because it's true.

you got angry.
said you wish you could
thrown my phone against a wall.
so go ahead. do it.
i didn't pay for it.
but really i say:::
there's no one for me to
talk to here.
you said, i'm here.
and i looked at you
then replied:::
you're just standing there.
you aren't talking to me.
so you walked away.
i didn't feel bad
because
it's
true.

remain motionless.

remain motionless.
shut your eyes
and you can hear.
hear the noises that
aren't
really
there.
some static.
some music.
some voices in
the
distance.
move, and alertness will
be restored-----------
it's gone.
you have to
settle back into that
drowsy state of delirium.
now lay down.
face the wall that you
cannot see through the
veil of your eyelids,
and go to sleep.

a pleasant french brunch.

today i finally learned the difference between
love and in love.
so now i'm okay with her saying she
loves me. because i realized that
i am no longer in(the course of falling in)love
with her. ((if i ever was))

shimmery mess.

cold air hovers at my
calves. the world is
turning into a shimmery
mess, the ground is
no longer solid, stagnant.
it moves, curls, curves,
turns, breaks and
swells with every new drop.
drop.........drop....
drop it::: all those fantasies.
shhhhhh, let the sounds
take it away, take them away.
two beats clash and
chords dissonate, resonate.
beat&beat by beat---
drumming strumming
dripping slipping
it doesn't fit, it shouldn't fit
shouldn't should not.
but. it. does.
sliding into each other:::
music&rain, collaborating
to keep me sane.

11.22.09.

the walls are green.
the ceiling has sunshines on it.
there is a window to my right.
posters&mirror in front of me.
my arms are around a teddy bear...
i am in my room.
not a poorly wallpapered,
rocky ceiling hotel room.
i wish...more than life,
more that anything...
that i could go back.

10.4.09.

sunlight slices in
a slight curve
onto my bed; feet;
arms; fingers and
that's it.
the rest are small
shadows hiding
what lies beyond.

like all other walls, facades are easily broken down if you have the right tools...

Heres they way I see it--

There is a social scene made up of multiple multitudes

Of charming, cunning, carefully crafted individuals

Their façades are unprecedented and so very well presented

You'd almost never know they were faking it

slip-ups shift into clever cover-ups

that stay down for days

but scandals and secrets are always riding on the tips of their lips

law of conservation

the smell of smoke is embedded in my fingerprints,

each grove, swirl and whorl contains a fragment of fire.

i tried to burn so much more than twigs and paper.

i hoped to rid myself of the regrets, fears, and

words i do not have the courage to say

by dousing every pen soaked sheet with a

dose of fire, gently placing the page on an ember.

first heat, then brown seeps across the white

and flames create glowering ashes.

but i do not feel resolved.

because matter cannot be created

or destroyed.

i worry.

i am in my adventure outfit.
i feel cool because there are no
labels (to be seen.)
i am not hiding behind my hat
today. no. not today.
i wander through bookshelves.
i see groups of people, friends.
studying. not reading.
i see a couple in the stairwell.
he's up against the wall,
she doesn't have her shoes on.
when i walk up they shift.
so i can get by.
and i worry.
i worry that i will never
have someone to read with
up against the wall in
barnes and noble, and that
i will always be sitting alone
in a corner.