction with my mind but the contours of my cranium are covered in static of pent up anger that i think by the time they land on your awful hair style they are no sharper then a toothpick. my mind is as powerful as a cupcake when inflamed in an energy so toxic, i am probably causing myself internal bleeding.  i am bartering with any super natural force that will hear me out and help you vanish from my life, however i think they might been a little too keen on the entertainment my self loathing is providing them while you continue to linger in the spotlight of my day. sometimes i wish my days were like a Shakespearean play and we could all just die with great creativity, and i would have a soliloquy telling the audience just how much pain you are causing me.

Unconcerned Concerns, Concerning You

i am beginning to be unconcerned with the concerns that once concerned me, and this in itself can be awfully concerning. i am not considering the weight of such entanglements to be daunting as a bear trap that everyone seems to make them out to be. i understand the pros and cons of life and that every up in fact has a down, but that's gravity, i am beginning to be unconcerned with gravity as well, i guess. the concerns that concern us don't consider us in the matter, they create blunders and pressure when we cannot demand to be left alone. i am disregarding the concerns that weigh me down, that keep me up at night, that create the sort of lurking feeling. i am beginning to be unconcerned with the concerns that once concerned me and this doesn't concern me whatsoever.

Monday, October 7, 2013

Won't You Snack on Me

sometimes i think our life is like a bowl of popcorn and the only thing keeping us together is the lightness of it's structure. other times we're like a bag of chips and everything is crumbling and we're all full of air but then we deflate and the lightness returns. i prefer when we're like a bowl of pretzels, all twisted up in each other. sometimes we feel half full and i realize that one of us is more involved in the other and devouring everything we've created, there is a lightness in this as well, but unlike the fluff i feel suffocated in the uncertainty of a refill. your mouth is like a soft drink and can make me pop and fizz. food for thought, won't you snack on me?

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Mermaids for Adidas, Mermen for Wrist Watches

Acidic mermaids day dreamed 
about wearing Adidas while polishing
their scaly tales on a hunk of rock,
shaped like a nipple, just above the
water. While mermen sloshed about
just below the rock's crust under the water, 
waiting to maul their accomplishments with 
their Triton tongues. For mermen day dreamed
of wearing watches, but the fancy kind with a date
stamp and compass, not the all inclusive waterproof
brand that would further entrap them within their
watery existences. Acidic mermaids dreamed of
layups and mermen wanted so badly to splash them
with court side puddles.  Mermen wanted the opening
and closing of legs while mermaids were willing to
split their tails in no time. Everyone with different agendas
while wearing shoes and watches. 

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Highlighting The Human Condition

streaks of light come through the window and i'm not sure why they chose to be here. if i was light i would frolic where the colours are waiting for me to stroke them alive. these streaks of light coming through the window are only heating my depression and i'm not sure i could get any more uncomfortable. i want to ask them, what is your purpose? are they in fact tiny particles on a class trip, highlighting the human condition and lightly laughing at the words: fetal position. streaks of light come through the window and i don't have the will power to roll over to the other side of the bed where your shadow lies.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

My Sponsor Doesn't Find This To Be True

I stumble over you to get to know you because I think you'll tolerate me more when I am drunk. I confess endless amounts of love to you with the clink of a half empty glass because I think you'll find my wine stained lips to be much truer than my sober ones. I order another cocktail just to get your attention, and when I've got both, I drink em right up. I swirl the ice in the shallow of my glass to keep your eyes fixated on my, like toying with a cat with a laser pointer. I hiccup with anticipation, for another sip of you or this or that could make me absolutely wasted. I am an alcoholic for your love. My sponsor doesn't find this to be true. 

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Beg Me to Live Inside

the buildings tend to lurch like monsters as the shrinking sun says goodnight. i become weary with each broken pane of glass i see, tattered on window sills of once so-lovely creations. if those buildings could talk would they beg me to live inside of them, to keep my secrets in their walls. would they not only house me, but love me, as i do admire them in the rise and fall of the ever changing sun. the buildings here, look like vikings, strong and spent. i see the love they have thrown away in order to rise tall. the buildings here tend to lurch like monsters, 
and i see my reflection in the broken glass of their structures.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

My Love Drinks Because of You

a drunken confession of sober love. a drunken courage concurring sober fear. there is a sort of strength that you embody with each swig of beer, and there is a sort of lust that approaches with each sip of wine. i have this lusty strength for you. a sober thought while i'm half in the bag. i stumble in the right direction to make all of the wrong moves. i fumble with my phone to make out the right sentences to you, and in return, all the wrong spelling breaks my heart. a sense of calmness when i am usually so anxious around you. a loose affection, wound so tightly under the influence of both heart and substance. my love lacks this vigor when i am jaded by my conscious self, but in the blanket of absolution… i can surrender and love you more openly and more wildly, more possessively and intently than any sober love in me could ever do.. and to that and to you, I drink because of you.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

To Be The Condensation On Your Beer Bottle

the condensation appeared on your beer bottle. your hand grasped it and there was a slight clench of your wrist as you tried not to drop it. i encouraged with my eyes, trying to force your grasp to weaken and send that bottle crashing, so that I could appear and be your hero. you were stronger than the power of my eyes. the bottle raised to your lips and i willed myself to feel refreshed, as if you were sipping me down the length of your being. i longed to be the condensation on your beer bottle so that i could cling to your skin and remain until your heat evaporated me into your atmosphere. i imagined the sky then slowly blooming into darkness and the clouds releasing me down upon you in big heaping raindrops. I would pray for the sun to stay away as I cling to your beard and you ran for cover.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Love in Small Quantities

My love for you is a lot like my weekend to do list, it’s made up of a lot of little things but those little things usually have a much bigger affect on my days then you’d actually think. My love for you is fleeting, but present. It conjures up these raw and often metallic like sensations, festering quickly and gone just as fast. My love for you is icy and hot. It’s like a perfect fall day when you step in a puddle. I love you in the tiniest of quantities, like the way I love a raindrop on the tip of my eyelashes.

I love you like,
- A 1-ounce shot of tequila
That very first shot of the night that goes right to your head and burns the top of your throat for just one wonderful second, but ultimately leads to more 1 ounce shots and less burning..

I love you like,
- Two swipes of my purple lipstick, the kind that makes me feel like a mermaid and daring all the way up to the end of the night without ever having to reapply.. because starting the night off with a plum lip and going home with a lavender one smelling like bourbon is certainly a treat..

I love you like,
- the last cigarette of the night, the one that lights your tongue on fire and concludes an excellent concoction of mixed drinks and beer in the pit of your stomach..

I love you like,
- a hole in my stocking that is seemingly cute until the next time I wear them and I try to recollect why, just why did I let that happen..

I love you like,
- the tail end of my favourite song, and the trick the music does making you believe there is still two minutes left until it brings you up and knocks you down and 50 Cent comes on..

I love you like,
- avocados, because I never have a concrete answer for just how much I like everything about an avocado..

I love you like,
- change jingling in my pocket and the way the coolness feels against my fingers when I'm walking home and have this sudden urge to feel something..

I love you like when the street lights flicker on and then off again.

I love you like when someone has over paid the parking meter and I get to park for free.

I love you like when there is still enough ice cream in the carton for one more bowl.

I love you like returning my library books on time.

I love you like a fresh pot of coffee.

I love you like a brand new day.

I love you quickly and impulsively and spontaneously but absolutely wholly and entirely.