Archive for March, 2010

Fucked up

March 27, 2010

If I could prepare a list
of all the shit
that tore me up
it would never end.
Inconsiderate incontinence
Stray bullets and nightmares
Dangling dead bodies
And decapitated corpses
Limp lifeless
Graffiti like hieroglyphics
Secrets of where Dad works
Fighting and screaming
Neither really loving
Lines on the sidewalk becoming state lines
Rehearsing the perfect words
So that you will love me
Love me?
Child adult
Abuse and abuse and neglect
Followed by actions I regret
Bottles and boys
Experimentation
All the while no emotion.

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anti

March 25, 2010

inhaling hope
exhaling regret
picking up the pieces
dropped on the ground
nothing means enough
everything is too much

All at once

March 25, 2010

Pouring bottle into bottle
Without regulation
Spilling everywhere and evaporating
Already gone
Before the towel
So nothing is left.

Or maybe it is that
I saw what the liquid really was
Intake with all senses
And found it unfavorable.

unmatching symptoms

March 16, 2010

Bad days always start with waking up.

I shouldn’t have woken up. Flashing lights aren’t as fun as they sound in rap songs and I am not epileptic, but I felt seizures.

20 steps to me: an instruction manual

March 11, 2010

shirts as dresses
creating inquisitive stares
begging for city skylines
lines read and reread
memorized to place
above average
average is too bland
add flavor on top
of flavor and then more
more brew please
meaning coffee
blonde and sweet, not me
me is i and mead was right
rarely conflicting
because i do what i please
please states power
so take your power
and use it wisely
wise as i’ll be
i will save those countries
that have nothing
nothing but the love of jesus
save me lord
pulled from wreckage
i wrecked this
with one drop
and it was all over
overages and apologies
but nothing is worth that much to me
not even you
you think i’m solid
ice cold
you bought into the act
acting like i am a wall
barrier between us
baring photos of happiness
a happy mess
of love and scars and
stress that erases memory
mammary glands beg for hands
to teach you how to feel
so when you marry
mary the sacred mother
not my mother, but father
raised on irish values
value of each breath
hasn’t been calculated yet
drawn into lungs
lungs that heave-ho
bringing diversity
and sensitivity to dark
dark skin like a blanket
enveloping my heart
crossing oceans in backseats
seating charts
crossing ts and hearts
it began here
here i am to stand alone
intended to be solo
accept fate and move on
onto my feet
and out the door
i can’t sit still anymore

Autotune

March 11, 2010

Quick shallow breaths
In. Out. In. Outout.
Making mistakes,
Off pitch and out of key
The key to fix it
No talent, no knowledge
No morals and values
But what I put out is value

oopsy

March 10, 2010

I still want you
I did it.

Raindrops

March 9, 2010

Romanticism
Rain falling so fast
That imagination is reality
Storms and playgrounds
Begging for love
To be born out of innocence
Monkey bars and astroturf mountains
Not that I loved either,
Just that they felt perfect.

History Lessons

March 6, 2010

I was founded on equality and justice
I am built by patriots
Fighting the mother to break free
Winning the battle that wins the war
But still battling within
Begging for equality or economy
And at what cost?
Spent and sold
Expanding my horizons
Buying grass, or land, to grow on
Running cattle and campfires
Into both oceans
Going worldwide
Not intentionally, but for friends
Time well spent
Until a crash leaves my pockets empty
Tent cities and brown bags
Full of tomorrows, and I don’t care
Drowning in myself
Shaken awake by a bad dream
Finding I wasn’t dreaming
Teaching others how to be free
Standing tall at the top
Everyone wants to be on top,
So I had an unhealthy relationship
Comprised of tumbles and harsh words
Potential for abuse
When it was over I left in a rush
Leaving others behind
Fighting for resources
Stifling hate
Until it sneaks up on me
And puts a bullet through me
Blood pouring from my shoulder
Wounded, but breathing
Retaliation is the answer

Apology

March 3, 2010

Underground, like I dug it up
Dreaming about freshness
And retribution through deep breaths
Proof of gray