clinging like a bird on wire, i reach for my phone. constantly teasing me with its intention, i realize there is nobody to call.

i wish they didn't exist

i have a new goal:

WRITE AGAIN

maybe i should find a religion too

it's gotten rough, time to get bumped around

i feel as if i have tamed a cougar

hello sky

it's time

today i can taste fall-windows low, striking yellow wildflowers

while the leaves turn greener from appreciation before mutating beautifully until a death, only to return again next year

windows have cracked this august forcing my into a phase of re-awakening

i can feel it coming

something gained after something lost-a summer of alteration in my mind

a soul begging to be reborn!

it's time

it's time for you to feel me again

I'm coming back as i was

and you say

I'm a weak, disappointing, negative, sinical asshole

it's ironic

hope

here is to a year of uncertainty without borders.

less.

don't exaggerate your smile, child

be a fanatic, be wild

flowers fell short from their pedals, all seeds will be spit to the dirt and delectation will not only rim, but saturate the lungs of every wise jovial thinker with each inhale of filtered oxygen; the kind that matters

for many, stretching the mind is a glass of wine never gripped and curiosity begs the hands of their keeper, touching what we were told never to do!

my scattered thoughts bread scattered words, yet your understanding never reached my importance-but what did?

everything that is held behind the eyes 

 

hi(gh)lo my friend

like the time we watched words dive like fireworks off the screen after eating shroom pizza, i'm illiterate to the process of my mind

our bodies are cramped inside the skins of a small tent while chains encircling our foreign surroundings- a world where the trees become our friends and where fires are fountains of stars

two very receptive bodies end the night blaming nonexistent construction for the adulteration of their minds, although the shrieking could never be excused

my mind can beat your mind

only one person knows what i'm talking about

i wonder what it would be like playing tennis on lsd

Minority!

White letter, you wreak of discomfort

bars keep inside a boy in the body of a man

twenty going on sixteen

you missed a few years of sobriety

Your mind is behind

wrapped up between the branches in the tree fort days

what would i know?

Dark concentration on the rear view mirror

could i be the face of a lesson?

couldn't we all?

My preparation is a turn off and it's ironic

because I'm not prepared for anything

Sometimes when i speak, i forget that the only thing open is your mouth

the shoal of a face faulty of its ears and eyes makes poor company

I, however, surround myself with a magic Eden in a carousal of bliss, all within the profile of a beautiful girl

I know what's real

Beauty misses it's crowd and just for a second she's not lonely

but when it stops to rain she loses sight of her own reflection

and realizes even water can become a tease

                     her own eyes have fooled her

You've got to stop playing tricks on me, mirror

It's reminding me too much of a night in a tent where i lay listening to you speak as i watched you diversify into an anteater.

I've been having way too much fun...

It's the golden years

You sit well in my mind, jump well in my heart

we're a kangaroo party until we greet the sun goodnight

fall in love with one another for the moment, hello stranger

say hello to my soul, it's coming out this time around

drop my shy to the floor and greet Spaniards with kisses throughout lovely summer days

Mr. Moon, you're looking pretty tonight

everybody and everything turns into my best friend

I take a picture in my mind because i know I'm going to look back

and wonder what ever happened to what we were

There are somethings that won't ever change

we all still wake up with the ocean in our pockets

and leave our trails of sand in each others beds

Burn memories into my mind, lovely

we're not young forever

Work the mind, my way.

Political pigs, political pigs, I'm interested in people and what makes them kick. There is no rational reason, "he's just the devil himself" or is that just what society made him? Guinea pig, come here and take a sip of education. Filter the mind by starting in the rooms-how about age five? My school reminds me of a cult and i fucking hate it. I'm not even Catholic. Are you working the mind or just brainwashing? I can play games too, but instead I'll just hold my girlfriends hand because i can. Sister, is that okay with you? Tension towers over the both of us, but mines not from lack of attention between the sheets. Unfortunately, i can't burn the words you've read from you head, but i can give you a colored moving image of what make your blood boil, your cheeks red, and you eyes flutter from you disgust, every single day. Remember not to lose your inside voice, we're trying to learn. Give me a few years and I'll show you just what you learn at a fucking Catholic school, but until then, don't hesitate to drop the books your fed. You're all just little guinea pigs.

I'm well!

With your hands stuck in the sand, I have yet to be released from your grip of psychotic mess. Disillusioned senses craving attention and I'm sure you strive on ever word i say. I'm not talking about chemicals or pills-I'm talking about eyes being blurred from coats of lies even you believe to be true. Health, please get back to her.

I've forgotten how to write without thinking and i miss the freedom of every word and movement in each finger. My eyes never seemed to be so peeled with focus to the screen and instead i would lose thought of where i kept them. The reason why I'm so quiet-i never want to give the impression of stupidity, just like EACH AND EVERY ONE of you have. I realize how angry my words can be, but almost everything purifies this emotion.

 Don't forget the good things...

Eyes having affairs with things that are not yours; i write in secrets, what can i say... aloud?

Can you believe it?

http://www.publicagenda.org/charts/countries-where-homosexuality-illegal

http://www.ilga.org/news_results.asp?languageID=1&FileID=531

What came to mind-

Some days I miss the sun when it goes away

The future makes me cry and so does the sound of Florida when i hear it slip her mouth. Desperation and depression-bridges and eighteen dimes with two nickels to hop an island. Drifting a foot in the air, gliding above four wheels, i'm taken by houses on an east coast and i feel lonely because i don't know anybody around here- i am a stranger every where i go. I want to have a porch and a sunroof as an attic and i'm not looking forward to any breaks- a thought of an emotion brings emotion- as i lay in a bed in Jamestown while wet eyes see through low ceilings. Cliffs and water collide, but i'm still sprinting down a beach because i got lonely on the walk. The drive home was extra dark tonight and if i died on the ride, i wouldn't have been okay with leaving you.

Typical Friday?

There's an empty room that a stripped tee-shirt boy plays his piano for, but for now we're still clarity filled and our eyes are not yet red as we mold in the couch at the back of the room. Feet take us to the boutique shop upstairs where she buys records and i buy an old man pipe for eight bucks-the incense were for her mother. Awkwardly park our car in a dead give away corner, so we rearrange ourselves besides a truck and ease the glass down a few inches for raw air. Laughter and the giggles-always taking her forever to pass and i hallucinate snowmen over my left shoulder, gripping the wheel inside the truck behind us. Men running around us or at least half a mile away and ever single pair of lights she sees, "COPS!" Every time i believe her; she blows her smoke to the floor and i don't know why. After a sincere cry, we pace over a frozen patch of water and walk into an audience of a small crowd where we turn our heads to hear, "Hey, do you lady's want to sit on the couch with us, there is room?"

Gay boys wanna get creative? "Come on, it'll be fun," he says while petting her blonde hair...

Tale of the mind

With sharp eyes penetrating the pavement stripped endlessly in front of me, I'm considering every detail fiercely because i don't want to miss a thing. I study the fields from a distance because the passion was lost somewhere down the road. Remembering our slow motion jog framing years to your fate-so far I've been lucky. I want to dream in a house where our walls are the grass, tipped with the sun as our shelter while letting myself be mesmerized by the coil of your fingers tracing nature at its very best. Our two bodies stretched naked as rivers on any ground we can call our valley-we are earths rivers. In an endless dale of green our loneliness is compared to our lack of flawless oxygen-so pure, needling my senses in delight, suspending all pain for eternity in our minds. Our smiles reach the birds without leaving us behind-our souls are atmospheric. Loneliness is futility and our sky is a green mountain coating the silhouette of blue trees-they are the homes to the birds that riposte our queries. The time is our feel-clocks lacking numbers and hands for them to fall upon. Nothing is falling. Two hands to every soul; they are meant for holding. Technology wasn't so fortunate this "time" around. All comfort is kept in vision, in arms reach and every patch of skin was meant to be touched by you, my beautiful wonder world.

Lacking balance

I

M

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My eyes are slow to move and my mind is slow to think. Catching myself glaring in insignificant directions, i wonder my appearance and to what they may think. Trees and students turn cartoon and everything is surreal. Questioning when this distinction of human race turns to artwork coming alive. After so long, my stares may look thoughtful, but my thoughts are lost and i don't know where i am. Someone tell me, please, how long have i been away?

Sometimes i catch myself playing in fantasy and my eyes are the coats of my thoughts.

Anarchy thoughts-let me show you what I can get away with. It's 2009, drop the bible and where's your fucking wisdom? Lets bring the balance without the papers, come on now.

Aren't you all just poising yourselves selfishly?

Summer of last year

Everything is beautiful

Simplicity at it's best.