and i know i'm ripping his heart out.
but even when it's in my hands i don't know what to do with it.
too young.
i feel like and idiot,
but so do you.
if you can't laugh about it, it's not worth doing right?
oh and i'm laughing
laughing at myself.
i'll never remember what i was thinking.
this whole world and my brain stopped rotating.
but i suppose everyone goes through that.
frankly, i don't want to plan my future.
i just want to go.
not think.
apparently i am going blind folded by expectations,
i don't know what i want,
and everything seems worth it.
and i know i'm ripping my heart out.
never could think straight anyways.
goose bumps and desires.
dead stopped by a brain i created.
i'm talking myself apart.
why?
i want everything to appear.
is that asking too much?
at least i know what i'm like.
not anticipating my next move
laughing about my feelings.
and with my heart in my hands,
i know what i'm doing.
Monday, February 3, 2014
10-16-98
Cramps.
A pain inside.
A throbbing ache.
A mystery of my body.
The nausea, the stinging.
The confused fatigue.
My pulse pounding my head.
My blood crawling
I can feel the core, I can pin point,
But I can't make it stop.
It starts inside, and suddenly as if a giant eraser was coming down, I go pale.
Then the warmth to my hands and forehead.
And my skin grows needles that poke around underneath everything.
No position can escape it.
Nothing I do dulls it. POP!
Pop the pills. So at least I interpret it as a muffled piercing,
taunting, making me crazy, pain.
Then shaking, and curling, crying and sweating, vomiting and praying
I enter the next stage of PMS.
Sometimes it's easy to explain, but at times like these you can pick up the phone and begin speaking before you dial.
Your chariot is missing a wheel, and the horse has a cold.
Such is fate.
And the brain,
without a heart no words make sense.
Without the feeling you bring...
and it's raining,
on your umbrella.
A pain inside.
A throbbing ache.
A mystery of my body.
The nausea, the stinging.
The confused fatigue.
My pulse pounding my head.
My blood crawling
I can feel the core, I can pin point,
But I can't make it stop.
It starts inside, and suddenly as if a giant eraser was coming down, I go pale.
Then the warmth to my hands and forehead.
And my skin grows needles that poke around underneath everything.
No position can escape it.
Nothing I do dulls it. POP!
Pop the pills. So at least I interpret it as a muffled piercing,
taunting, making me crazy, pain.
Then shaking, and curling, crying and sweating, vomiting and praying
I enter the next stage of PMS.
Sometimes it's easy to explain, but at times like these you can pick up the phone and begin speaking before you dial.
Your chariot is missing a wheel, and the horse has a cold.
Such is fate.
And the brain,
without a heart no words make sense.
Without the feeling you bring...
and it's raining,
on your umbrella.
3-4-99
Base and Columbus
Pathways cross...
On islands of sand
A collision of hears
beating.
Each rain storm brews on the sky's brain.
Interacting with heavens of light.
Dance on watery, trickling beads.
Nothing sweeter than the first time.
Across the room he stands.
Only corners...
Pushed together from unfiltered eyes.
Middle, end, lost in the quakes.
Souls beating.
Just close all eyes.
Kiss her.
Storm the hands across the desired body of love.
Pathways cross...
In a room of lights.
Colliding just in time...
beating.
Pathways cross...
On islands of sand
A collision of hears
beating.
Each rain storm brews on the sky's brain.
Interacting with heavens of light.
Dance on watery, trickling beads.
Nothing sweeter than the first time.
Across the room he stands.
Only corners...
Pushed together from unfiltered eyes.
Middle, end, lost in the quakes.
Souls beating.
Just close all eyes.
Kiss her.
Storm the hands across the desired body of love.
Pathways cross...
In a room of lights.
Colliding just in time...
beating.
3-17-99
Why is it mocking me?
Why every time I plan out a moment in my head something happens, and its ruined?
Is it that I'm suppose d to just go with my feeling,
and not anticipate what's going to happen
That would work if I knew what I was feeling.
Only because I try to differentiate between feel, and want.
I know what I want.
I want to jump.
Just to feel like I'm falling again.
I'm too stubborn to give up.
Hopefully they don't give up for me.
Life isn't perfect,
but it can resemble perfection sometimes.
I must be looking the wrong way.
(Happy St. Patricks Day)
Why every time I plan out a moment in my head something happens, and its ruined?
Is it that I'm suppose d to just go with my feeling,
and not anticipate what's going to happen
That would work if I knew what I was feeling.
Only because I try to differentiate between feel, and want.
I know what I want.
I want to jump.
Just to feel like I'm falling again.
I'm too stubborn to give up.
Hopefully they don't give up for me.
Life isn't perfect,
but it can resemble perfection sometimes.
I must be looking the wrong way.
(Happy St. Patricks Day)
12-7-98
Populations.
It is all
then begins nothing
blue skies are engulfed by grey clouds
frothy, fast moving in like foam to the shore
buildings grow like trees
silence consumed by cars
air replaced with deadly toxic fumes, gas and vapor
more money, less liveliness
it is nothing
then begins all
life continues to form again
in shadows of bigger and better
man produced chemicals are called miracles
yet the continual breakdown of rocks, to water, to soil, to life is not a miracle,
because we understand how it works?
patience is that two seconds before someone pulls the trigger
helpfulness is leaving someone alone
when their car breaks down in the middle of nowhere
but as long as no one speaks nothing will be said
and the tree is not heard if you are not listening
the cars can come and go
the business can BOOM and then break
life goes on
nothing is all
all is up to nothing
It is all
then begins nothing
blue skies are engulfed by grey clouds
frothy, fast moving in like foam to the shore
buildings grow like trees
silence consumed by cars
air replaced with deadly toxic fumes, gas and vapor
more money, less liveliness
it is nothing
then begins all
life continues to form again
in shadows of bigger and better
man produced chemicals are called miracles
yet the continual breakdown of rocks, to water, to soil, to life is not a miracle,
because we understand how it works?
patience is that two seconds before someone pulls the trigger
helpfulness is leaving someone alone
when their car breaks down in the middle of nowhere
but as long as no one speaks nothing will be said
and the tree is not heard if you are not listening
the cars can come and go
the business can BOOM and then break
life goes on
nothing is all
all is up to nothing
10-16-98
Hook, line and sinker
It's kind of like when you catch a fish and trow it back because it's too small.
Dating is fishing.
Certain bait attracts certain fish.
Just like with men.
And the person holding the pole has no real clue what they're doing.
So when they get the right fish they are blind to the face,
Love must be like eating the best fish in the world,
because all you've had before seems like tuna.
It's kind of like when you catch a fish and trow it back because it's too small.
Dating is fishing.
Certain bait attracts certain fish.
Just like with men.
And the person holding the pole has no real clue what they're doing.
So when they get the right fish they are blind to the face,
Love must be like eating the best fish in the world,
because all you've had before seems like tuna.
11-7-95
I bet you never knew that when I want to feel you all I do is press my hand to the window and hope you're doing the same.
I sit awake at night and tell you everything.
I know youre' not there, but I hope you are hearing me.
Anyways, I look into the darkness forever to see if my heart has flown away.
Still it says.
I hope you'll take it
I never try to make you know how I feel.
I just hope you can somehow understand.
If it never happens I'll be sad.
All these things...
And when upon this new stare,
I can tell I want these things I feel more than anything.
I don't want to die without,
but neither live without.
What can I do but hope you'll give me what I need.
I sit awake at night and tell you everything.
I know youre' not there, but I hope you are hearing me.
Anyways, I look into the darkness forever to see if my heart has flown away.
Still it says.
I hope you'll take it
I never try to make you know how I feel.
I just hope you can somehow understand.
If it never happens I'll be sad.
All these things...
And when upon this new stare,
I can tell I want these things I feel more than anything.
I don't want to die without,
but neither live without.
What can I do but hope you'll give me what I need.
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