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

72. Cry about it why don't you?

Tonight's soundtrack

Give me back 
my pictures of me.
Me, you and him makes three.
It figures the wheezing will measure your rate of depress and i hope you know.
Like a bitch in heat,
I hope she know.

So put another penny in and turn the crank
until the frames cease to move,
and the movie turns into a photo,
a photo the size of a kiss,
I hope she knows.

Staring at this Parisian sex flick,
where the characters don't meet,
the characters don't speak,
and the characters are like mirrors facing mirrors:
Space always expanding.

So put another coin in and turn the crank
until the frames cease to move
and the movie turns into a photo,
a photo the size of my fist
I hope she knows.

A hiccup in paradise
I keep you jealously to myself,
in photos the size of a kiss
a kiss in the shape of a bullet.

On phone lines and letterhead,
I'm dying about.
I'm dying about.
(x2)

I've watched you whore yourself for one more thing, 
won't you sell yourself for one more?
There's always one more thing, why don't you sell yourself?
If I can't have you no one will.

Pushing a lover 
to love another.
Are you turned on?
Are you turned on?
(x2)

A hiccup in paradise
I keep you jealously to myself,
in a photo the size of a kiss,
a kiss in the shape of a bullet.

On phone lines and letterhead
I'm dying about
I'm dying about
(x2)

A hiccup in paradise
I keep you jealously to myself,
in a photo the size of a kiss
a kiss in the shape of a bullet.

I keep you jealously to myself.
(x4)
A kiss in the shape of a bullet.

Bring on the night