Moss

As I lower my eyelids I fall into a deep saturated forest,

I can no longer bare the smell of burning rubber from the dirty street, 

Human to human aggression

Your drugs.

political views.

And green turned to black pavement.

Engraved Bones

In a much more simple way, you said the ink that's spilled from my pen speaks flamboyance and eccentricity. Is it wrong to hate you for those seconds of misunderstanding until a realization that your hurt and suppression disallows you to express. Your emotion, like a shaken carbonated liquid, as sensitive as the terrible twos. It explodes onto the surface before seeping within. I dig your soul out of your shell, struggling to embrace it and heal it's intangible wounds. Years of nurturing trail scattered behind me and I wonder what I have done wrong. But as I begin to engrave into my bones, the truth of who I am, all this time, have I been spoon feeding a soul that can only fully nourish itself? 

Side Effects

When I hear it I just know,

That first guitar strum will make me happier then any boy who thinks they're a man, who degrades along with their cultures narrow minded commercialized relationships and make me nauseous belief that all those side effects in the fine printed undertones really do seem so lovely covered up with that prancing butterfly under the yellow sun and upbeat music from a dark elevator bringing us all to a low vibration of lies and brain washed foggy minds surrounded by clouds of smog and smoke and exhaust and tears bleed from my eyes as I wonder if this blood orange is really passed over by that hose of chemicals, and how much my brain has been washed into believing these green labels. Looking pretty, eating shit, trying to believe what I hear, trying not to believe what I hear, the amount of times saves the day has saved my day from you. 

Happy Birthday

still branches luminated by the moonlight cry to sway again.

This time of year reminds you of the blessing of solemness, 

my shivering bones rattle and shatter the apathy,

Its this annual pondering that bring my thoughts to autumn, 

On days spent watching the burnt leaves fall to the soil, 

Waiting for your voice to acknowledge the celebration of when my soul became tangible, 

But just as the birds plucked the seeds from the sunflowers, 

That towered above my golden hair, 

My day dreams flew inside their beaks, Soon to dissipate. 

Bee

When I most need solitude, I wish to be a magnet. Anything with a heartbeat will do. I imagine myself as a droplet of honey, sweet and desirable. I strive to fill a hole that can only be filled by my own sweet nectar. The unbearable glimpse of my awkward body alone in a crowd, an ant surrounded by a million colonies, yet like an elephant making its way through a tea party. The silence of my mind makes my heart flutter like a hummingbird. 

SMS

Every letter pressed is a heartbeat away from a pool of my own organs floating in a vision of your photographs,

And even if you're just a vision my soul still leaves my figure and floats beside yours through celestial milky ways and over grey dark polluted oceans that resemble the past, but we laugh until we're back stroking through the waves that are now filled with every color that radiates from our chests and I turn to the side and your face has morphed into my own, confused, I blink and it's you, and you tell me the light that's blinded us from reality fills all of the gaps and flowers from the seeds begin to grow. And for the record, I never meant for it to be this strange, as stained glass and mahogany tower over years of collectables from a commercialized dream, tears pour down the dirty walls and stagnancy remains. And I don't know where we're going but we wanted to get lost. The moon hung from a frozen sky over the supernatural earth. And no matter what pours out of mouth, nothing scares and frees me more than when our eyes meet and I crawl back to the puddle. 

Chest Watch

Time is precious

But it's moving so slow.

Time 

doesn't have to exist. 

We can reside in the fields of grass and I can pop my head through the long strands

Just to say hi and remind you I'm still here,

Oh to roll around in the dirt just to prove that the magic is never lost. 

Only the ticking hands of our heart will slow up and speed down as to prove mans clock is a contrary delusion in the world of love. 

It's black and white and then it's grey

And I'm afraid I can't see you as clear, 

through the dust of fireworks that have bursted in the past. 

It's feels good not to be wanted.

No walls to tower over your chest. No hours spent studying your glass reflection to pick apart your shell until your insides are on display, shattering ribs and blank window stares. Did you let yourself go? Can I set myself free... Our analytical minds, like birds picking at what's wasting in the skull, a slow disintegration into the body of the earth. She spits your pieces back out, and you begin to find yourself, desperate and confused, searching for another shell that will crack you until you're empty again. Lust is torturous wonderment with ribbons plastered around our eyes. 

Slides

I wish you'd appreciate the moon,
it's a nice escape from living under each others microscopes.

Like Joni

I was looking for my soul mate,

you were in the front of my head,

like Joni, 

traveling on a lonely road,

Oh, the bliss in running from all the mistakes we've made,

I'm afraid to make the wrong choices,

wishing the ribbon were tied a little tighter across my brows,

growing up to fast,

I watched you never grow up, 

Then we were escaping from that man you grew to dislike,

the one who saw stars after his accident, 

following the white polar bear, you told me never to look back, 

we awed at those silver water droplets you were convinced to be faeries, 

swung into the ice crystals in the sky, 

a magical adolescents.