Shit.

I am so lost without you
You look so good without me

I hang on
You've let go

I am empty
You are full

Me, down
You, up.

Incomplete,
Content.

A Cento,

That room and me, rejuvenate a past.
Something, perhaps, about the lack of sound-
Slight as it is, disturbs me.

The sound is spirited, green, and full of silence
Long after it was heard no more
Outlived.

Our dried voices, when
Trying to keep still,
the shells were screeching overhead.

Stilled by the shouting, the audience,
The only way to be quiet is to be quick:
For this, for everything, we are out of tune.

For empty hands

My words poured out onto your feet, they poured out to you.
You kept a hushed tone and no, you did not run.
But we walked away,
simultaneously knowing this was for the best.
For the best reason we are not yet aware of,
but it's coming,
just as this new season is briskly beginning to chill our skin.
And underneath these goosebumps,
we are stitched with the shredding string that tied us together.
But it was not nearly strong enough,
and we fell apart like a worn sweater.

For fucking up again,

My words are erased out of my head
and bled out my heart.
That is what you do to me.

Hands clench against my sheets
and heat rushes into my face.
This is what you do to me.

Stripping me bare of the tough skin I've grown into,
destroying my frailties with a single word.

The ice in your voice trying to be covered by a faint dusting of care
can't fool me.
I'm no fool for you anymore.

I can fight against what you do to me.

For the good people out there,

These streets,
they lead in me in a direction
never known,
never quite what i expect.

The pavement slightly mists
as my feet keep moving me
on and on and on.

The lines dividing
one way
and the next
attracts me,
so I stand in the center
and as I look,
I don't know whether I'm looking forward or behind myself.

But with squinted eyes
and a knotted stomach
I see why this journey has kept me going
for such a long time.

And just seeing that one face
at the end of the road
reminds me it was all worth the while.

For stained shirts and teeth,

its not as easy as it seems,
you just like playing games with me.

i run
i twist
but you pull harder on my broken wrist

im back into your head
your into mine

and even with the fight im putting up
you find your own way
to surprise me

every minute
of every hour
of every day

we're back to where it all began

For the end of summer,

it seemed to never come
but its approaching
so i sat in the growing stale grass
and i awaited it

it crept upon my bare feet
and towards my bitten knees

i endured the chill i haven't felt in some time
savoring the ice on my steaming body

everyone knows what i speak
yet they release my white noise

they can read deeper if they tried,
they can read longer if they tried

while i awaited
i stood on my feet
and stepped onto a leaf

oh,
how i missed that sound of shattering veins
but its still too early

and it crunched softly at first
then made a sound
that resembled nothing
but the reflected rain on city streets

tough on the outside
but fragile once split open,

just like you and i.
just like you and i.

For some kind of magic,

you could melt the polar ice caps with the fire in your fingertips
letting the steaming water drip down
and singeing the skin.

you could move mountains with the weight you carry on your shoulders
and crashing down will come the remains of what you shatter,
piercing the skin.

the potential you have to destroy astounds me
taking me aback
and waiting too long to catch my breath again.

you could kill,
you could kill with what you have tucked so conspicuously
up your sleeve.

i'm on to you,
oh i am.
yet i'm caught in the middle of your game.

For the surprise ending,

two bodies entangle
desiring a connection,
resulting in distraction.
sweat drips
voices sound off the paper thin walls
and in between the sheets.

this will breed love,
this will breed love.

the skin itches to become one with the other
and the hearts pump red hot blood
into the mirrored chest.
eyes locked together
staring deep as possible in the shallow pupils.

this is only lust,
this is only lust.

For summer rain,

rain splashes against the window
and drips down my face.
how can i shiver
with such thick air surrounding me?
the winds have only blown for a few hours
yet i feel stuck in this moment,
the moment we fell through.
it's a little chilly
but i don't need your jacket.
i'll endure this storm on my own for a short while
and you can keep striking down like lightening.
this summer was dry since the start
so we'll let this water pour down
and dampen us to the roots.

For contortion,

It's been a while,
yet you're the itch i can't reach.
somewhere between my shoulder blades,
you gnaw deep down to the bone.
my arms twist and retort to touch the spot you've torn.
but i can't.
my back is breaking
against faded words
but i still hear them clear as day.
i fight.
i kick.
i scream with my remaining energy,
but it's gone.
mouth gaping open,
not a sound evaporates my clenched teeth.
you're so far gone,
your only inches behind me.

For those eyes,

they fall out of their sockets
bleeding out what they've wrongly perceived.
they never saw me for what i held behind the icy blue.
staring into mine, they failed to see the innocence.
i possessed no power to shut mine,
and neither did those,
those piercing emeralds.
maybe thats what made me blind to love.

For monotony,

i climb into bed
the soft summer rain dripping down the window.
as calm as the evening is
my head begins to fill.
thoughts race through my veins and out my skin.
over
and
over
and
over
the concrete smacks against my head.

For goodbye,

i can forget most of the time.
i can mute the sound of trumpets,
i can erase the words that once were spoken.
but sometimes, i can't.
i feel the thick autumn air get caught in my throat in the summer heat,
i taste the metallic kiss,
and i choke.
choke up on the months that are light years away,
yet slip through my fingers as if reliving them.
i've tried to hold on to these moments from a short lived happiness,
but my time has expired.
i reflect on days gone, and wonder where they have flown away to.
but now i understand that they've only tucked away deep inside me.
i can't shut out the rest of the world,
awaiting the chance to reconnect with my past.
i have to soar away,
spreading my wings with the strength i know i have packed inside my apprehensive body.
i can't forget,
but i can leave this mess in the past,
leave it locked away so tight that i can not relive,
but i can revisit.
i can't forget you,
but i can fly away.

For the unbreakable,

the man who never shed his skin, has diffused.
withering away to show the pain within, he cries.
the tears streak down, already diminishing the remaining burns.
the day he swore he'd never fall apart has arrived,
leaving him naked of all the walls he's built so thick.
someone warned the downfall, someone saw this coming.
but he didn't.
and just moments after the breakdown,
the one they never dreamt to see,
was gone.
and reconstructed were the walls,
and dried were the tears,
and gone, was the short lived visible heart.

For wasted words,

Why have I been running from you?
I ask myself this in my head as it lays against your chest.
I feel you beating into me, quickening my own pulse.
This simple thought brings heat to my face, I feel it visibly spreading.
I hope you see the smile stretching across my blushing skin.
I start to feel you in my stomach,
tickling my insides like I've swallowed a hundred feathers.
I'm so delicately choking on your breath.

For my consistant failure,

I am destruction
taking down everything around me.
I am spiraling
into your chest and splitting you down the middle.
I am breaking
what I've known into shards of broken bones.

For the red devil,

You are the root of my problems
growing askew and tangling my insides.
This is what it all comes down to,
this is when it all leaks out.

The pills were supposed to stop you,
you should be gone.
But you return
time and time again with a vengeance.

I kick, I scream, I groan in the agony you breed.
Leave my body,
and don't forget a fragment of your torture.
You'll rue the day you fucked this all up.

For nothing,

I just want to walk down that road again.
The one that kept on going and going and going.
And we kept repeating the words in our heads
so we could potentially sort them out.
Truth be to form,
it never made sense.
And that's why I'm still here hanging on a string.

For being oblivious,

i've turned numerous corners these days,
especially this one.
i didn't exactly want to,
my feet felt heavy with every step,
but i walked on.

i used to constantly stop at
every street sign,
every house i thought i knew,
every uneven crack in the sidewalk,
but this time i didn't.
instead of letting my apprehensive head get the best of me,
i let the leash attached to my dying dog direct me.

i've come to know these roads like the back of my hand,
a map inscripted into my pale bones.
i've never lost my way,
until this day.
and even past the point of confusion,
i kept picking up foot after foot,
knowing i would end up somewhere worthwhile.

my eyes were actually open,
and i saw the cloudless sky, fresh cut lawns, and bursting flowers for what they really were.
beauty that goes unnoticed,
each and everyday.
even the houses cried out to me for lack of being seen.

it's odd,
how you can know a place so well
and walk the pavement everyday for years
and still miss what's right in front of your face.

much has changed here over the time i've spent cooped up from the world.
new houses, replanted gardens, old neighbors who abandoned us,
but the roots, the roads, and i,
still reside here.

and yet i'm still wondering when i'll become as distinctly important as the trees sprouting upwards and the rain falling downwards.
i'm not controlled by fear today,
just curiousity of the oblivious.

my feet kept moving my body,
with no pattern,
similiarily to these words.
but fuck, i think i will miss my dog when she dies.

For my best friend,

on days like these,
i would disappear if it weren't for you and your love, like nails in my feet.
on days like yesterday,
when the little white tablets weren't enough to ease the nerves,
it was your hand on my back that put air back into my convulsing lungs.
on days like tomorrow,
i know i won't collapse because when i fall,
i don't land on the ground, i land in your comforting arms.
on that day,
those days,
ones like last month
and next week,
i have nowhere to look but aside.
you're right there,
ready to be my umbrella,
awaiting my voice to shake into a thank you.
and it's moments like those that put the air back into me,
the nails in my feet,
keeping me intact with it all.

For somebody I used to know.

red is his heart,
blue is his soul,
green is his eyes.

with his hands, fragile and bony, he creates the world on a fresh quilted canvas.
with every blink, his focused gaze captures snapshots of what he wishes to keep tucked under his skin.

what he sees, what he feels
leak out through his fingertips
in reds and blues and greens.

For missing the perfect moment,

blank sheet,
you're about as empty as my head these days.
i've been waiting for something to hit me like a knife in the back - maybe that'll spark some inspiration.
anything would help, but my minds been translucent.

an idea slips in one ear so swiftly, so unnoticed,
like an eager hummingbird secretly singing to be seen.
it floats around my brain, giving me that anticipated tingle that creeps down to my left hand, ready to pounce on paper.

but then it's gone,
short lived with no trace of ever being inside me at all.

i must've blinked too quick;
the hummingbird got away.

For a year in the making,

i dreamt your face,
when the harsh heat would get to my head at night.
we were so longing,
yet so simultaneously unavailable.
the rare exchange of weightless words kept us hanging on,
hoping on one day to spark a fire.

i recognized your face,
when the leaves had fallen beneath our nervous toes.
the innocence still existing,
lingering somewhere between our beating chests.
we tangled ourselves up in the exact knots we'd been waiting to tie.

i needed your face,
when the once lit fountain had frozen still.
we waited, we fought the time and distance.
but before envy green and piercing blue eyes met,
we began to thaw.
the insecurities leaked all over the empty pages and blank canvases.

i saw your face,
when the flowers bloomed as revealing as your hushed tones.
no words that escaped my gaping mouth could ever form forgiveness.
your sun was no shelter,
and no longer will it shine again on my rain drenched face.

another four seasons gone,
but one lessons been learned,
etched forever into my skin:
seeing really is believing.

For old faces making a new impact,

i've found you shattered on the ground,
heart beating in tune with mine.
impatient, detached, pondering.
you've showed me light at the end of the tunnel,
the tunnel of twirling secrets, and unkempt actions.
this may be an ugly road,
but i'm enduring it no longer alone.
a new breeze under my shaky steps,
a fresh push on my back.
support you i will,
as you follow the same path as i.
i just found a friend in one of those lies,
and truth in that friend.

For old habits taking a second chance,

April Eleventh.

It's 10:46 am and I've gotten back into coffee.
Fourth cup this week for the first time in months.
I'm not used to the jitters yet,
So I've got a latte stained hand and the table is dripping.
It's raining pretty hard,
Everyone's got busy schedueles,
But I don't worry.
The books are my friends,
The pens are the weapons in my shaky hands,
Fighting the blank pages.
I might be returning to old habits,
But I think its too early to tell.
My heads getting clogged,
With an unjustified reason.
Mix the caffeine,
Allergies,
Too little zoloft,
And I've got the sinus pressure of a writer getting through the block.
I'm chiseling it off,
Piece
By
Piece.
With rain; my favorite of all weather,
My reconnection with coffee,
My anticipation of the next slip to be saved by this very notebook,
and potentially my tiny Ativan,
I'm on my way to the core.

For my hypomania,

Voices resound from each side,
The quiet begins to overwhelm.

I.
Her ear is pressed to the crack between door and frame:
His hand slowly glides off the handle, back turned.

She waits for noise
He waits for silence.

Someone might be waiting to crawl towards the hole in his chest;
Someone might just want to pass through her.

Push and pull;
A hand grabs the doorknob
as the other jerks it back into their pocket.

II.
Maybe they could push open the heavy hearted door at the exact same moment,
but nothing will be on either side,
nothing ever is.
And if so, what purpose do
locks
and empty doorways,
and windows
serve?

III.
We put up walls,
since the idea of space in entirely too infinite.
We need to know boundaries,
need to feel protected,
which overrules our need to wander outside the lines.

If we know what is on the other side of our walls,
Why do we close up every inch of what we can see straight through?

IV.
She knows he's there, but not for long:
He knows she's not leaving.
What meaning can they infer from that,
From a bursting
Bleeding
Barely beating
Fragmented heart?

The wall can be three miles thick,
But the door will always be torn down by one simple breath.

V.
She inhales:
He exhales.

For the weathers control on us,

Stale branches stay still, glued to the air as the translucent breeze slips between the month old leaves.
The early march sun beats down so gently onto the melting snow piles.
Some touched by innocent animal footprints,
Some untouched, looking as pristine as they fell days before this.
The suns reflection off the white and soggy earth forces eyelids shut.
Something about the slightly warming breeze gives hope,
That a new season is just beneath the heaps of slush and frozen rose pedals.
It’s coming out;
Through the peaking patches of green and dripping lawn furniture.
We can almost taste the new air,
Brushing against our uncovered arms,
Giving us a chill that no longer sinks deep within.
It lingers ever so sweetly on our skin that has been thickening these past years,
Awaiting to peel away in the months to come.
A winter so cold calls out for a spring so warm.
And underneath these snowflakes
We reside;
Waiting for tomorrow’s morning to heat through these layers we’ve collected
Stripping us bare
Because isn’t that what yesterday is here for?
You can’t open your eyes to the sky when they’ve been closed to the ground.
We change with the seasons, and that’s the only constant that never falls out of line;
Because the clocks still tick,
The breeze still blows,
The sky still sweats,
You’re still you,
And I,
Still me.

For me,

i'm so proud to admit this to myself.
and i honestly don't care anymore about how everything turns out,
which ways i fall,
whether it be up or down.
because despite the quandary i've placed myself in,
i know one thing is still true.
and i'll stick to that feeling until the day it's last light flickers off.
i've watched my walls crumble down all due to my lack of strength to keep them in place.
because this one thing,
this constant feeling,
has not slipped out of line.
not once yet, after all these storms have knocked me over.
i won't let this fade away from my sight,
because the stars are still in my skies at night,
as are the clouds in my days.
i'd embrace this weakness with my head held high if i knew the reaction i expect would be the one i'd recieve.

For the one hundred and thirthieth day,

could you have ever guessed this,
that you'd be here, i'd be there,
yet we would be apart?
what's left of what we were is hidden by what we are.
these predicaments tied too many knots in our string,
we are so distant, so far.
you're parallel to the place i reside.
we've transitioned:
from the autumn skies that bred warmer fingertips,
to the brisk winter air that set our steps in a standstill;
transformed.
into the two people we never knew could be found.
they've surfaced from under our nerves,
from behind the doors we kept locked,
even from beneath our facades.
because somewhere along all these days of waking up to the sun,
and falling asleep to words never spoken,
something slipped;
like the cloth on a perfectly set table.
nothing shattered,
everything stayed intact,
yet the backbone was gone,
and all we are left with are pieces that will always be missing something.
but will that something always be missed?
can we make up for the clouds we didn't see fly by?
can we find more snowflakes to watch fall from the sky?
maybe not,
because maybe i've wronged us, this, you, and i
in ways that no glue can bring back together.
i have mistaken myself to be someone i believed had left and wouldn't return.
i've become more displaced than this poem could ever be.
confusion has never been so revealing,
never made such sense.
the butterflies are caught in my throat,
the words sit in my gut.
but i'll swallow the thoughts i've been choking on,
and spit them out to you.
i've lost.
i've lost this battle,
but mostly you.
and in essence, i've lost myself.
because you have opened the doors i didn't possess keys to.
because you have given me new eyes to see the world through.
but i've never reciprocated that,
and i'm here to let you know,
that i now know it.
i now see it.
i've never been there for you,
i've never been all that i ever aspired to be, for you.
so take away another three points,
and i've lost,
in the worst way possible.
i've lost,
and i never saw this coming.

For never forgetting,

i know i've been the star that lost it's luster,
the snow that lacked glimmer,
and the sentences that were barren of words.
i'm a road with no end,
and i wish you could turn around,
take the last exit.
i don't want to drown you in my rain,
so grab an umbrella,
and turn around.
i'll close my eyes,
for it would kill what's left of me to watch you leave.
but you need to.
i need me,
you need you.
we're not in eachothers skies anymore,
i've gone this way,
you've gone the other.
i don't know where you're headed,
and i'm not sure where i'll end up,
but a part of me you'll stay forever.

For windows,

if i don't scream in your direction,
will you turn to look through the other window?
i used to be that one,
the one you always watched the sunrise behind.
just beyond the ledge,
you can see the clouds that mingle together with spontaneity,
making perfect pictures in the skies,
perfect pictures like the ones we used to find together.
we breathed in the air,
watching our own exhaled clouds float up to where we wanted to be.
i think you might be there finally,
mixed up with the other clouds that i could never reach.
and in the midst of my lack of sleep and overdriven dreams,
i'm whispering outside your window,
behind the glass,
the lock,
the key,
unable to be heard.

For the storm i'm in,

the sky feels empty, even with clouds.
the sun isn't warm, even while beating down.
yet i'm cold, and translucent wherever i go.
your voice is the thunder that wakes me in a storm, and it's still ringing though the rain has passed.
i never thought i'd need an umbrella,
i had you to shield me from the dampening skies.
i'll still never dry if i were to spend countless days not thinking of the sun.
it's hard to decipher it just yet,
but the calm before the storm doesn't exist,
there's never going to be one when it's all rendered.
i don't want to hide from the storm if that means i'll stay from you.
but i can't find a cloud that's no longer gray.
maybe this lightening will untangle our winds,
but i've learned to not count on faulty weather predictions.
i can't see when this rain will stop,
but i know i'll be left jumping into the puddles of the next storm.
i'll still stand here waiting for the clouds to clear,
these raindrops just aren't falling into my hands.

For my bird,

the wind brushes against my skin,
a single chill goes down my spine.
i look up, hoping to find a cloud to cover the sun from burning my eyes.
no clouds,
just overwhelming light i want to run from.
the tips of trees glow,
the dew on the grass glistens.
as i sit under the shadow of a tree i think to myself,
the skies are so frightening,
i'll never be up there,
out there,
spreading my wings.
i close my eyes to hide from it all,
hoping to open them to a new sky.
to my surprise, i opened my eyes to a change.
i lost my breath and stumbled as i watched the most peculiar bird soar up past the trees and into the sky above me.
no fear was visible,
no doubt,
and no hesitation held it back.
i wished to be that bird,
i wished to have that tenacity.
i held out my hand to be it's perch,
and i stared so far into its eyes,
i saw you deep down inside the midst of piercing green.
you catch my breath for me,
since i'm unable to speak.
but instead of staying put,
you flew up into the sky.
it took me just a minute to realize why.
you fly so high, so proud, so strong;
everything i'm not.
i smile.
the skies can be so clear, you show me.
i don't need clouds to hide me,
i need you, to watch over me.
the first time i spread my wings,
you watch me.
i can be a bird,
i can be like you,
i can be for you.
you push me to the edge of my brances,
and off i go.