For lack of a better word.

Fall 2010

Butterflies are taking over my life.

 

"I can't write that s**t" became

"I can't write for s**t."

I used to be bold. somewhere along the line i forgot why

wish i could remember.

wish i could remember anything.

 

flip. new page.

entitled, "Things I'd like to remember."

back stratch noise attack in

the back of my mind

startling

five minutes wishing

flip. new page.

entitled, "Things I'd like to forget."

longer list

shorter list. much shorter list.

What was that first list again?

 

This poem was much better before I wrote it.

 

we should have done more,

but i had no idea

that's not completely true.

you're a gray area.

 

I stayed out late,

challenged my convictions

woke up early

made easier convictions, listening to you sing

"words are like fiber

music is the string

nature is the needle

piecing together everything"

 

another gray area.

 

one is a secret.

two is for truth.

three is a part of who you're supposed to be.

four are things you shouldnt do

five is your future

six isn't your fault at all

seven are all good things.

eight is compromise, or excuses to be bad.

nine is purity. a loss of blood.

ten is your destiny.

eleven is made of wishes

twelve is fate

thirteen was magic in your bloodstream,

until

until

 

I can predict the future with a bowl of jello

but i could never tell if friends give friends blowjobs.

 

what kind of human being

wouldnt even recognize itself as part of a species?

i know ten people off the top of my head

that never even go outside

 

I meant to write something else here

But I would rather that be something else, too.

 

So it's just me and you. you being no one and me being this entire backyard.

mice under the sandbox

a mother and her young

the father was being eaten by a snake

in the garden.

Author's Note

Can't remember if I already typed this up. Suiting, I guess.

Reviews

[Hedra Helix]

"back stratch noise attack in
the back of my mind
startling
five minutes wishing
flip. new page.

I stayed out late,
challenged my convictions
woke up early
made easier convictions, listening to you sing
"words are like fiber
music is the string
nature is the needle
piecing together everything"

mice under the sandbox
a mother and her young
the father was being eaten by a snake
in the garden."


you remind me I want to write poetry again. thats strength.

[An owl on the moon]

You give glimpses here that evoke so much emotion and angst. Each line seems to be a world in itself. Vivid and biting.