Oh, what a beautiful view...

Something's surfacing;
Whispers underneath the tips of myself
And I can feel the vibration inside.

...Remind me why I ever felt so numb..

On clearer nights with a steady breeze

The fans rotation would envelope me

Steal me from existence



Well its 3am and Im still here

Replays and echoes now fill my ear

Im far too murky for disappearance

As if Im filling up with clouds instead





I shouldnt have to rain for you

Pour myself until I am transparent

This isnt a pitcher of something to drink

And thinking about it is just as sour

I just want sleep

And dream there is nothing to think about

But the steady breeze of a fan.

Fences treading through barbed wire tangles
And fields of electricity that yield in their spark
For an audience of one
Are sparking in me a curious train of thought
No wire nor fencing impede.

I could search forever inside and out
And find not a reason to head back.

I’m tasting the moonlight and freeing the fields
From their barriers sooner than later
When legs are made equally capable
Of hopping a fence as finding a gate.

I’m listening to heart beats in darkness
Shadows cast from an unseen light
That connect us to the remaining room
Swallowing our toes at the end of the bed
Whilst I’m also finding this rather tempting
Do you hear the hum of electricity?
And the absence of nothing
As we, inaudibly, give each other our words
In our quiet terms
Where what we think
Rests upon our lips for the finding
On what could only be a Saturday night
Endless in its vibration
With the electric current
We share.

You were never one for give and take
Nor I one for symmetry in friendship
When helping you through troubled times
Meant living your life too.

Well I suppose that’s partially my fault
For feeding you the answers
But when you have no self left
Does fear not grow within?

Or does all growing cease instead
In which case, are you not missing the leaves
That sprout from branches?
Or the green you once portrayed?

The patternless fringe of brown that lines
you now is tearing holes through your surface
that lead to nothing in their depth

I hope you can understand it when
I leave you to your own mistakes
And teach you how to teach yourself.

Taking a dive into the deep end of things
You’ve mentioned your inability to swim
Well I’m not a lifeguard with a whistle
But a friend with a few words

And somehow they’ve become attached
To my tongue from out my body

You pull yourself in by them
And shake me from my balance
How blinding the sun seems on these days
To think I thought you were reaching for the surface
When your intent was to pull me in

I could easily close my mouth
Let you test out your lungs in water
It certainly would keep me from getting my toes wet
But you know I'm not a fan of fish

I’m just a friend with a few words.

A quartet is singing in the background

Where they seem to be singing different songs

Thrown off by the pseudo tenor and the echoing

Of died down laughter…while the images are

Much less than of joy…the present isn't such a present

When the past is what you look forward to with friends

Well turn around and you'll see two people who

Get farther when talking to walls

Aiming for the stars but pointing at ceilings

Backwards roller coasters and replays

Go on throughout the nights

While I try to raise my children

And end up raising my hand

Well that is suitable because I've got questions

And a mind full of a landscape farther-reaching than most

And a lot goes on in it's depth

And there is always something else to add.

And…

Sometimes it feels like people's eyes and ears are only partially opened,
whereas you are wide awake.
Please do not squint or attempt any means of the ordinary,
for you are unmistakable.

Fixing the unfixable "Unbreakable Comb" that broke without a gasp of surprise
I’m finding my fingers covered in Elmer’s glue and a regretful look in my eyes,
But I am not regretting that it broke, or that I carelessly let the wind tangle my hair
But that I tried too hard to pretend I wasn’t enjoying the lingering fresh air
And a walk outside in the middle of the night as you sat at home and cried.

Without you next to me, I was able to walk at my own pace
And let the breeze do with me what it can’t do to those locked inside.

I will not waver in my goodbyes, and I dare you to be even remotely surprised.

Dive into me and through my veins you will catch your breath
I’m ever-winding, and I’ve grown accustomed to this dizzying effect
Of a loss of oxygen you leave.
As the victim I could just be biased…
But is this leeching upon me something to break into the time
Spent cutting into your own flesh?
Am I where the blame should be thrown?
How can a mind be narrow, when it’s conscious to what a narrow mind entails?
How many licks to the center of a tootsie pop?
The world may never know…
But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t bother with the attempt.

Arms thrown into chains and the drip of insanity is clinging to yourself
As I lose the feeling in my hands from the motionless you’ve given
I’m paused in a position where I cannot reach the door
I’m falling towards the ground…but I’m not hitting any floors
Is this what you’ve had planned for us in chaotic excuses wound inside?
Is this the way things go when you are behind the wheel?
In honking horns and blurry lights, you’re losing yourself
Thinking too deeply that you might be right somewhere…
Stop trying to prove yourself in fights and become the better man
Whose got too much dignity to wrestle things out in the mud.

Tearing through the vines that sway towards you
Grasping it at times but the fall is inevitable
Just look at where you’re finding yourself
In the forest of things that slit the coarsest wrists
It’s funny to hear about, I’m sorry to admit
But this is one place I will not plant myself
Beside you is not always my bias
Nor is it intact like it once was…
Yes, the past tense can be harsh
But worry more about what is ahead of you
And please, Tarzan, watch out for that tree
For I’d hate to see what you could do to it.

It's best with one eye closed
and swimming deep into what couldn't be reality
And one eye open to assure you that
it is.

...sometimes it's not important where the finger is pointing...because fingerless or not...you're still crying and are going to hurt...so what's the point?

It's cold outside
though we cannot stop opening these windows
because inside the night is aflame
and you are drawing designs for us
on my temporary canvas
with your fingertips
and for once, the cold is bearable
and worth the chills
that I keep blaming on the draft
but you know better.

Free from gravity are the colors
Holding themselves in air, angles and arrows
Dividing the black and white shapes
I've let collect on the surface
(that I’ve let slip into the folds and cracks of my surface)
Have I really been breathing this in?

I face me, and I can’t see where I’ve laced the
Patterns with those that I’m starting to create
I’ve tamed me, and though I know that it can’t be
I’ve turned into the classic cartoons that I hate

Can I ask, please, where my third dimension has gone?
Can I beg of these erasers to turn themselves on…
Black/white and paper-thin are never my trademark
I’m a book for the cover, not the other way around.

"...and could it be that it had been there all along?"
-Brandon Boyd

...It's unusual how we can take the most vaguest of sentences and take them in...make them, mold them into our own specific worlds...how the most generic of sentences can be so relevant to such specific problems or feelings...It's very powerful that such a sentence can touch so many topics, and yet touch only yours so surely.

"Drag your pretty head around
Swearin' you're gonna drown
With a beautiful sigh
And a river of lies

Why don't you call me, I could save you
Together we'll find a God we can pray to
That'll take you by the hand

I hate to see a friend of mine
Laughing out loud
When she's crying inside
But you've got your pride."

Bark is now been seen by trees as inefficiency

Now wrapping themselves in barbed wire blankets

Against Unnature and it’s dominating plasticity

The matter in which will send the earth to end

(and not on it’s highest note if I may be so bold to add)

As stop signs are becoming less redundant.

 

They beg you not protest this,

Just infest this deep into yourselves

and everything around you with Unnature,

and let it seep into your pores

Deep into the backdoors of our minds

and oceans overflow with this as though

we have no choice but to embrace it’s bitter taste

So place it everywhere until the sun shines dull

And we will make good with what our batteries can hold.

No need for anything else…

No time for repairing the else…

Because Unnatural is easy is best these days.

So tie yourself to the barbed wire trees

In hopes they’ll keep from tottering

and losing their precious ground.

Let’s wander from their simple ways, where ignorance is bliss.

For bliss is not just ignorance;

there are other ways to smile in this dark that we’ve created.

 

 

Synesthesia When You Sigh

How anonymous my words must seem, and how different wrote than when I speak
For tonight it seems as though I rhyme with lightning bugs inside my eyes
And painting scribbles instead of lines, for even segments have seen more time
Than the broadest waves that live inside; synesthesia when I hear you sigh
But I’m an open book for you, and read too deep, for I’m writing new
Patternize my electric soul, so you can trust in what I hope to hold…
I’m hoping that it’s you.

When Your Feet Cannot be Found

Green grass grows from the echoing toes of what they used to embrace
From sand and silt to the linoleum hell that chills you when you walk
And encased within your face are excuses on why you’ve given up
Your sandals in your closet screaming profanities through the dust
That know just how it is when you’ve finally given up…
Yes, I suppose you’ll be fine with love that’s really lust…
And the voices inside will say it’s alright, patting your back as
You’ve given up before.