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.

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.

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?

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. 

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.