.nausea.

i push the feeling down
as a wave of nausea and expectation rise
at the base of my throat
i’m ill over the idea of you

lost in my thoughts because my lips
refuse to part
i don’t want a single sound to escape
or you’ll know
and my eyes wander in the distance
over your head, anywhere but into the gaze of your eyes
no point in you seeing the way I feel
if my words will never catch up

you captivate me and even as these letters
become another word in reference to you
i still can’t speak
my tongue longs for the day when
it can whisper my passions
into your ear

Untitled

Sitting here unclothed but covered in thoughts of you
Skin warm to the touch
Defiant acceptance of this craving manifested in the physical reaction my body has
Every time your name is whispered between my lips
So I cover them, but you escape
And I'm aware, so aware of this
Yet I sit here naked, exposing myself to you
In hopes that you'll see me, see to the core of this ends to justify a means
You are
the infinite hope in my heart that love is frayed at the seams
Waiting for two souls to pull it back together
Grab the other end

"Different: The Dirty Word"

I hate feeling like I have to change who I am to be somebody to the rest of the world.

I love being me. Being quirky, different, passionate & able to do things that most don't think about.

Why is being yourself considered such a bad thing these days? If you're not a clone, you're a random lost face in the crowd.

I write. I'm a writer. The company of others can be a bonus (or nuisance) but isn't really necessary. Peace of mind is all I really desire.

Everything is electronic now: all forms of art. It's hard to be seen, be heard or appreciated when you're competing in a sea filled with constant overstimulation of senses. There's no room for people who are merely interested in simple pleasures like writing a letter, reading poetry from a book or sharing a few laughs face to face.

I was jokingly called "grandma" by someone a month ago because I said owned books and refused to read electronic books. I love the crispness of turning pages, the smell of the ink on the page, the feeling of the binding running against the palm of my hands. That's all the sensory experience I need curled up on my couch.

Perhaps I'm a dreamer because I can't go backwards, but what's in front of me isn't inviting or appealing. I'm starved for genuine human connection, affection and attention. Real life and not the kind in reality shows. I want to live a life of purpose. Is that too much to ask?

Life seems to have lost all meaning of originality and excitement. Everyone has access to everything and everyone all the time. There is no element of surprise. There is nothing to look forward to. It's like a world of living zombies. The damage is far worse than I ever imagined it could be.

I'm alone because I'm different. Different used to be a good thing. Now it's like a dirty word.

Untitled

Stuck at the corner of “I’ll change” and “I didn’t mean to hurt you”

I’m running late for the best thing that ever happened to me

Getting over you

Another detour 

It’s as if I’m meant to be reminded 

That you’re not interested in loving me
Even though my heart is set on being the best part of you
I’ve crashed head first into denial

And the “I love you’s” sound brand new

.saturate.

Saturate my present with memories of your past and leave my future dry
I'm building a dam to keep what's behind us out
Current love pending with creation of a foundation that can
Withstand the red ink, yellow tape and glaringly obvious stench of moral decay
The most beautiful part of a damaged wing is that it's still struggling to fly
Save me as I save you

untitled

false truths fall faster from your lips
than I love you can hide behind my eyes
the speed of fear and love at the intersection
of reality
chasing you like a thief in the night
you’ve stolen my heart and run away with it
too afraid to stay and let it beat inside the palms
of your hands
so
you squeeze, I’m without breath, air
i’m starved for your affection
and alive merely by the will to eat

Counting Sheep

Breathing in rhythms of pain and loss,
Love lays over me like a tattered sheet on a brisk night
Everything exposed to the elements of harsh reality; you're never coming back
Legs tangle, arms fold & unfold
Eyelids flutter endlessly in an attempt to will the darkness to bring comfort
To bring some sort of solace to the groove where
My heart used to be
Sunken memories between sheets and pillows smell of yesterday's passion
I'm
Caught in sensory overload and standing on the edge of madness
I'm
Awake
Troubled by the empty thud banging against my ribs and drumming as if some ancient ritual of self infliction
Would bring you, my lover, back into my arms
Back into those cool summer nights, a mess of brown skin, arms that found their way in slumber
Around waists and traced designs on hips and curves that became a roadmap of love within each journey
Lips that warmed, slightly opened and the sound of air escaping between them reminds love that the distance is merely inches from your grasp
And eyes opened to stare, fingers ran blindly, yet so aware over those lips
And remember the first time they met,
The first time that something greater than sleep with the ability to render bliss
Became a way of life
I'm
Lost again in yesterday's want, mixed with the desire to learn you again, ceiling twisting and cracking as pieces fall onto my face
I've never been good at counting sheep

.Click.

Fake friends, fake lives, fake pictures, fake eyes. A generation of photoshopped, cut & pasted lies.

Would they know a laugh if they heard it or does “lol” just suffice?

Real fingers touch skin, lips kiss corners & crevices of bodies that
That keyboards can’t touch, no matter how many strokes
 And with a click you’re forgotten

Love becomes a quote, a phrase, lyrics in angst from misunderstood songs and displaced anger becomes lines of white haste swiftly relocating to nasal cavities, deteriorating from the inside out

Souls inside out

Ripped clean from the hinges of innocence 

Dangling arms and legs, strings that guide and overseeing hands tangled in their provocative ties

There’s no limit even after the edge of the cliff when nothing is beneath their feet but air, because society assures them that to pretend is to care

Fighting for nothing and dying for everything but the will to live, these young soldiers thrown into battle unprepared for the war on their minds as a means to their core

Swept under the rug of misfortune,

Misfits miss this and sequential hits to the possibilities of a socially conscious lift

They’re pinned down by their ears

And dumbed by the slicing of their tongues

Language is the barrier to knowing more


But the men on our currency fold and line pockets that disintegrate the keys to that door

Love's Labryinth

Talking until my lips turn blue
Cold air passing between them
Landing anywhere but near your ears
You don't hear me

It's as if the audio on your heart has turned down the logic in you mind and things are scrambled, jumbled and ready to topple over at a moments notice
You're unstable, like a house built without a foundation
You will never be home.

My thoughts fold like origami and try to make sense of the person before me
Layers of something with an end product of hidden chambers, interlocking bits & pieces
How did we get here? Love's labyrinth

I've lost you and myself in the process
Chasing your insecurities like thieves in the night
Wanting you whole was my only crime
Yet I've been sentenced to life without reciprocity

So my hearts stops banging inside my chest and splits into two,
every memory, moment and passion begins to spill out
And stain the walls of my body
I'm missing again

-untitled-

Falling out of love is like hearing drops of your soul hit the corners of a metal tin can, a quick splash here & there,
The echoes of loneliness like a hollow drum, beating a rhythm only tears can hear
The sound of pain, the way it reflects & slides down into every corner, every crevice & dries
It's as if it was never there
But the taste of salt still lies on fingertips,
That captured them from eyes, moist with regret
Love once was held there in stolen moments, nights of passion & kisses that lingered in hidden places
Bruises of love's faults left just beneath the surface
Of a heart that beats no more

.abbreviate.

i've learned to abbreviate
the way my heart feels each time you cut a piece off
and put it in your pocket, for safe keeping you say
but i never see it again
and the hole left bleeds until it dries
forms a scar
and then you return
for another peace of me
f.o. (fuck off)

untitled

remember the days before lost lovers words were left hanging
like ashes on the end of a burning cigarette
between lips
expectant of what tomorrow would bring
we’ve traced these lines time and time again
yet the picture remains the same sketch of misery
so we dance
bodies disjointed and fragmented between torso and head
we’ve come undone

.thoughts.

You make me feel attractive from the outside-in again. It's been so long since I've felt appreciated or desired. It's like I've been wasting away, my roots planted firmly in love but no water to nourish the part of me that grows above ground. Then came you...

I hate the internet

Really? Every relationship, every moment, every thought, every idea of who you "are" is based on the internet. In fact, if I could post this in a newspaper and thought it might even be seen, I would. Instead I'll settle for the fact the maybe one or two people may read this because I'm not half naked perpetrating to get attention. Where are all the real people? Do they even exist anymore? Or is it all just a show to prove who can outdo who? The funny thing is more than half of the people who spend 23.5 hours on the internet are boring, anti social, lonely, awkward people who use the internet to bully people while posting pictures as if they run shit. I'm over it. I'm over the hype & the b.s. I want to meet real people with real thoughts who do real things. Just recently I met a handful of real people and it was like learning to breathe again because I'm so tired of being around/near people who are always trying to compete and be cool. It's so disgusting and pathetic. Like whatever happened to being who you are and that being enough? Now you need the right hair, right eyes, right hair color, right phone, right extracurricular activities -- gotta be seen at the right events hanging with the "right" people. All of it is such a turn off and I feel like the people that are real are becoming extinct. You can't even date people anymore who aren't competing with you. Lame.As.Fuck.

mind.sex.

I want to make love to her mind
Without touching her skin
Her body alive & wet beneath my fingertips, not touching
But hovering above the very soul
Of her existence
Exploring
My lips inches from her ears
Travel down the nape of her neck
Whispers that
Caress, kiss & soothe
Her mouth opened slight moans escape
& catch in her throat
I grab each sound & wrap it around my tongue
Teeth pressed against it
I breathe in her sounds
As if I could live off of each second
That she inhales
Layered intensity, I've climbed each
Mountain shes placed before me
Each peak nestled in chocolate & quivering beneath each word
Taste my passion and nestle in my thirst
I'm captivated & sinking into the depths of your waters
While standing on the shore
I'm waiting for you to meet halfway
So exhale

[untitled]

Save me as
I'm falling, faster and further from
a place I thought I'd never be
in a dream from which I seem to never wake
my mind wraps itself around your thoughts
as if sealing your wounds with me could heal

I'm pushing my way into your soul,
with every glance
every word formed between my lips
every word waiting on on the edge of my tongue
I'm but a breath waiting to be exhaled
the release, a reprieve from the silent cries
that are mourned when the sun dips into the horizon
and night drapes like a cloak over your heart

Caught in a moment between yesterday
today and tomorrow
I'm hanging by strings that I never saw
attached to my limbs
jerky movements & stiff obscurity
holding you, holding me
we're being held together by something
more powerful than each other

I'm pulling you inside of me
verbs, adjectives, and nouns
beautiful being
I've claimed you as my person, place or thing
I'm missing
I'm missing
you're moving faster than I can conjugate
I'm learning a language
I know I'll never speak

But silence is mine
as are you wthin the confines
of these letters
these words
this passion
and I've fallen
there is nothing to it
I lay cracked at your feet, in pieces
in peace says
shattered bliss

[untitled]

Constant vowels, consonants & hard syllables
I'm lost in maze of verbs, adjectives & nouns that tell me everything and nothing at the same time
I'm hearing another language for the first time
And its as if the sounds were made for my ears, the passion meant for my heart
But my tongue still trying to catch up and keep on track
With the conjugation of these letters that form that words that have become pieces of my life
I'm destined to touch each sound with the taste of desire, echoing as if each time it would be more faint
So I'm cut & pasted with ink papered stories of yesterday, today appearing like symbols in Arabic on a yellowing pad of paper
& the stench of empty promises glaze over eyes
That remember how to see what ears failed to hear the first time around
Pure bullshit.

.the age of disrespect.

I try and try to wrap my head around the reasons people seek attention outside of their "seemingly" perfect relationships. What is accomplished by flirting and getting your head/ego blown up by someone other than the person you are dating? What is the point of hiding friendships that you know aren't just "friendships" from your significant other because you just have to have those conflict causing individuals in your phone, on your facebook, twitter, tumblr, instagram. What's really interesting is why so many people who are out to ruin your relationship have that much access to you at all -- even more curious is why you continue to entertain them after you've been warned.

Most of us who get cheated on (physically and/or emotionally) are usually the ones who'd give our fuckin left lung for the person we are dating, yet it's never reciprocated. Sure, we get pacified with "we're just friends" and "he/she doesn't like me" yet no matter where you turn those barnacle people are still clinging to the rungs of your relation-ship that is slowly sinking into the murky waters of distrust.

Perhaps if they hadn't already been caught in numerous lies in regards to these people, the trust would be there. Just break up. That's what everyone says, but when you try to break it off, no one ever wants to let you leave. After you've invested so much and have done nothing to deserve the wandering eye, you almost want a refund. Like can I get back some sort of emotional reparations for the time, energy and tears I've spent during these years with you? So lemme get this straight, I'm supposed to trust (after trust has been broken multiple times over a few years), pretend your interactions with these people you've crossed lines with in the past are just "friendly" and not wonder who you're texting, tweeting, tumblr'ing with at all hours of the night and just be cool with it all?

Is it the age of disrespect? Literally and chronologically. It's funny, when I was growing up no one sat on the internet day in and day out. In fact you didn't use the internet to date, meet people or cheat. People interacted face to face. One on one. Flesh to flesh. This younger generation is moving at a pace their little brains cannot even comprehend. The drugs, sex, music and inability to communicate without symbols or using ridiculous acronyms is a clear indicator that we've long gone past the time where connecting with each other actually meant something. Socially awkward in person, yet online they create personas, photoshop each and every part of their body until it becomes a collage of what they think is everyone's favorite "eye candy"...no identity and no hope. No originality, no loyalty and no clue what it means to have genuine friendships or relationships. 16 and pregnant. He loves me. Then he loves me not and leaves and now these kids are babies raising babies. I can't help but think so many different facets of society brought things to this point.

As a person who grew up when kids used to still play outside and didn't sit in front of a television all day, it's hard to navigate the friendship as well as the dating scene. People are very different now. Two people can be friends or even in a relationship sitting in the same room, but you'd never know because both are face deep in their new "i do everything but fuck you" phones and other devices. Why read a book when you have another device for that? Why even talk to anyone because more than likely every expensive piece of technology you own will talk back to you if you ask it a question? What does all of this mean? And why do I feel it's made so many of us desensitized and heartless to the point where we'd snap a picture of a celebrity in a coffin for an undisclosed amount of money and post it on the internet just for fame? What is wrong with people and why don't they care anymore?

I guess I'm just old-fashioned because I want that old school, Brown Sugar, "you're the perfect verse over a tight beat" kinda love. I don't feel like it exists anymore except in the movies. There is an overabundance of love movies now because we all crave that closeness, that togetherness that we've lost in all the static. I've seen this more in dating those that are younger than me. My argument of not sitting in the same room for 6 hours on opposite sides on the computer or phone after we haven't seen or barely had contact with each other all day is lost in a bunch of "I just want to relax" hymns. How in the fuck can you relax if your eyes are glued to your phone clicking on eight different social networking sites and the tv is going with some mindless reality show on? We are overstimulated to the point that human interaction no longer stimulates us the way it used to -- for some, I think it bores them. So then your relationship becomes background noise to all the excitement that the pretend people online bring to the glazed eyes of the person you thought you loved.

Now I'm sure this happens to people who date older people as well because for so many the only way to get exposure, be seen and have a "voice" (if you will) is by parading yourself around online for the world to see just how awesome you are at all times of the day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. You're sick and with a push of a button and the click of a cameraphone flash, the whole world will electronically see your pouting, but poised "sick" face over a bowl of chicken soup and immediately shower you with the attention that your significant other who's at work can't. What they fail to realize is that people who are always available to like every photo, comment on every post & be over the top sycophants lack the ability to perform in "real life." Real life translates to that place where you have to interact face to face, where instead of commenting on chicken soup, you're the person who actually made it for the person posting the picture. Instead of sucking their teeth at the photos of you OUT with the person you are dating, they could be trying to create a life with memories and a relationship of their own -- but they don't. They sit at home and electronically begin to type into the heart of your loved ones when you're not around. Sure we all like to hear that we are great and attractive, but what I ask is "at what cost?" What is really worth it to lie and conceal inappropriate relationships with people who simply seek the same attention you do? Half the time when people leave the one that loved them, for the one that acts like a groupie, they find out very quickly that loyalty died when they crossed that bridge. If he/she is spending hours flirting with you, can you not assume that they are doing the same to 10, 20 maybe 50 other people if this all they do all day long? Most of them don't even have anything to offer your significant other and realistically can't compete, but the lure of "attention" proves to be more enticing than anything that your love, loyalty or stability can offer them.

No relationship is perfect -- and nobody is perfect, but don't we all deserve a chance at happiness, free from the stain of infidelity, mistrust and the need to always be some place where you think the grass is greener? I don't want to look over my shoulder to see where my Love is. I want my Love walking beside me as we look forward, together.

.shooting star.

Moments pass by like raindrops hurling toward their destiny at full speed
Slow down they say but time is already escaping us as words form and lay
Every second is slipping away
When today becomes tomorrow
And your thoughts become tangled, muddled and stained
with what you didn't say

Like a shooting star I want to blaze through your realm and illuminate everything within my path
If only for a short while
Bring heat where there were no flames
And reclaim the darkness where fallen dreams were slain

I'm almost there, I'm becoming dimmer as I get closer to the ground, closer to the roots that hold the inability to change in their design - firm and resolute
So I'll disappear into the night, but
I'm always a light upon your face
A time when space was undefined and ablaze with a living memory.

"scare crow"

windswept dreams chased into a corner,
darkness engulfing each and every inch of solace
each and every piece of sanity
limp, wet, with yesterday's blood, sweat and tears
it doesn't matter now
because nobody cares

in between a dream, a rock and a hard place
lies the moment of clarity
the idea that reality could be so much better than what you've been given
stacked, rhymed, reasoned and forgiven
this life wasn't meant to be lived
it was meant to be felt, challenged and breathed into a soul
a soul without refuge in a body and a mind
holding it hostage
a soul, intricate and held together with the threads of hope
the ability to nurture, grow and cope

channels flip back and forth across static into the heavens of
eternal endlessness and
blank canvas becomes stained with mental hues, that align
and infuse
this shit could be something
it could really be something
but even in the seconds that begins to unfold
and time tells a story that was already told
it stings and burns with the religious burden of faith
when more suffering lies ahead

a head
filled and stuffed with straw
perched in a field of corn, hung high on a four way
but a puppet to scare the crows, you willing scarecrow
the crows who pick and pull you from your wits
you've come undone now
your senses are blowing into the sky