gentle waves

redemption comes sweetly...

grow

life grows out of a crack between the tiles
the green is confounding
one day it will overrun us all
leaving ruins like old
keeping things as they should be
green survives the fall...

fingers

sometimes when i wear you on my finger, your head is upside down.
i dont always speak in riddles.
i hate speech.

o the torturous we.
inescapable
my minds vocabulary is trapped in.
when asked questions it pops up. or just you.
but never me.
is this how its supposed to be.

and to the others
i think of you always
i wear you like a hood
and you don't always protect me
from all that you should
why did our paths ever cross
will you ever hold me again
even if it is just for a moment in your eye.
i am lost with this i.

who am i without you.
why is there no more.
will you forget?
or do you think about the rainy days when we met

don't let me disappear... again.

to the disinegrating:

i want to be like you.

fade.

nothing makes sense
but its all in its right place.

Munich

twist

twist your arm around to the portion of my brain

where music was the sedative

and sedative turns sharply towards projection

identity

it is so quiet now

puddles and the sound of breath

when did the weather change?

when did i ...

longing for sedatives nevermore

the road is narrow, true...

but must it be straight?

mine twists and turns, inclines and falls

gnarled tree branches...

but what happens when it stops?

more silence

rain on me

untitled

blackcurrant tea
and writer's block
a window lets the light in
the trees outside shape it
half forgotten...

Shape and Change Shape.

Your scab is in the shape of Africa.

Mine is ever changing in the light

shadows recast

seen for a moment

forgotten in bright

impressions never forgotten

artists marks on clay

my surface

wallpaper and flocking

distant, different

you could not have known all that i would carry from you

shapes and forms

thoughts and blushes

serious yet mistaken

i wanted your touch like from the movies

skin on skin

close

did i exist before you moved me?

move.

submit...

"The natural must submit to the spiritual..."- Chambers

good thing-record
lampshades and needlework
orange and reflection
thoughts aren't so toxic when bled onto blankness

you alone are worthy
be all my worth.

Again.

are you sad today also?
the day is late yet it looks undone
gray gray fading.
i'm pressed.
who would frame a weed?
eyes still swollen
anger. alternates. apathy.
blotchy cheeks- release to numbness.
with every song that falls upon my ears...
dissodence and failure
each brushstroke observed
each word, read and bound
each bite, taken and tasted
i am surrounded by all that i cannot do
cannot have
cannot be
beauty is fleeting
there is no place for me here.
is this familiar to you?

my world is composed of cannot