'Would you like a beer?'

It's nice to know you're decently atractive without make-up, smelling like household cleaner (with dry pruney hands no less), and when you're wearing plaid Grumpybear pants.

It doesn't overblow my ego, it just... feels nice to know someone thinks you look good.

Hail

I crossed the street. On the other end a pidgeon floundered beside the curb, too injured to pull itself out of the way. Cars avoided it. A cluster of people were nearby, staring in a slack-jawed stupor. Many wore a mournful look.

I crossed the street. I had a rapid and incredible impulse to bring my foot high up and slam it down on the pidgeon's head. I almost did. Instead, I walked straight past. I barely looked at the bird everyone was so preoccupied with and I pushed the button on the post to cross the street again...

You lack a pulse

I'm in hiatus.
So much for believing.

Summer Wind by Frank Sinatra

Frank Sinatra heals many of life's woes.

The summer wind, came blowin' in - from across the sea
It lingered there, to touch your hair - and walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song - and then we strolled that golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind

Like painted kites, those days and nights - they went flyin' by
The world was new, beneath a blue - umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man - one day it called to you
I lost you, I lost you to the summer wind

The autumn wind, and the winter winds - they have come and gone
And still the days, those lonely days - they go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies - through nights that never end
My fickle friend, the summer wind

I'm drunk

this isn't poetic at all but I'm posting it anyway.

DDo you know what it's like to be completely alone but full of alcohol without someone to care for you? Do you know what it's like to feel the wind with a break of a window but feel the loneliness swell inside of you? I'm not tired at all but all the couples are gone and I'm left alon. Oh god how the rain pours onto the roof I can feel it without feeling it everyone's gone and I'm all alohe oh god. I wish I could enjoy this but no. Goodbye. Goodnight. Hopefilly I'll see you someday. Not tomorrow, for sure, but... will we be together when we say g'day?

I wish I felt the scissors do you know how sobr I feel when I'm completely plastered? It hurts. Someday, somehow, everything will be okay. But not now, someday... somehow... you know we'll be fine even if we aren't right now.

Lacking the love to love

In a lot of ways, I dislike sexuality. It can drive decent people to abuse others. What is meant to be an expression of love may contort into a struggle for power and satisfaction that can mentally and physically scar someone deeply. That kind of shit doesn't just go away. Time doesn't heal that kind of pain.

Imagine what it would be like to love someone very much but be unable to make love with them sincerely and enjoy the spiritual and physical satisfaction that is meant to be the result of such a connection. Think about the regurgitated pain that would occur in such a situation: how it wouldn't just hurt you but your partner as well. All of the inhibitions of the previous abuse would be revived by an action which is meant to reinforce your affection for this other person. Sucks to consider, doesn't it? Does it make you uncomfortable?

I feel yester night's fuck for days to come.
Days to come, days to come, days to come.
I feel yestermorn's fuck later nights,
Sore nights, lonely nights, alone nights.
I interrogate my feelings beyond the pain.
I condemn myself for the dirt I can't shake.

I'm mentally retarded to take this so seriously.
To think so deeply, to fuck sincerely.
I haven't sinned so much to God than
To myself, bitterly, coherently, sincerely.
Fuck the world; I've fucked myself up.
Fuck the world; I'm no one to anyone.

A lazy day in the snowed-in-sunshine
I feel the pain.
A cool afternoon with a blue moon
I curse the ache.
A lonely night I'm coiled alone in bed
I cry myself to sleep.

Constantly,
Jarringly, forlornly...
The ache obscures everything.

Self Destruction

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Bleu Lagoon

I'm so tired of these wrinkled sheets, pressing patterns onto my cheeks. I'm so cold despite these blankets, they got me: ensnared me and completely impaired me. I'm sweating but I'm shaking, I'm calling and I'm waiting but even my echo is absorbed by the paper covering my walls. You're written there, somewhere, I should stop trying but I can't don't you know what its like to be in love with somebody? I can't stop caring and now my heart is breaking (again and again and again).

I'm so tired of these wrinkled sheets, pressing lonely patterns across my desolate cheeks. Tuesday, Thursday, Friday... Wednesday hid behind a deceitful star. A sighing constellation told me everything would be all right. The stars can laugh on a whim; did you know they have also convinced me with their lies? I'm sick of being tired, but the moon said I'd be all right. His voice held more truth: it wavered with apprehension. Someday soon it'll all come together. The stars, you and I, we'll reunite (everybody lies sometimes).

I can't stand being left behind.

Two hundred and sixty seven

One, two, three, four… show me your teeth; bear a wild grin with pride. I shan't deny your paltry purpose, a poultry finely picked for a fine fall fiesta. I wish we wore dress-clothes; you know the dark one with a frock and pleated pants? I saw your face glow. I picked sunshine today. It will leave an imprint on the scrapbook of my life in the form of a maple leaf. I'll see it forever in my mind, the way the clouds parted when you arrived and gave me a clean slate... a deliciously barren canvas full of potential. Did you know my maple leaf came from the reflection of fractured sunlight upon your iridescent iris? It's in my scrapbook. My scrapbook beats to a rhythm.

Buhthump buhthump ssshh buhthump.

I am weakened

'Don't let them take me away,' his body language cried out to me.

'There's nothing I can do,' my eyes quietly responded. I tried to reassure him with my touch, and he leaned into it powerfully. But there was still fear and his eyes emplored me while he continued to exclaim my treachery with his forlorn call.

'I thought you loved me! Don't let them take me awaay.' They carried you out and closed the door behind them. I could hear you cry behind the door before the car drove off and I felt for you. There's nothing I could do. I knew you couldn't understand what was best for you and I hated making that choice alone. Your call will reverberate in my mind until I see you safe again. I will always love you, but sometimes we have to do things that we don't want to for those whom we care about.

May I procure your love in return?

I believed myself apathetic, until I walked home from work and struggled not to cry because of how utterly beautiful the clouds were to me. While walking across the street, my eyes felt the road like fingers. It was warm and the stones were smooth from the many vehicles running over them with the consistency of fresh water in a stream. I wanted to cry. Yesterday everything became too beautiful to understand. My entire life I've stood in watery-eyed awe at the overwhelming beauty of the world. Ordinarily, people only see everything this way when they're in love. I became aware in those few minutes that this was how I'd felt all along: I had always loved the world; pavement, clouds, people and exhaust-pouring cars... everything has an inebriating quality that gives my life purpose.

If only you knew just how important you are in that world of mine; that world I will always love...

I knew your mere presence would silence all the claustrophic noise stifling my mind.

Freshly rendered meat

No more amour...
no more, Amour.

This weekend

A spectacular gongshow worth remembrance for all time.

Holy shit.

I'm leaving in three months.

Would you attend my funeral?

I wish I didn't have time to listen and reflect on the static in my head. Raspberries drowned the noise; I couldn't stop laughing. When I heard myself, I felt reproachful. The laughter was false, but it spilled out of me anyway. I walked and walked and walked. I wanted the soles of my feet to wear off. I wanted the soul of my body to wear thin and waste away. I wanted all morality to collapse inside of me, so that I could build new foundations that would bring me to a tragic end that very night. I walked and I walked and I walked. I wanted to walk until I didn't recognize where I was, but I wanted to hear the boisterous voices of my companions within a block's radius. I had to have them near me... so he wouldn't come. I didn't want to get raped, but I wanted to die.

I imagined a car sidling up to me, the driver demanding my company in the vehicle. I imagined a gun in his hand and determination in his stare. Then I imagined how I'd walk to the driver's side, make him roll down his window, then how I'd direct his gun to the left of my chest. 'Pull the trigger,' I'd say, with even more resolve in my glare. Sometimes, in this mental concoction, he'd release a bullet. I'd either die or get saved. If the latter, no one would know the real story except me. No one would know how I had put my life before abduction and molestation. But they also wouldn't know the reasons why I'd rather choose death over losing that control. My qualms, my secrets... the ones that make my heart, mind, and body scream...

Bitter Memoir

A circumference of garbage is strewn about my laggard body. Between the moments of slight and dyslexic words creeping past my inebriated lips, I see the reason I'm so torn. A blurred silhouette hangs deliriously in my wavering sight. I'm ashamed, the voice confirms how apparent the indignity is written across my disconcerted face: 'You're fucking wasted.'

'Plaaastr'd,' I try to correct the voice. Do I even know who it is? Of course I do, but I pretend not to. I despise the acrid taste in my mouth, which likely poured through my slightly parted lips and shining nostrils. My mistakes are written across the floor, upon my face, and are deeply imbedded within my tainted spirit. I hate the fact the figure lingers, but the instant it turns to leave I'm inflicted with an unbearable weight in my chest. I don't cry out for him to stay, my pride is too great. I just watch him go. We're better off alone, but oh God... how I need you. It took me so long that night to figure out you were just an illusion. No one could conceive of how alone I felt once I realized the truth. Now I can't shake the feeling and the sharp reality of it all. You couldn't possibly have left... because you weren't here to begin with.

'Hello goodbye' in one short breath

Hello.
We are the fleeting memories you remember with regret and nostalgia;
we're short and sweet, but we're not worth your ever-pressing time.
Sigh for us once, then say goodbye.

Forlorn Sensibility

Tired, frustrated, anxious,
no good will come of this.

Someone bold wrench me out of the knots in my subconscious.
My conscience isn't conscious anymore. Laugh at the sublime.
The Golden label's gone. The product isn't the same;
the product isn't the product without the identifiable label.
I'm not the same anymore: someone ripped my label off.
How do you replenish what's been lost? How do you
redeem yourself, for all the rot that you've caused?

Tired, frustrated, anxious...
No matter where you take me,
I can't run away from this --
no good will come of it.