92. She's a Waterfall

The future's forgotten darlings, empty pockets and all.
Standing at the foot of the bed, I watched you.
Studying your every last move, the way your nose crinkles, how your hair falls, the way your chest rises.
Empty pockets and all.
You're my home now, twisted in bedclothed disarray.
Empty pockets and all.

91. Lusting for wander

Miserable midnights, laced with a longing for passion.
Spoon fed stories, poisoned by predictable tongues.
The silence speaks, much more than you.
The truth leaks, far less than your fiction.
Leave silently.
No goodbyes,
less than necessary.
Forever forward,
blame the backward.
Curse the stagnant,
embrace the desire.

90. it's all that I have

Blue moonlight.
I spend my weekends watching the sun come up, and never stepping outside until early morning. When its dark. Plastic room keys, stale sheets, bitter tea from paper cups. Offensively friendly hotel staff. Who's gonna cut me down to a size that suits me? This life takes too long, I spend it driving 5.3 miles to a prison, from a prison. Peering into windows with the lights on, hoping praying to see some kind of movement, a flicker of life a 25 miles per hour. I can't cry right. I don't know where this is leading me, I don't know if I want it to lead me anywhere. There's a taste in my mouth that isn't reminiscent of a passion or joy. Its more of a longing, a desperation. I'm dying slowly to live slower. Emergence from a shell, so to speak; speaking softly.
Foul weather friend I'm tired of blaming everyone else. I'm too tired for everything.

89. nothing

on and off the wagon.
in and out of phases.
on and off the track.
in and out of sleep.
on and off the fence
in and out of my mind.
need to.
want to.
have to.
must do "the right thing"

88. Desensitized

Malignant & Malicious.
Unforgiving and unnerving, much like cancer.
Turned off by emotion, switched on by negligence.
Thinking hurts.
Complaining annoys.
Silence is golden.

87. Call your bluff, get away.

Minutes blend,
days pass.
Nights are unable to mend,
"I've got some bad ideas and too much time to use them".
Days blend,
months pass through me.
Old,
enough to know better.
Dumb,
enough to forget.
Angry,
enough to never forgive.

86. Terminal B

Absolutely
Bored
Considering
Details.
Everything
Fails
Grievously.
Handling
Insipid
Judgement
Kindly.
Loving
Madly.
Negating
Opinionated
Promises.
Questioning
Ravenous
Sincerity.
Touching
Wildly.
Xenophillicly
Yammering
Zealously.

Topics as of late are concentrated solely on love, or the lack there of.
Is it because I want it that way? Am I too picky? Is no one paying attention? Am I that unlovable?
You don't have to tell me.
It's one degree of extreme, or the other.
I'm in my room from 5 pm on,
or out with people until three am.
There's no significant changes occurring inside of me.
I simply float.
I don't feel as hyper talented or likable as everyone seems to think I am.
I don't feel anything but empty.
You must be such a fool to pass me by.

85. Procession

The destruction has only begun.
Moments in ruins,
movements of solution.
Subjective and suggestive.
Predictable and quantifiable.
"I count disasters on my free hands now"
With no end in sight,
still "searching for the light."
Your reflection is only what you make it out to be.
Destructive.
Objectified.
Disgusting.
"It seems like I've been here before."
Stalking houses,
talking is far too crowded.
Locked in,
shut down.
Safe in the shell.

84. Perfecting Lonliness

With the flick of a wrist and an adjustment to light.
Crushed by a set of pale blue yes, perfection in yellow.
Feelings long forgotten, or buried you decide which.
All came barreling back furiously.
I should have been focused on sleep.
I should have been focused on having the time of my life.
But there you were, perfection in yellow.
Interruptions.
Intrusion.
Inverted determination.
Long walks, and the threat of rain.
Comfortably indiscriminate.
Quietly discerning.
Thinking loudly.
"Everything I saw, was everything I'd want"
Left now with nothing but this.
Longing for something more.
Searching for something sure.
Trying for something pure.


Waiting in idle.

Absolutely yours,
s.

83. snarky little shit eater

Dedicated to you, and all your smarmy, thinly veiled journal entries.
I stopped caring a long time ago
stop fucking writing about me.

I can never take
what you will never give.
Defining your movement
Forcing the drift.
Its always the permanence that fades before my interest even starts to wane.
memories maintain a miserable even keel
I am Nothing
For Nobody
Forever
Left to your own devices
waiting for moments to fall into your hands
Self-Inflicted
Self-Implosion
So Misdirected
So fucking dejected
All I feel is repulsion
towards all your compulsions.
All that I see,
is what we'll never be

82. highway hypnosis

Broken spirits, and broken white lines.
Aimless muggy walks, curbside life discussions, all sparked by the need for something.
The summer starvation and for some its a sweltering salvation.
Resting your eyes in fifth gear, 32 fluid ounces of iced liquid ambition.
It never helps.
Lack of focus at 80 MPH.
Lights flash,
the quiet hum of a transmission.
No respite,
no shelter.
Summer starvation in the haze of mental swelter.

81. we hung our clothes up on the floor

You think you're sly.
They bite the bait, you reel them in reeling, a new conquest newly conquered.
An oil change is a small price to pay in the long run.
Twisting of sheets.
Turning the truth in your favor.
Young and far from impressionable, get off as much as possible.
"Lets get you some strange".
Running for so long.
Longing to run.
You're so charming and clever.
Witty and eccentric.
Look at you go.
Putting your faith in closed doors.


one day...

80. three hundred and sixty five nights of sleeping alone

"They say that the classics never go out of style but, they do, they do. Somehow baby, I never thought that we do too."

79. Simply put

Take this away from me, and I swear I'll bury you

78. I won't tell anybody

Would you put your arms around me ?
(I won't tell anyone)
Tomorrow
Does it have to come ?
All I ask of you is one thing that you'll never do

77. I swear I have nothing to prove

leave me alone

for you know this isn't the first time

In fact this is twice in a row

that the angels have slipped through our landslide

and filled up our garden with snow

and I dont wish to taste of your insides

or to call out your name through my phone

for the glory boys at your bedside

will love you as long as you're something to own

So many things go through my head at the same time, so many memories, so many emotions. It's never been an exciting, positive or happy feeling.

Why start now?

The constant invariable is dying for variables.

He is thirsty for change

He is hungry for love

He is deprived of all of it.

While everything everyone could want or need to make them happy falls into their lap, he sits quietly and painfully in the corner watching while they get it.

All this work

All this effort

All this time wasted

All these emotions squandered

76. all i have left is this heart in my chest, your dishonesty helping me cope

"It's been a long time since I've been close to you
It's been a long time since I've been sad.
It's been a while since I've really spent time with you
Wish I could take back the times that I had.
The only thing that you ever really did for me
Was make me oh so miserable.
And the hope that I never see your face again
Is anything but questionable."

75. strictly analog to digital

Composed in the club quarters central loop room 730, on 5.30.2010.

A drawn curtain, courtesy pamphlets, out dated novels and tarnish on my desk lamp. A stomach full of fruit fried up from the sun and starch from the dirt. My aching legs coincide with an aching mind. These old feelings from what I left behind. Flirtatiously arduous texts fill the time, time, time. The time between destinations. Feelings of suprise at the mutual attraction, and anticipation to see what's next. A familiar disgust. Second rate bergamot infusion from a leaky pot, a snoring compadre on the verge of abandonment "communication breakdown, it's always the same". Why is it that I can't stop thinking about you? Why is it that I'm so stuck on the rest of you?

74. a room with a view

The following was conceived on the floor of terminal A
Always
Batting
Concealed
Destinies.
Eternally
Feigning
Greatful
Hallowed
Indecisivness.
Justifiably
Killing
Love
Methodically.
Notions
Of
Passionate
Queiries
Reflect
Stand-offish
Temperment.
Undeniably
Vexed
Without
Xenophobic
Youthful
Zealousness.

73. tangled up in flat black

I could keep you all to myself

Hanging on to waiting for moments to fall in your lap.

Left to your own devices,

a victim to your own ruin.

Others accountable for self-inflicted wounds,

I know you've got to be free.

You see in spirals that only go down,

a kaleidoscope of self-implosion.

I dream in flat black,

all these monotone memories maintain a miserable even keel.

One day they'll catch up,

to all your hiccups.

A lifestyle so inedible,

a reaction so un-incredible.

Surprise was never an option.

It was mandatory,

in accordance with the same old story.

My repulsion,

towards your compulsions.

Your pleasures for all this judgement will one day turn on you.

So free yourself