Monday, June 23, 2014
The patterns I trace along your knee caps while we wait for the bus are all the secrets I will eventually form into words and share with you. But I like knowing that you're carrying them around for the world to see without even knowing it and still feeling triumphant before you have to decide if the weight of the words will break up our shoreline. But if I am lucky, like I think I will be, you'll allow our personal waves to rush real close and drag those words out into our ocean and our bodies will collide like all the water drops in the world do when they fall from the heaven and descend towards earth.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
The constant static cling that keeps bashing them together is causing these tremors within our pool of -~ships and there is a certain amount of distaste that stains my eyes, my lips, and my mind when I am surrounded by its force. There is a serious amount of strangeness that keeps the odd ball rolling around like a game of pinball. Everything lights up because you think you're in love but the lusty labors of your effects are only dissolving the reality that you've disconnected from. Be mindful that not everything is sunshine and your sun could disappear, the way it does at night, and you'll have nothing but a sense of loneliness, the same feeling you continuously try to stop with the overuse of people. People are not the answer. They are not the drug. They'll get you high and you'll end up dry because the shell of your self will still be nothing but a shell. Quit while your ahead, you cigarette people of absolute sadness. You don't have to over extend to appreciate things in love at a steady hand instead of crashing head first into stupidity. Enveloping your surroundings in goodbye and casting away on an island we won't want to visit when the shipwrecks. We'll be here, like always, but consider us before you allow yourself to forget us.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
unprepared for the generation and the generation ain't prepared. starving television sets send you off to bed and get inside your head. looming curiosity killed the cat with the snap back and the tough phase has ended with bitter romance. the streets open up, open house for youth, the streets close up, open house for youth. shooting soda pop to skip time, writing rhymes and committing crimes, the grime of the generation is popping corn for our lives. we've tuned in to the mass generation of 'i don't knows' and acronyms and its a scary time to be alive.