i secretly try to trust
your words that i know
will only blow away
like eraser dust

but now no words come
from your mouth at all
making me numb
and watching me fall

tear droplets
match lips without blistex
dry and cracking
under the pressure
of your lies

i am wholly
passed dead
just leaving that place
for you to rest your head

undress me, my sweet
notice, please
that my creases are neat
wrinkles smooth away
like love, fools say

and now i stare
dripping succulent sex
from the tip of each
heaving, pink breast

i haven't smelled you in forever...
the length of our supposed journey together

insecurity should know
no presence here
but somehow still it found a way inside
only disguised...

as fear.

just wanted to drop a quick note. let you all know i AM still alive.

band camp is over this weekend. the 14 hour work days will come to a stop. i'll be back.

promise.

we jump and run around and sing loudly while we spend our days spinning on softball fields with crooked spray-painted lines. we practice and practice and practice until our arms go numb and our throats scratch hoarsely "five six seven eight."

we loose track of everything else going on in our lives. we miss out on a lot. even planning our own 23rd birthday.


but we don't mind all that much in the long run. it's the short run that's the hard part.

all of the dreams and good intentions in the world don't mean a thing if the one that you love doesn't share those feelings.

none of this matters... because you don't want it to.

all aboard

no. wait. you must have misheard. this iron train on a guilt trip to the corners of my mind is full and there is no room for any more passengers trying to hitch a ride.

this iron train full of lust and envy and regret has been ridden on for so many years and really is worn out. the tracks are deeply rooted and rusting with age and overuse.

this iron train would be better used elsewhere because no one ever comes back from its destination. tickets are hard to come by but the conductor is always on the lookout for those in need. that is his flaw, i suppose...

this iron train is tired. doing its job without question or hesitation takes a toll on the engine. the fire isn't burning as brightly as it used to.

it's time to shut this iron train down. it won't ever run again. so run the fuck along you little bastards and find somewhere else to loiter and suck the life out of.

Dear Sir or Madam:

Keeping the sex of it all wrapped up tight and hidden from no one but yourself... the knots pull hard on your heart and leave your eyes with a constant bulging. The urgency of your manner scares me.

Try and leave me some time to candy-coat the ugliness between us. I need this to be pretty. My sweet tooth has gone unsatisfied for longer than I care to remember but thank you for bringing that up.

Simple things like love and friendship grow monotonous and we cry hard at our boredom, still unwilling to change. We relate to miserables and worsen each other's mess with sympathy spills and the drama swirls all together as I flush it down.



"We're stuck in here," my grandmother says to me as we sit and listen to the music playing on the cheap stereo. "Won't anyone help me get out?"

it's great that you can perpetually live in your peripheral vision... but i'd rather look this in the eye.

lashes long enough to catch raindrops surround eyes the color of emeralds in direct sunlight. cheekbones tired with the pain of too much smiling boarder lips that tease me with every word spoken.

hours are washed away in thunderstorms that make visible the lightning soaring out of my chest towards his. one embrace that multiplied into three left me longing and dreaming of what is to become of this.

patience will drip from my fingers as i shove them into my pockets to prevent them from reaching out for him.

lying about this is just not necessary... i'm not digging the online world right now. i'm trying to live some life instead of just sitting and reflecting on it. i think i have been doing more than enough of the latter and would like to switch things up a little.

i'm sorry to those of you who only manage to keep tabs on me by reading my webpage... this current lack of interest will make things hard for you. i can only promise you that things will surely change in one way or another soon. there is a reason to write poetry again, but there are only certain eyes that it is written for.

there is no point in me sharing my world with people who don't know me as more than a browser window when i clearly do not spend enough time sharing it with the people who do. this is not an end. this is a new beginning.