my mind - 11/21/10

Welcome, dear, to a wonderland
It's a mind that's left this land
But it isn't bright as Alice's was
It's dark and bloody and covered in mud
So put on some boots if you want to explore
But I warn you, dear, it's a dangerous chore
If you find something that you can't ignore
Better leave before you find anything more
This world will ruin your wishful thinking
So if you don't like the heat, get out of the kitchen
Depression is here, insanity present
The darkness of mistakes is grinning so pleasant
These are your roommates, they're so much fun
That most sarcastic bunch of anyone
So enjoy your stay, dear, you're here 'til you leave
But the memories stuck and are yours to deceive

Black Light - 11/21/10

If you need me,
I’ll be in space
Come and find me
Take me someplace
Bright

Rain casts light
In the night
As we walk
And we talk
The streetlights
Illuminate
My heart
So bright

High On Sighs - 11/20/10

There’s blood on my brain
Mixed in with the rain
Of tears that came
So many years ago
But won’t anymore
So paranoid
Of everything
An angel’s broken wings
From a man’s cruelty
And my inability
To do anything
To save her
To save her
So paranoid
Of leaving
Being left
Grieving
For what was

High on energy drinks
High on the dark things I think
High on sighs
High on lies
High on believing
High on being

So we’re back to the blood
So we’re back to the love
So I’m running from
Everything I’ve done
Extra credit to cry
Not for me
Late night daydreams
Sleepless schemes
Midnight coffee
Lunch time insanity

High on energy drinks
High on the dark things I think
High on sighs
High on lies
High on believing
High on being

Bad Magic - 11/20/10

Falling back to bad habits
Falling back to dark times
We all know where this rhyme
Is going

Black cherry energy drinks
Chocolate chip cookie
Perpetual insanity
Bloody instability

Run, run, run, run,
Run away
Cuz we can’t, can’t, can’t, can’t,
Cannot stay
My mind’s going
My heart’s blowing
So don’t go away
Let’s dance to rap beats we hate
Pretend there’s no need to escape
That we ran for fun
Cuz we’re that madly in love

Teach me to see
Love the dependability
Thinking perpetually
About you and me

Lines and verses
On my legs
Telling stories
About good and bad days

Learning things
That I could never see
Seeing things
That I just can’t believe

Run, run, run, run,
Run away
Cuz we can’t, can’t, can’t, can’t,
Cannot stay
My mind’s going
My heart’s blowing
So don’t go away
Let’s dance to rap beats we hate
Pretend there’s no need to escape
That we ran for fun
Cuz we’re that madly in love

Falling back to somewhere
Falling back to sometime
Don’t you know where this rhyme
Is heading?

Easier and easier
Don’t look back
Don’t believe
In anything
That you can see

Run, run, run, run,
Run away
Cuz we can’t, can’t, can’t, can’t,
Cannot stay
My mind’s going
My heart’s blowing
So don’t go away
Let’s dance to rap beats we hate
Pretend there’s no need to escape
That we ran for fun
Cuz we’re that madly in love

It is Better to Forget - 11/14/10

I want to write everything
Every word
In the right combination
With the right spacing
And separation
So that my words form an arrow
To hit right through
The heart of whoever did this.

Some world we live in
Where it is better to forget
Then to know
Because the things we know
Are dark
Are scary
Are scarred.

What a world we live in
Where we step out of our homes
And fear.
Where we step into our homes
And fear.
Where suicide is an escape
And murder combats murder,
Where accidents and insanity
Weight the dice of justice
And Justice herself sees all
But does nothing.

What a world we live in
Where we are told to love our neighbors
And then to kill them
If they are not what we think they should be.
Where those preaching the sanctity of marriage
Are those who defile it
With the fifty percent divorce rate.
Where the strong leaders of our world
Are slaves
To their own desires.

What a world we live in
Where we spend more money
On weapons to destroy now
Than on knowledge
To secure a future.
Where we fight over oil
Rather than dying children.

Do you not see this world?
Do you not smell the death,
Hear the sirens,
Taste the blood,
Feel the hate?
It is everywhere.

I want to write
A poem for each problem
The likes of which
Will change the hearts
Of every being who reads it.
I want to align letters
And spaces
Just so
And create a heart-wrenching art
That will make a difference.
But I am no more than any before.
They have failed,
So shall I.

A persistent seed of thought
Has been growing in my mind,
That fire will burn everything,
Even fire.
That in the time we waste
Finding a perfectly
Peaceful solution,
More will die than if we end it now.

What a world we live in
Where the powerful don’t care
And the weak want to do good.

For young girls and old men,
For teenage boys and young mothers,
For the media whores
And the political bores,
For the sluts and the junkies,
For the honest criminals,
For the deceitful juries,
For the teen suicides,
For gay pride,
For homophobic bastards
And generic Prozac perfection,
For broken homes and broken hearts,
For lovers and rapists,
For mothers and murderers,
For children and soldiers
And for child soldiers,
For cancer patients in Hawaii
And young girls with heart failure,
For the bipolar best friend,
The schizophrenic college student,
The depressed genius,
For dealers and doctors
And for pharmaceutical representatives,
For bombers and beauty queens,
For veterans and their children,
For those who didn’t come back,
For those who aren’t going to,
For musicians who sell out
And those who can’t continue to play,
For writers of fiction
And for readers who believe every word,
For boyfriends and girlfriends,
For best friends and enemies,
For fighters,
For workers,
For strangers,
For the bums and the rich,
For shamans and spirits,
For the ghosts and the shy,
For myself
And for you,
Whoever you are:

I do not have the words to change.
But I have these words.
And, now,
So do you.

Sweet and Sour Lullaby - 11/14/10

I’ve got
One song
For the way I’m always feeling
Hollow and kneeling
Overcome, but dealing

It’s a sweet and sour lullaby
The kind that makes me cry
The kind that makes me smile wide
The kind that make me hurt inside

Tried and true
This is what it comes to
This one soul
That it feels like I stole

With a voice so light
For words so dark
That strike a spark
In any heart
That listens

If it’s destruction
Your reluctance
Is seeking this evening
Then you’re in luck
Here, it comes easy

Pleased to Meet You - 11/07/10

Hello, Ms. Temptation
I’ve heard your contemplation
Of universal equations
And your lack of motivation
So darling, meet Mr. Devastation
Looking for some great fornication
You two would be such a sensation

Can you feel my bones?
They think they’re all alone
And they think they hear the stars
Screaming, “Girl, you’re going far!”
But I don’t hear anything
Beyond my own muffled screams
From the ripping seams
Of my heart strings

I’ll let the sad songs cry for me
I’ll let the monsters kill for me
I’ll let the movies live for me
But I’m won’t let a thing save me

Let me lay it on the level
I am so pleased to meet you, Devil
Did you get my message?
Won’t you rescue me from Heaven?
Ms. Temptation took me whole
So I’m willing to sell you my soul
It’s no longer such a toll
Just get me out of this perfect role

After Mr. Devastation’s tricking
I find I’m lacking the conviction
To change the path I’m tipping
From his terrible predication
It’s a sticky situation
But it’s killing Miss Perfection
So I guess I’m in the right direction

Can you feel my bones?
They think they’re all alone
And they think they hear the stars
Screaming, “Girl, you’re going far!”
But I don’t hear anything
Beyond my own muffled screams
From the ripping seams
Of my heart strings

I can come so high, just fall so low
On a winning streak, up to a deathly blow
And so the story goes, as everybody knows
There’s no room for girls walking on tiptoes

Old Mr. Sleep is overrated
And almost close to jaded
Compared to the my amazing
Mr. Copulation
Keep me up all night
With your own source of light
Insomnia is quite alright

Even when sore and tired
Almost expired
From days and days
Of deprivation and haze
I’d still marry Ms. Temptation
To the terrible Mr. Devastation

You see, Newton got it all wrong
His equations don't work beyond
His own realm of thought
And I can see it won’t be long
Until out new math is proven wrong
And a new mistake is wrought

Can you feel my bones?
They think they’re all alone
And they think they hear the stars
Screaming, “Girl, you’re going far!”
But I don’t hear anything
Beyond my own muffled screams
From the ripping seams
Of my heart strings

Anger, Not Sorrow - 10/16/10

The neon lights
Of life
Are fadin’
As I’m running
Away form them

Well I was on top
Of Everest
And I saw the world
And it was all the same
Up there on Everest
The air’s so thin
No one could hear me scream
So I jumped all the way down
To the ocean floor
Below the ground
Cuz I never learned
How to break down

Say I’ve got sixty more year
‘Til I’m out the door
But I don’t think
That I’ve got
Any more than 44
Don’t ask me for the answers
Cuz I’ve never really known
Every “A” has been a suicide
A reason to be alone

Sweet 16
I’m not so sweet
If you could see me
You would scream
Cuz I’m only sweet
To the bugs who crawl
And creep
And eat me
I’m just a freak

There are no more bubbles
Rising from the water
It’s all over
No more tomorrow
As it’s always been
At least here
In this mess
Things make sense

I can see
Infinity
And, damn,
It scares me
To be nobody
Is a freeing thing
To be

Say I’ve got sixty more year
‘Til I’m out the door
But I don’t think
That I’ve got
Any more than 44
Don’t ask me for the answers
Cuz I’ve never really known
Every “A” has been a suicide
A reason to be alone

Anger, not sorrow
Anger, not sorrow
Anger, not sorrow
Someone help me
Leave everything
Behind
So I can finally
Sleep at night

The blood
Oh, the blood
My blood
It floods
It flees
From my skin
Cuz it can’t take
The state I’m in
And who could blame it?

Moonlight - 10/14/10

Sleepy eyelids cannot see
the way that wide ones can,
and with my eyelids drooping
dropping, dragging
still trying to stay awake
the things I see are shadows,
but not for lack of light:
your chin haloed like an eclipse
by headlights that flicker by,
street lamps that stand impassive as we move.
The hint of your lips,
not full, just the bottom one
smooth, soft, velvety to sleepy sight
and my resire to reach out
and stroke those lovely lips
curved gently upward,
not a grin, just a peaceful,
simple smile
that I hope has something to do
with my weary head
on your shoulder.
I notice, through sleep,
that every time the car turns sharply
and forced beyond our control
sway my listless form from you,
your grip on my hand tightens.

Pull me back, I'm much happier with you.

The vibrations of the car
pulse frequencies of everything rattling
our hands included,
wavelengths matching up,
crest to crest, trough to trough,
until I feel something like numbness
but in it the wholeness so longed for:
I cannot feel where my fingers end
and your knuckles begin,
the separation between our palms.
I almost hate every affectionate squeez
making me tell the difference
between you and me.

10/11/10 - 10/11/10

I know nothing
relativly
something
but anyhting
is everything
when it come
to certain things
the one fact
that won the debate
the one case
that should have been made
one little
twitch
flick
slip
and the life drips
out of the shell
the cup shatters
upon the ground

Nature Walk - 09/23/10

Death in the vivid life of nature:
leaves on the ground,
apart from the tree,
we call so green and rejuvenating,
really a lack there of.
The ground is blanketed in bodies.

Some are old,
already shrivled
and they crunch
with the same sharp
click
as my pencil breaking.
They are brown,
all their original green drained,
sucked into the soil below,
into the grass,
into the ancient tree roots,
into the baby worms.
They are heavy,
do not rustle gently in the wind,
do not lift from the earth
and dance spiritually
on a passing breeze.

But some are still bleeding.
Freshly fallen leaves of yellow,
with trickling veins of green
still so prominent
on the soft ground.
Young bodies,
bright, beautiful, benevolent.
What shall become of these?
These children of the world?
Falling before their time
or maybe ripped from branches
by beings more childish than they.
These ones flit and flutter,
spin softly and sputter,
spiraling sweetly back to the soil
when the wind ceases.
So light and lofty,
a satisfied sigh,
a lover's lament,
a gracious gust from gods
still so unknown.
Spirited souls of shimmering leaves,
where fly thee?
To the arms of power?
To the lips of love?
Or to the warm dirt?
To a new world
or a new beginning
or just back to
where you came?
Is your energy not conserved
as it transfers
back to the earth?

09/22/10 - 09/22/10

Thinking
Sinking
Mingled tingling
Beginning
To pull rapidly
On the capacity
Of the brain
The limit of the mind
Tug of gravity
Altered reality
Unsure stability

09/21/10 - 09/21/10

Privacy
Won't you tell me
What you see
In intimacy?
Is it clarity?
Curiosity?
Does memory
Draw us closely?

09/17/10 - 09/17/10

nervous ticks
dog new tricks
bloody thorn pricks
sick of being sick
only makes me
much more sick
not for lack of wish
to get better
to enjoy the weather
that's slowly changing
rearranging
the seasons
the cold air
the rain
not that i'm complaining
i like the changing
but not the wet
that makes me sick
and sick
and sicker
much quicker
but it's prettier
so worth it?
I think it
could it?
should it?
does it
matter?

A Typical Kid vs. Atypical Kid - 08/25/10

Bring it on
Bring it out
Why don't you kids
Whip 'em out
You gotta learn
To grow and glow
And have some fun
Before you blow
Mother's son
Fuck the sun
Screw the snow
And let's go
Let go

CHORUS:
Cross your heart
Hope to fly
Open your brain
Close your eyes
Back to start
Reach up high
Accept the insane
Touch the sky
END

Fireworks
And TNT
Kid, whatdya mean
Thinkin' they're
Different things
Adjacent lessons
Between
Therapy sessions
Have screwed your
comprehension
So you're young
and naive
It's better to believe
Take it from me
There are many things
You don't want
To see

CHORUS

A typical kid
Atypical kid
Bring your best head
Cuz this is it
It's lose or win
The ultimate
Sink or swim
It's about to begin
Cultivate
The brain seeds
You need
Open it
To all the weeds
Maybe you'll find one
That beats everything

CHORUS

My Life as a Tangereen - 08/24/10

nothing rhymes
with orange
not really, at least
some people think
that door hinge
does
but orange
is a lonely
word to use
in a poem

Diamond Blood - 08/23/10

Out of
The blackness
Of my mind
Two lines
Start to rhyme
There’s a beat
A spark
Of heat
In three four time

CHORUS:
Baby it’s raining diamonds
Can’t you see ‘em shining?
Making dents
In the cement
Or is it just me?

And don’t you know
It’s starting to get cold
Wind is blowing
Seasons showing
All the colors you can’t see

Who am I, who are you?
Does it matter what’s through?
Skin or blood?
Dirt or mud?
It’s all diamonds to me
END

Every scar
On my brain
Every memory
Of pain
Is all here
To entertain
In lyrical harmony
Or perhaps
Cacophony ?
Whichever springs
From misery

{CHORUS}

Tell me
Truly
Does it matter?
The diamond rain’s
Pitter patter
And the
Dying night
And fading laughter?
Flying knives
And red rivers
In the disaster
All just part
Of the universe’s
Coded chatter

{CHORUS}

Skin or blood?
Dirt or mud?
It’s all diamonds to me

Bring It - 08/21/10

I'm completely sick with ignoring the death toll
and always letting the bad guys win
I believe in a higher power than the human soul
and we call them dolphins

I'm going to blow
this whole world
away from where it is
if I die
I'll leave this place
better than it was
don't believe me?
don't follow me
it's not darkness
that'll swallow me
but you
when I'm though

I've sat by
through all the years
of all our fears

I'm another year older
and another brain cell bolder
and I'm ready
to take control
of my life

sorry
to those I leave behind
to those I've made cry
but I won't let you die

I'm going to blow
this whole world
away from where it is
if I die
I'll leave this place
better than it was
don't believe me?
don't follow me
it's not darkness
that'll swallow me
but you
when I'm though

it's my time
the world is mine
in the flip of a dime
I can decide your fate
but it's not too late
to make the right mistake
and take
this ride
for the final time

I Know Which Way - 08/14/10

let me tell you one thing
one last time
i'm sick of your texts
and pathetic lines
how many ways can i say
"God damn it, just go away?"
without being so blunt
and making this seem like my fault
stop it now
just shut up
you're a sociopath
and i'm giving up
there's a world of boys
around the corner
better looking
with better mental order
so beat it
see ya
wouldn't want to be ya

I Know Which Way - 08/14/10

let me tell you one thing
one last time
i'm sick of your texts
and pathetic lines
how many ways can i say
"God damn it, just go away?"
without being so blunt
and making this seem like my fault
stop it now
just shut up
you're a sociopath
and i'm giving up
there's a world of boys
around the corner
better looking
with better mental order
so beat it
see ya
wouldn't want to be ya

My Blood - 08/14/10

it's kinda fun
being under the gun
does something to my blood
makes it run

down to my feet
tapping out a beat
letting off some heat
yeah that's pretty neat
feel it in my fingers
and the numbness lingers
kinda tingle
like a catchy jingle
a look in the mirror
makes nothing clearer
know better than to ask twice
for your enemies advice

but there's something kinda fun
about being under the gun
does something to my blood
it makes it run

up to my ears
there's a POP and i can't hear

but it takes away any fear
now things look clear
let's be honest, everything's simple
your life is like a thimble
so easily lost

double-checked double-crossed
rhyme and reason have all been tossed
(whoa oh)
so exciting
(let's go)
so delighting
(two no shows?)
enlightening
(screw 'em both)
despite me

i'm on Vicodin - 08/13/10

i wanna grow life
in a jam jar
prove all the jar heads wrong
change the pace
to the human race
spike up the tread mill
down hill dash
don't crash
or if you do
just don't hit your head
not that
you use it
might loose
if you don't
but you won't
cuz i know
you're not flying that high
just a mile
or five
above the sea
as you can see
there's no better place to be
than beside me
crashing with me
whatcha say?
just one day
to blow your brains away
that's all it take
to kiss this death awake
the grim reaper is a prince
coming to take your breath away
so just stay
and you'll see
there's no better place to be
than a mile
or five
above the evening drive
crashing head on
to the past
where daydreams actually last
bring me back

Sparkles - 08/08/10

Shining
and spinning
and losing
and winning
and drifting
away
on the thoughts
and the dreams
the hopes
and the plagues
and the conspiracies
wishing
for a better world
wishing
for a boy or a girl
with that something
you long for
hope for
pray for
need
but it turns out
the world is
actually
just as bad
as it seems
so cook up a plan
lock yourself away
on a magical plan
to fix every being
into being
what you need

there's a world
beyond
my window
and she's calling
trees are falling
take me in
I'll help you win
because somewhere
I still believe

Screen Shot - 08/07/10

screen shot
punk rock
heart throb
next job
another round
of jello shots
British invasion
so long gone
the remnants twisted
in every new song
Howard Roark
still fights
a losing battle
for a creativity
incompatible
with modern thinking
independence sinking
in the oil
and the ocean
and the obvious
devotion
to conformity
Roark,
wouldn't you agree?
if you don't
please
tell me
what you see

Heroin Heroine - 08/06/10

Single moment
motion
movement
magic transformation
illumination
contemplation
of everything
so out of reach
now within
with a little lift
a kick
a soft hit
and that
becomes this
with the swift
turning of the globe
and it's all over
and over
and over again

Red Alert - 08/06/10

The inert gases
took all their classes
to keep in touch
with what's up
with the upside down world
like the good boys and girls
on life threatening drugs
and their parents
egging them on
and dealers
with PhD's
from Harvard,
Yale, and my MIT
all making us think
that we're all sinking
and slipping
and thinking
too much
or not enough
always in the gym
or on the couch, inert
heading for a red alert
cuz emotional twisting
is the new big sport

Water in My Veins - 07/29/10

tell me
what you think
of the ships
on the sea
tell me
what you see
in the water
blue and green
nothing in between
separate
the fish
from the flesh

you ask
what color is the rain
and i answer
the same as the water
in my veins

screeching
beating
car crash
siren
last laugh
dying
sound the alarm
take my arm
hold me close
as the world
like frayed thread
unravels
and we're all dead

you ask me
what color is pain
i answer
the same as the water
in my veins

Drifting - 07/29/10

12:
By morning -
Not the sun-and-awake morning,
But the past-midnight morning -
I crawl under the waves
Of blankets
And then out.
Turn down the tv,
So I can sleep.
I crawl under the waves
Of blankets
And then out.
Shut down the computer,
The blinking LED heartbeat
Keeping me up.
I crawl under the waves
Of blankets
And then out.

Too hot.
Too sticky.
Open a window?

Sirens,
Horn honks,
Car speakers thumping
Pumping
Bumping
In the not-so-dead of night.


1:
Blink, blink.
Toss, turn,
Sit up,
Shake my head as if
It will help
Clear all the thoughts out,
Dump them out
And onto the messy floor.
Slamming door across the hall,
Someone’s up for a snack.

2:
Back, side, stomach, other side.
Check the clock,
Another hour passed,
Insomnia?
I hope not.

3:
Burning
Turning
Churning
Nearly 16 years
Of never learning
How to fall asleep?

That’s just not right.

Breathe.
Slowly.
Steadily.
Don’t think.

But in order not to think,
One must think
About not thinking,

Also just not right.


4:
Silence.
This is the silent part of night.
But it isn’t night.
And the clock’s bright lights
Say another hour’s passed
With no shut eye.

5:
Could be cleaning,
Could be reading,
Could be doing anything except,
Apparently,
Sleeping.
Skydiving?
Sure.
Learning to drive?
Why not.
Resting, relaxing, reviving?

No.

6:
Screw you,
Mr. Sunshine,
So divine,
Just not right now.

Drift off finally,
Only to be awaken,
In two hours.

Pretty Neon Blue - 07/23/10

My wrists.
The backs of my hands.
The tops of my feet.

Upon those three,
in beautiful, elegant blue,
my blood runs clearly
as if it were out of my body.
It seems silly at times
to keep it in me.
The way these veins

pop

and stand out
like they were made
to be broken,
like it’s wrong
for that blood
to stay inside.
Such a silly thing.

In the insanity
that 2:22 in the morning brings,
I chuckle,
actually chuckle,
at the notion,
at the bloody notion.
It sounds fun.
I clench my fist,
make the veins pop more
and feel the nausea
of the destruction
hit my stomach like a brick,
relax my hand.

And smile.
Actually smile.

Smile at the thought,
the terrible thought,
of all the blood
dripping all over
my white tank top,
my black sheets,
the tan carpet,
the marble sink top,
everywhere,
a trail more clear
than bread crumbs,
the most potent
you’ll ever find.
Vibrant,
unnaturally bright.
And so silly.

Release Me - 07/23/10

The pen lifts from the page;
a bit of a smudge,
a loose dash,
a mess of over emotional penmanship;
with an air of finality.
Words without letters,
scrawled too fast to bother.
Blood dripping from the thin papers,
made more and more real
with each new word.
Fill that page,
and the next begins,
already a mess,
drops seeping from the previous one.
The urges,
the thoughts,
the feelings,
they all remain
even after the last word,
but subdued,
shortened,
cut
by the blatant
and obvious expression
and acceptance
of everything they are.
No shame in the hatred.
No terror in the blood.
And less guilt
in the insanity.
The veins on the wrist
of the body
of the hand
that wrote those words
still pop
flashing
like neon blue signs
screaming for attention,
but an effort to ignore them
is more easily made.
The thoughts will return,
of course,
and maybe one day
they’ll remain,
even after the last painful word.

Promises and Criminals - 07/23/10

“You’re a freak
And you’re weak
And you’re better off dead”

“You’re a freak
And you’re weak
And you’re better off dead”

“You’re a freak
And you’re weak
And you’re better off dead”

I lay in the darkness
of night
but also of something more,
something within the head
that repeats those words
those terrible words,
to itself,
saying, over and over,

“You’re a freak
And you’re weak
And you’re better off dead”

In the darkness,
covered but not protected,
shrouded but not hid,
the flesh on my legs,
on my wrists,
the paper that holds
my blood
in my veins

SCREAMS

to be ripped
to be cut
        cut
        cut
with quick and emotional
slashes to be torn
to be disgraced.
They beg for promises
to be forsaken.
They pled
for a need
we both have,
for something
to mean something,
for a feeling
other than the darkness.
Happiness is out of reach,
except for in lies,
which I take in public,
but not in the private
of my demented head.
Alone,
the thoughts persist,
the screams echo
in the silence
and the vacuum
that a mind creates
as it collapses in upon itself,
like a black hole,
consumed by its own hatred,
hatred for nothing more
and nothing less
than itself.
It is in the darkness
that the words persist
and hiss
in the shadows,
tearing me from rest,
but not yet slumber
to write words that hurt
far more than any cut,
to write them
and make them real,
to hurt myself more
than any blade could.

“You’re a freak
And you’re weak
And you’re better off dead”

Words I wrote originally.
Words meant for me
and only me.
Words to kill myself,
to hold the cold gun
to my temple
and to shoot.

Word that spill out
rushed,
scribbled,
heard to read,
in the hurry
to finish
and free myself
of writing words
that kill myself.
But it was I
that did
enslave myself
to write
such words
that kill.

And to this effect,
in this extent,
every promise not to
physically hurt myself
is kept completely.

But I am hurt.

This pen I hold
and move across paper,
quickly and irritably,
hurts,
though it doesn’t stab
nor cut
nor slash,
merely dash
across the page
writing words
whose meaning seeps
into my blood
with the finality
of my fate,
of my destiny
that I look forward
to even as I wish
I didn’t.
The words:

“You’re a freak
And you’re weak
And you’re better off dead”

push me along
not resting,
no motivation to resist,
as my head swims gaily with
sick images
of my own bleeding body
sprawled artistically
in agony,
a pencil jutting from my
ruptured trachea.

No fear.
No worry.
No contempt.
Nothing to stop the thoughts
except guilt
that someone disapproves,
is possibly hurt
because he loves,
and what a fool for loving me
he must  be.
But the guilt
does not vanquish the bloody image,
does not silence the flesh’s scream,
does not sooth my wrists’ itch.

It encourages it,
fueling the self-destructive flames
with more self hate.
It screams back

“You’re a freak
And you’re weak
And you’re better off dead”

“You’re a freak
And you’re weak
And you’re better off dead”



But don’t worry.
Not a soul worry.
I wouldn’t dare
actually make myself bleed.
I’m bound by a promise
that turns every thought
into guilt,
into those lines,
and makes the thinker,
makes me,
a criminal,
a horror,
a monster,
a bitch.

I am a bitch.

And what a selfish one too.
Needing contact
to keep my own life,
needing someone else’s
approval
to like myself.
What a dirty whore.
What a freak.
How weak.

I am better off dead.

Jealous of the Trees - 07/15/10

Jealous;
green with envy,
red with rage,
black with heartbreak,
blue with sorrow,
white with pain,
rosy with embarrassment,
and purple with stress;

what a rainbow I am:

making something bright
from the
drear
of the

pitter patter pitter patter slip and splatter

of the rain
on the cold cement.
But it’s summer,
so there’s little rain,
so I suppose
I’m just the mist
from the garden hose
as it brings to life
the shriveled and dying plants,
brown and gray
from the sun.
Dead and useless.
No need for them,
no help for them,
no want for them,


yet jealous of them?


Yes,
jealous of the dead things:
the way they
scrape
against each other
in the wind,
beating out an eerie music;
the way they break apart
so easily,
so happily,
break down,
and float away
on a gentle breeze
that makes them make their music.

And the wind, too.
How it moves,
untouched by howls and screams
and pain and dreams
and broken hearts and poetry
and death and longevity.

And forget not the trees:
stable,
sturdy,
strong,
even the saplings
spring forth with
shrill and
soft determination
unlike anything
I’ve ever seen
in man or plant
or bug or beast,
grow the trees
with strength unmatched,
minus,
of course,
the ax.



And the weeds.
Yes,
the weeds.
The prettiest flowers
I’ve ever seen
that grow in
the sidewalk cracks
and the gravel
and the gutters
and the gardens
and anywhere else possible.
Living anywhere, anyway.
And surviving.

Even thriving.

The Road Goes On Without Us - 07/15/10

if we all
were dead,
sure,
no more pain,
but no one
to appreciate
the magic of
the lack of
tears

so, no matter
what is said,
by dead
or dying men,
there’s a reason,
some reason,
to fight
for your life
against your own
caving heart

Freak - 07/15/10

Three of the words
I hate the most,
I say the most:
I don’t know.

I can’t bare not to know,
anything
everything
something,
and therefore
nothing.
I want to know everything,
so I must learn nothing,
too.
But not knowing,
and knowing nothing
are not the same,
not by a long shot,
no where near.
And I don’t know right now.

Don’t know things I’d like to know,
things I want to know,
things I need to know
but the universe
is keeping it on a need to know basis,
and apparently
I don’t need to know.
But I do.
Or,
I’d like to.
But I don’t.


I miss you.
Deeply.
And the lack
of your words
on the screen
is making me think
that maybe it’s me,
that I’ve done something,
said something,

wrote something?
Could that be?

It’s just making me
empty,
dead,
worried,
and filling my head
with thoughts
that I’m trying really hard
not to think
but those thoughts sink
into my skull
like bullets fired at my head
and tell me
“you’re a freak,
and you’re weak,
and you’re better off dead”
and I just wish
I could know something else instead,
but there’s a lack
of facts
so the thoughts
are all I have.

Pretty Patterns in the Blood - 07/14/10

Killed by the 7th alcohol induced heart attack
Killed in a suicidal overdose of Prozac
Killed in a midnight car crash
The blackness is taking all its souls back
And making pretty patterns in the blood
Like crooked heartbeats in love
And all just because
I’m never sure what I’m thinking of
It’s a messy in my head
Like under my bed
Feel like I’ll get sucked in
To the blackness within
Looking for a way out
Of the shadows of doubt
But I can’t find
A single ray of light

The Earth Isn't Flat, It's Cube - 07/14/10

White walls,
Paper sheets,
Everything clean
And bright.
Stack of kid’s magazines,
Messy with the clean.
Sterilized smell,
Nauseous
With the anticipation
Of the doctor’s return
Of my mother’s response.
List of doctors,
Brain doctors,
To talk to
Scrawled on a piece of paper
To my right.
Cube little room,
Walls closing in
Waiting
And waiting
And waiting

Veto the Addiction - 07/14/10

Say you’d pay
For a day
In my brain?
You’d just be paying
For a day
Of pain
A little
Masochistic?
Well, that’s okay
Join the club
Cuz even I’m
That way

And unfortunately
It ain’t just for
My poetry
That I’m this way
Ha, no way
Honest to the core
And probably
Gonna stay
That way

You see,
If there’s something
Wrong with me
Something that can’t
Be changed
Chained
To my brain
I’m not interested
In addiction
To make
It break
So put
The prescription
Pad away
Forget it, Doc,
I’m okay
This way

Am I tired
Or am I sad?
No one knows
Not even my own
Mom and dad
Cuz I hide it
Confide it
In few
I’ve made it
This far
This way
Who’s to say
Anything
Will really change?
I’ve got no interest
In it
So let it be
You see,
Even if there’s something
Wrong with me
It makes for
Damn fine
Poetry
So I think
I’ll stay
This way

Thank You - 07/10/10

there's a moment at night
at 1 in the morning
or 3
or 5
as i see the sunrise
through my window
still haven't been sleeping
and the insanity
starts creeping
in
and begins
to make me see spots
see strange little dots
on the walls
and the floors
and the ceiling
and the doors
it's at this moment
my brain
ain't what it should be
what it could be
could be nothing
should it be?
but no
no, there's a reason
there's a need
form people
I've never seen
they say I've got talent
they say I've got skills
I sometimes can't see it
but still
maybe
just maybe
and it's a reason
just another reason
I always need another reason
to keep doing what I do

Daydream - 07/08/10

Bring in the professionals
To sharpen the butter knives
Rock 'n' Roll heroes
With Hollywood wives
Lyrics about drugs and sex
Running out lives
Yet we say without it
We just can't survive

Stab me with a spoon
And I’ll fade away
I'm just a daydream
Doesn't matter what you say

Joe and Mike’s neon socks
Rancid’s Clash tribute
Begin
To make me think
That from your lyrics
I take too much in
If the preacher was right
And dancing's a sin
Then Hell's a dance floor
So, Devil, take me in

Stab me with a spoon
And I’ll fade away
I'm just a daydream
Doesn't matter what you say

I’m nothing more
Than a daydream
Soncocted by your
Lyrical scheme
Underneath the poetry
I sing my songs
To me and only me
Can you feel the beat?
Reverberating through
The summer heat?
If I could be famous for it
Well, wouldn't that be neat?

Stab me with a spoon
I'll fade away
I'm just a daydream
Doesn't matter what you say

Summer's So Hot - 07/06/10

with the sun
and the stars
and the gentle breezes
and the flowers in them
and the coals
and the swimming pools
or the lack there of
and the soft grass,
covered with dew,
sweet as the unripe raspberries
that sway in the wind,
grow so bulbs,
yet still tart,
and fall off
into the sweet grass
late at night
late in the deep purple night
like the ocean
rocking back and forth
in the heavens
with little pinpricks
of its glowing white blood
that scab up and form
the hot
hot
hot stars
to dance under

They’re Immortalized On VHS, I’m Changing Everyday - 07/07/10

Christopher told me
He told me
He told me
“Believe.”
Said:
“You’re brave
And you’re strong
And you’re smart.
Smarter than you think.”
But forever
And ever
And ever
And ever
Is even longer
Than that seems
And it’s getting harder
And harder
To believe
That I ever dreamed
Such a dream
But Christopher told me
He told me
He told me

“Believe”


My captain
He told me
He told me
He told me
“There are four lights.”
Not five
Or three
Or anything
In between
Believing is seeing
And I start believing
That I am seeing
Things not there
So maybe
Just maybe
It’s five

All I Need Is A DNR And Some Pixie Dust - 07/06/10

So if I’m dreaming
Please don’t wake me
If I’m happy
Don’t disturb me
It’s better than reality
By far
Breathing in music
And dancing on stars
And swimming through pavement
As easily
As sliding down a rainbow
But I guess
You wouldn’t know
No, not a single clue
But that’s you
And this is me
And I am I
Would you like to change it?
Good luck
Say I don’t have to be like this
And it’s true
But I also don’t have to be like me
What if this is me?
And this is me
Me, dancing on dew drops
Lighter than nothing
Those who know everything
Must know nothing
Cuz everything
Is something,
Even if it’s nothing
Cuz we're all nothing,
But to me,
You’re everything

Hopes Rise and Fall Like Fireworks - 07/04/10

Light this sky
This dark sky
This veiled window
Like a gothic bride
Ribbons and lace
Seems like it’s such
A disgrace
Not to see the light
Night sky without stars
Without a moon
Without a chance
To bring yourself back
On your own will
The fuse is lit
But in your silly mind
It’ll end so much brighter
So much louder
Such a bigger bomb
To shake the streets
And make your ears pop
And your eyes see spots
Form staring
At the colors,
The colors
Brilliantly shining
In sudden bursts
Of beautiful
Of bright
Of magnificent
Ribbons of fire and ash
So destructive
So lovely
Spinning
Flying
Bursting
Breaking
Falling
And beating
Back down on the road
With sparks
And jumps
Like heart beats
And sparks
And jumps
And all with the
Hushed awe
Of those looking on
The flames reflected
In their dark, glassy eyes
Reflected on
The veiled windows
Of the houses
The line the streets
Like toy soldiers
All in straight
Little lines

But sometimes
The fuse is consumed
Eaten alive
Without so much
As a scream
By the flames
The leap from lighter
To line
But the sparks
The lights
The pops
And bangs
Of dynamite exploding
And flying up
And crashing down
Is not but the crashing
Of all the little visions
That your silly mind
Works up
In anticipation
Because you think
That you know
That the real deal
Will no doubt
Be even better
Until the real deal
Is nothing
Nothing at all
Just dark, glassy eyes
Reflecting other eyes,
Just veiled windows
Reflecting the ones
Opposite them
In the dark
And the cold
And the sinking
Of hopes through your heart,
Feeling
   it
      all
         come
                  down

Headache Dreams - 07/04/10

Amid the

      Pop
            Pop
                  Pop

Of the rockets
That burst colorful
In the dark sky
Lighting the celebration
Of life through death
Of liberty through tyranny
Of peace through war
I dream a dream
Of a world
That I only see in my dreams
So far off
But it feels like it’s
Within my reach
And I reach out
Into the blackness
Lit by the occasional

      Pop
            Pop
                  Pop

Of dynamite
And fire
Kissing passionately
I grab a hold
Of just a corner of that world
And pull myself
With all the strength
I have,
Strength of heart;
To hold myself together;
Strength of body,
To hold myself up;
Strength of mind,
To hold the world around me
The way it should be;
Strength of soul,
To glue it all together,
Like gravity does the universe.
And I,
Myself,
For I do alright just
Myself,
Plunge into this world
This different world
This nicer world
Where the

      Pop
            Pop
                  Pop

Of patriotism
And the sound
Of my family
And the strum
Of guitars
And the laughter
Of happy people
Doesn’t make my head
Spin
And trip
And smash
Like someone lit
One of the rockets
Off inside,
Blowing my brains
Against the side of my skull.
I dream that I’m floating
On a cloud of cotton candy
In a purple sky
No sun, but still light
No clouds, but still cool
With a gentle wind
That relaxes
And refreshes
Keeping the air circulating
Keeping my breathing right
Steady
How it should be.

Sometimes,
I dream that I’m laying
On a carpeted mountain range,
No more than thirteen feet
With dew drops
That hang still in the air
And make music,
Little drops of music,
As you brush them.
I dream that I’m laying,
Looking up at billions of stars,
Much brighter than the

      Pop
            Pop
                  Pop

Of fireworks
But they don’t blind
And they don’t hurt
My hindered eyes,
They just dazzle
And glitter
In the night’s skirt
As it dances back to day.
But in that day
The stars
The stars
The stars
They still shine
Just as brilliant
And I dream this dream
This happy dream
And I feel it
For a few seconds
Until the

      Pop
            Pop
                  Pop
Of fireworks
Brings me back to reality

We Don’t Get Bigger, The World Gets Smaller - 07/04/10

Seemed like
When I was little
When I was just a kid
The whole world
Lit up
On the fourth,
Not just this little bit.
Seemed like
It was the most
Magical
Like it was the most
Beautiful
Like it was the most
Special
Thing in the world.
Like fireworks
Were dragons
And dragons were real.
Like that was cool
Not frightening.
Seemed like I couldn’t wait
To light one off.
Seemed like the world
Was nice.

And it also used to seem
Like holidays
Meant something.
Like there was a reason
That tradition was important
That we had to
Just had to
Make a leaf pile
And jump in it on
Thanksgiving.
Like we had to
Just had to
Wear green on
Saint Patrick’s.
Like a million other little things,
But that’s just it:
They're little things.

And when you miss one,
Just one little thing,
Suddenly it’s not a big deal.
And neither are any of the others.
But that’s a big deal.
The fact that it wasn’t.

Crying because
You feel nothing.

Like Flowers in the Wind - 07/01/10

Silent,
still,
restless
in the early afternoon sunlight
that shines through the blue veil
with undying persistence,
light and dark.
A wind picks up, just slightly,
and pedals brush
light pink
against each other,
gentle
at first, then
closer and strong, then
rougher as the wind grows the same.
A bit heavier in the wind,
leaves meet leaves,
meet stems;
as pedals do,
coarse meetings,
wherever they can meet.
Stronger still,
the wind
coils
stems around stems,
blowing so hard
roots are exposed.
And then the hurricane,
winds so fast,
almost too fast,
flowers ripped from the
soft, fluffy earth
of the pillows and blankets
and into the air,

floating,
floating,
floating

on an ecstatic gust
in the soft blue sunlight
of your bedroom.

I See More Dark Colors Than Bright Ones - 06/29/10

Talking to myself
Because no one else
Has any more answers
Than I
And no one else is
Anywhere near
So I guess
It’s just me
And my head
Screaming
Something fierce
And if you can hear it
You’re too close
To me
To me
It seems
That all the sunshine
And the clouds
Are all the same colors,
All the flowers
And the garbage
Are all the same shade
Of gray
Or black
Or bloody red
And those same colors
Just won’t seem
To go away

So this is all your fault
All my fault
Whatever it is
That I can’t find
This head’s
On wrong
Been this way
For too long
Why’d you go
And make this world
This way?
Of all the colors
Why so many shades of gray?

Music Made the World - 06/29/10

Darkness, darkness.
Darkness of the infant universe,
not a clue
how to walk,
how to talk,
how to grow,
freshly clumped together
by the dance of little

universe bits

colliding together with such a
big bang
that the universe came
into being within
beats
of the dancing

universe bits.

From then on,
it was music,
it was magic,
it was science,
it was tragic the way the space
swallows all sound
in the vastness,
not enough

universe bits

for the beats
to dance off of
and make their sweet music.
Until a little spark of drums,
and blow of a bright yellow horn,
the sun,
and scattered all around at their feet
were all those little

universe bits,

and they clumped together,
by the pull of that horn,
those perfect notes
that lit the sky,
and so formed a ball,
rocky like the high notes that
the comets sang
as they zipped around the horn,
but rocky as it was,
it was,
and it continued to be,
a little ball of blue like jazz
and green like the violins’ low, mellow notes,
it was
and it continued to be,
a little ball of rock,
brown as the tambourine’s
tap
tap
tap!
A little ball of clouds,
white like the melancholy moan
of the piano.
So it was
and continued to be.

Like the World in its Way - 06/27/10

There’s this raspberry bush in my backyard
like the world
in the way that its branches;
all covered in deadly thorns,
stained with blood
and berry juice;
reach out into the evening light
with a will so strong
that those branches begin
to defy gravity,
growing straight up,
wrapping those thorns
around anything in its way,
desperate for the sky,
for the stars,
for whatever they think
lays beyond,
because their roots
have dug into everything,
invasively,
and ruined
their own chance of surviving
with the other plants,
and still they reach on,
not seeing that it’s killing them,
every last one.

There’s this raspberry bush in my backyard
 like the world
in the way that the black raspberries,
the ones hardened
and toughened
and sweetened
by the sun to be the color
of the sky at midnight,
all purple and black,
stick on the ends of the branches,
basking in the evening sun light,
taking it all in.
They are
harsh,
and hard,
business like in their way,
getting what they need,
whatever they need.
They shroud the other berries,
the red raspberries,
with the mushy,
heart-like bodies,
that crush and smash
as you try to pluck them.
Those red raspberries,
who cower under the thick,
raspberry bush leaves,
so much sweeter tasting
than the purple one,
but so much
trickier
to get to,
so much more
challenging
to reach
a slender hand
through the delicate thorns,
to be stabbed and pricked,
and to stain those thorns
with the sticky
red liquid
under the thin skin
of the slender hands.

The Crow and the Cherry Blossom - 06/24/10

1

Scavenge, small black bird
Pink lips, green leaves, must be spring
Dark and bright clash, rough


2

Pink pedals drift
Ever so gently
Through the cool air
From the twisting
Tree of pink and green
It must be spring.

A large, black crow
Picks his way
Through lichen.
He is hungry,
Like the wind
That tears up this place
Searching, searching, searching
But never finding
What it seeks
Though it rips
Around ever corner
In cold pursuit.


3

Doesn’t have to mean
A thing
Can just be
What is
A representation
No metaphor,
Not this time

I Left A Lot Of Messages - 06/20/10

Rain drops.
Rain drops on
The Rose City streets
In June,
In what should be
Summer
My summer,
The summer
That was finally
Going to be
Good.

And it is,
The people
And the laughter
And the normal
Teenagers.
Parties,
Just like anyone else would.
But
It’s not quite there.

I should’ve called
Earlier
So that I could’ve talked to you.
Something’s different.
You’re not here.
And I can feel it.
Pit of my stomach
Kind of
“Feel it.”

The faded sharpie
On my arm
With a fish
After the word
“LOVE”’
And the sand
And the sea
And the little boat
Reminds me of you;
You looked at it,
And told me you loved me,
Too.
And I smile,
And cry a bit.

Because
You
Are
So
Far
Away.

I Wonder if I'll See the Doctor - 06/20/10

When you’re sick,
when you’re not feeling well,
when you’re achy
and in pain,
and sick,
you don’t hid it.
You don’t
deny it.
You tell someone.
Because then
you can get help,
you can get a hand,
and you can relax
and get better.
There’s nothing to lose,
and everything
to gain
from reaching a hand,
not matter how
frail and pale
it may be,
out and grasping
hold of another’s
to help
steady yourself
back into the
perfect health
that you should be in.

Unless,
perhaps,
your “sick”
isn’t really a sick
like a normal sick.
No fever,
no cough,
nothing like that.

And then
there is
something to lose.

I’ve got something to lose.

You see,
whenever their friends ask,
they always smile.

They smile
and they say,
“Our daughter.”
They talk about me
like they know me.
And they should,
but they don’t.
They talk about how
amazing I am,
how perfect,
how wonderful.
They tell their friends
about how smart
and sweet
I am,
and how I’m going
to do all these great things
when I get older.
They think that I’m
so smart.
That I’m so happy
and healthy.
They think that
I know what I’m doing
and where I’m going.

They think I’m hope.

After all the dark places
we’ve been,
they look at me
and see normality,
or at least sanity,
and they get hope
that after all the
trauma
and the stress
and the broken things
and the knives
that I am alright,
that I’m not broken,
that I still have a chance.

And they don’t see
all the things
that I see.
I don’t let them.
And now,
it’s too late.
You can’t turn someone’s world
upside down
just because your world’s
been turned
upside down
and backwards
a million times.
It isn’t fair
to always be
fighting so hard
that no one sees
and then
one day just

break down

into a million
little
bloody
pieces
and expect anyone
to know what to do.
How can you draw them in,
so unexpectedly?
It’s not fair.

Neither is being alone,
but that’s just to one,
and the other option
is to many,
so my pain
is more fair
than everyone else’s.
So that’s how it should be.
How it will be.