Memorized by innocence

Peeking through narrow holes and edgy corners, her eyes are peeled on me with an innocent smile stretched horizontally across her pale freckled face. In one hand she holds a wooden bar, tipped with a fur horse head. In the other, she anxiously paces her fingers across the worn leather wrapped around her new friends head, along with an orange six dollar price tag. My eyes were so heavy, but i was easily focused on her.  She wore a white and grey stripped sweater with light colored Levi's, which came awkwardly high above her ankles.  Her feet were tucked into dirty white vans with grey and pink plaid patterns.  I sit, tiredly, on a brown futon that does not belong to me and after a few passing minutes of playing a game of hide and seek, but with our eyes, she strolls over and sits down next to me. Brothers and gifts and holidays and cousins; the sorts of things she tells me about. Her waved and pressed red hair securely hangs down the edges of her face and along the back of her small head. Blue eyes and freckles consume her pale face. Smiles and laughter are exchanged for a few pleasurable minutes. At that age, i too would be running through ails chasing brothers. I observe as she has a tickle attack with her three year old brother, after he reveals himself sprinting towards her. Another, age of twelve, downloads her favorite song on his new cell phone. Raggedy hair and stained clothes, yet all beautifully characterized. I'm appreciating the presence of this small soul. Her voice rings in my delicate ears as i watch her restless legs spin while sitting. She rocks herself; i wonder if i would feel more secure if i were to rock myself. "Monica!" Her name was called. I watch as she sits up, curls her arms, and tucks her small head in for a hug. Surprised, i reach downwards and hug her back and watched as she galloped away. "Bye Monica!" I'm not used to hugging strangers sober...

I used to be six and in 1st grade, too.

Typical

I miss my sister.

Shameee on me.

I hate him, so please don't die tomorrow.

Ringing loops

It's funny what distance and time can do. Even 4,000 miles away i got sick of you and fell for her, although i didn't even recognize it yet. I guess it must of been your conniving actions that made my feelings spin.

"She'll wrap her sheets 'round us,

forget the sun

She'll wrap her sheets 'round us,

She leads this one"

My face is tense and my knees are bent. My bones still need to breath, but i can't make the stretch. Even my toes are numbing cold, my fingers the same. The melody vibrates in the background and my mind still rings it's loop. A turning lock can change a lot, although it really all stays the same. I always wish i could actually sing. A shinning screen does a well job in distraction, but who am i fooling? Everyone has their reasons. I am not everyone, but somebody refers to me as just that; as i do to you. I probably use the word, "but" too often, but it's relevant and it seems to do a fine job with connecting pieces of mind. I know no other way to tell you, my dreams are so haunting and I've been told i breathe too heavy. There is just so much to take in, my lungs don't have the capacity to cradle it all comfortably. It's a squeeze in these blue nailed fingers and all conciseness slips away from me. Put me to sleep and I'll say more in my dreams. My rolling eye lids tell stories; not the campfire kind. "Nonexistent races," but what are we running for? It's a thrill to be chased and I've always had this fantasy of running through woods and spinning through trees. I want a hard reason to run for; I've had one, but i froze in fear. I promise it'll be different this time around. It's been two years since it started; it seems like longer since I've changed. Cramped in my frozen fear, but now I'm dying for a reason, only because it'll look better when I'm gone. I never needed justification, but lately I'm so much sicker of the bullshit. I wouldn't of cared if i tipped over backwards in a puddled wet parking lot weeks earlier, but i would've preferred to not be seen in those conditions. Everybody has always told me i should know better; i do and i don't. I'm somewhere in between the two. Illusions with ecstasy eyes; even preparations don't stop the surprise. I always found it intriguing, all the things i could feel. My vision is beautiful, too, in a chemical state of mind. It's a bit more than curiosity. Forget the sun and capture the moon.

I'd smother your face with love from lips.

You can take anything you want from me

His soothing voice, like butter on my body, strains my ears in such a delicate way. It makes up for having to pass the time in a car with two strangers that have sadness seeping from the corner of their eyes, even seen from a back seat view. With my imagination i can be anywhere and visualize my surroundings perfectly, like a music video to the song in my ear. It's night and it's getting colder by the second, but i still refuse to close the sanded window. I'm indifferent to the cold rain drenching the skins of my face; it gives me something to feel when you're not around, so i lay low beneath these towering seats and pretend i can't be seen. Invisibility always gave me a sense of comfort when i didn't want to be found, so i build castles in air; I'm not directed by these strangers. I'd rather be lost without gas with you than be found with anybody else. Your rubber will leave our tracks on this pavement as i criticize the control of yours hands, but I've always loved the thrill of being powerless and high; or am i completely in control? Every touch you give dominates my mind while i run circles, spinning in your hair. Fingers grip scalp and I'm sinking into the sands of Spain. Like the flow of it's waters at four a.m when i can't sleep, i gaze into distant, but familiar territory. At this time of year it's just a desktop picture and under the cover of your bed; the only two places I've ever really felt safe while having lost all control. Take me over, I'll let this contingency deluge the pools of my body. I'm in the mood to discover you; i think i heard her singing. I'm saying this to you and thinking it for myself; you are her and her is you. Sometimes i forget in which way i should be speaking, but I'm never at a lose of feeling. Details used to hurt and now they only release my breathful thoughts. I watch her watch herself in the mirror, musing me perfectly, subliming ever corner of my mind. I inhale and release, my stare is stuck and my body is at ease; tranquility under covers during dawn of day. My favorite place to wake up.

Pandemonium

Our bodies spoke before our words, our hands found before our lips; my heart caught my mind by surprise. Tied up and twisted, our words were our tongues, defeating all possibility of using our intellect with vocal sounds, but instead, the pandemonium of our divvy hearts. With the moisture of my skin, i'd lather you. Similarity; what we find inside our crowded and empty bodies. Chemicals and you; you make my words flow just right. I've never been so inspired to put such busy thoughts on blank paper, i guess you're the only thing worth telling the world about! It's a transformation of creation, turn nothing into everything. SAVOR YOUR SOUL IN BETWEEN BLUE LINES AND EDGES OF YELLOW TREES, IT'S A CONSTANT REMINDER I WON'T WAKE UP IN A DREAM TO FIND THIS UNREAL. I've never felt this way before. It's November and I'm alive.

and she says her skin is thirsty...

Rapture me whole

I have such an ecstasy heart; rapturous delight.

She drew with a permanent marker, a smile on my face.

Of course i speak in imagination;

figuratively.

And i'll stick around and discover

what's hidden under the dust that keeps you from trust.

It's all beautiful.

Gray; you turn it into a cd reflection against my ceiling.

That's something you know how to do.

Every song reminds me of you,

no matter what the melody.

I fit it into you.

That's something you know how to do.

Marking margins at bottoms of beds!

I'd figure it out, but i don't necessarily want to. I'd breathe if i could, but this tension digs it's home in my chest. I lock my door and pretend it'll do the trick; it doesn't. Not a surprise. I graze your purple sweatshirt as i walk across the room, as it sits restfully on the back of my chair; hanging. I imagine it's sway, it's dance, as if your body filled it's figure. Your figure. I stop and stare. I hate this feeling, the one that i get when- i won't say it. Write it. Moving on. I used to be good at this stream of conscious ordeal, but I'm never moved on at the thought of this. Like a green highlighter staining the contents of a book I've never read and it's opened in the middle. I never do that, but i did. Perfect page. Marked my thoughts in margins; across pages. Ponder days later and don't remember why. It's always better not to remember why. I've always liked my privacy, so does this make it ironic? You wouldn't even know. Imagine what you'd like, but just because you aren't illiterate doesn't mean you aren't artificial. You bitch. Who are you? Don't pretend like you even know, 'cause if that wasn't the case, you wouldn't be wasting your pathetic breathe on these minor details of a life that doesn't involve you. Your jealousy is creepy and even you know it. I would laugh at you if i took the time to think about it. All of you. Stop reading now, 'cause  you might think I'm talking about you. You should be embarrassed; i would be. Now, i remember the tension even though i never forgot. Your lack of presence is haunting. I kind of miss you, brother.

My right hand is colder than my left; i love your wisdom.

Zestful.

I know these roads like i know the curve of you body. There are always places i want to go, but i struggle to reach. Holding me back, i extend all breathe in depths of your lungs. Provoked by tips of lips and the expression in your eyes, i move where you move. En wrapped in the mood of your stare, I'm caught up in everything you say. Ears are not always pierced to the backside of my door, but that doesn't keep the zest from shaking my spine. You're a charm to any body's soul, but I'm just as much yours as you are mine; any good life would be taken right from me if you were to walk away. It's permanently unquestionable.