tired eyes sad eyes and burning that causes me to rub them out.

UNCONSCIENCE / UNBOLD / subconscious / untold

do not let go of my hand, for i am
swept away without you, and i am
always in myself, and i am
alive for you, and i am
dying slow, and i am
in love.

BOUNDING FROM TABLE TO CHAIR TO COUNTER TO STAIRS ON TO MY BACK AND ROLLING OUT THE BACK DOOR OF THIS HOME

CLAIM ME CLAIM ME CLAIM ME I AM HERE

this internet is a funny thing that seemingly keeps us connected. when in truth i would need your cheek beside mine for you to hear me and understand what i am trying to do. i would need to hold you and remember you, have you remember me. and that would not be fake like this. that would not be difficult.

SHELFLIFE / TOO LONG / health life / a quiet song

your eyes betray you and say the words you thought you had destroyed. you are shaking.

5

there was always an epic beat in my head. i could hear it fall from the trees, off the hills, riding the air fearlessly. i could feel it in my legs, my knees and thighs discovering rhythm... and in my chest. always in my chest. a thumping that calls you out and builds you up. once it gets rolling it doesn't stop. it attaches itself to your very being. all i would feel was my heart destroying its frame, and the next pounding stride towards nowhere, and i would keep on rolling because i didn't have any choice. i had to run further.

:

- how bout we start over?
- how?
- i dunno. we'll just start over. begin again.
- okay...umm.
- let me.
- okay.
- hi... i'm tommy. what's your name?
- kim.
- ... what are you doing out here?
- waiting for it to snow.
- you think it's gonna snow?
- oh, most definitely. look at the sky.
- you might be right. where are you from?
- hamilton.
- cool... have you ever thought about killing yourself?
- ... tom.
- what?
- is that relevant?
- very.
- you know the answer already.
- no i don't. we just met.
- alright. the answer is yes.
- and...
- ummm, yes i've done that, but i don't anymore. it was a long time ago.
- oh, that's good. i'm glad.
- me too.
- well, it's nice to meet you then.
- i don't deserve a second chance, tom.
- everyone deserves a second chance. the only problem is you're up to four or five.
- yeah.

--------------

- we're going to hell in a handbasket.
- what's a handbasket?
- not sure, but it's cozy, and warm... and we like it in there.
- really? even if we're going to hell?
- maybe it's more like a passenger jet.
- what is?
- we're going to hell in a huge airplane. super fast.
- i don't like flying.
- i know you don't. but this flight isn't optional. we're all going.
- can i sit with you?

january and rainy days and floods

i stand in the rain.
wash me away- disassemble me.
like sand castles in the waves,
slowly deteriorating,
and the footprints that head off down the beach.
rain, eat me for breakfast,
and see how i breathe.

------

open up your door and welcome in the flood.
because no one will believe you.
none will understand.

4

I am a cloud hanging effortlessly, or so it seems, in an unopened sky. The perfect observer, an innocent bystander. Meaningless migration from one horizon to the next. And now I am raining. Thick, heavy drops that become oceans on the earth. Kids splash in me, lovers swim in me. They remove their clothes and see each other with wide eyes, exposing themselves. Suddenly I am a pelican, rising and diving into salty pools to get fish. I have no fish in my mouth, though. Pelicans don’t have mouths. But I have a mouth… because I am a person. A human being. Just a regular boy. I don’t know what I was thinking just then. I wasn’t thinking, because that’s what you do when you’re trying to fall asleep, you stop thinking. And then strange things happen because there is no such thing as not thinking. You can’t turn yourself off, just hope for sleep to get the better of you when you let your guard down. But sleep won’t take me tonight. And that’s all I want, for this day to be over so I can wake up tomorrow and try again. And the longer I lie awake the more frustrated I become. Maybe I am the sea after all.

3

The buildings enfold our park. All alike in height and shape, all brown. The diamond is familiar to us, and friendly. It is our territory to defend, gravel scattered with sunflower seed shells. Our hands clutch the chain link fences with excitement. There is a coming and going of spectators. Some I know, they might call my name and wave from on top of their hill. And others I don’t recognize. They call other names.
It is hot. The air becomes still on summer days in the city, afraid to move. It makes us afraid to move, humidity drenching our foreheads, concrete absorbing the heat and firing it up towards us. There is nowhere to hide. We silly baseball players, dressed in layers, pants to prevent disfiguration to the knees, claustrophobic in the sun’s rays. I might let go of the fence for a moment, place some ice under my hat, and return to the constant shouting of my team. But I won’t look at the sun. I won’t acknowledge it, for fear of going blind. We just anticipate the next pitch, ignoring the ongoing discomfort of our summer.

coward

so that when we are surrounded on all sides by darkness
and wrapped up in questions like,
"why?" and "how do we fix this?"
you will still have a love deep within you that cannot be tamed.
although it may be difficult to locate.
and i will say something like,
"we are out of practice." or "i'm not in love with our world."
"not with myself, not with most people that i encounter,
but a few that pierce me, like you,
with a strange and everlasting quality.
and that will always remain."
so that our faces will burn in fever
when that inevitable darkness finds us.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

i want to wear my heartbreak with pride.
you can't take my loveless from me.
-------you can't take my late nights.
--------------so let me have them.
just take a sip of my hot chocolate,
(that was a giant sip)
and let me be with my meaningless dreams.
----------creative self-destruction?
-----nah, just creative.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,

broom. zoom. now my kitchen floor is clean.
peanuts with chocolate milk.
changing. up-staging...arranging ourselves.
re-arrange the couches
and suddenly that wall talks.
it's never spoken before, and man how excited it is.
so i fell asleep in a different living room
and dreamed of a boy and a window
that looked out onto nothing.
and i woke up to find peanuts all over my clothes.
damn. not again.
get serious for a second.

,,,,,,,,,

iamcomingthroughthefog
andiseeyourunningaway
coward
stayandfacemestayanddiscuss
themanytimesthatyouhaverun
andthemanytimesthatareyettocome
coward