tbd

I can't turn away without looking too hard 

first 

maybe it's a case of seeing everything

at once

and 

I can't tell anything

from anything else

in the basement of 

the very first place

that I'd ever lived 

I spent my days 

Imagining 

what I would give

away 

to be somebody 

with 

another face

and all because I knew someone 

with bright blue eyes 

and

blonde hair

past her shoulders, I 

could

not

get 

past that, 

past, at

last, it brings me 

down. 

they're not my feelings.

All of the tiny little specks

like monsters in the air

lurking around you, there,

and I.

and I can't catch just one breath,

and I.

and I can't tell if you're inhaling

or exhaling,

But I-

wish that you wouldn't go back

to where you came from,

she's wonderful,

she's wonderful!

but I need you mooooooore.

It's Not Beautiful Now

Over the course of 

Twenty two years and a loss that seems like forever is,

coming on strong with the wind 

seems more ready than I

He took the fastest road

That he knew of to get me 

Back where I hailed from

I give but I don't give enough 

and I didn't give him anything

but watery blue eyes

and 

weak hands on 

the steering wheel 

of his white work truck

and I'd like to think that I'm better off without 

the dirt in my mouth,

but I am constantly raging and he is courageous just 

to take me out, 

of this place that isn't a 

home or a

house, or 

beautiful, now.

thanks, bio lab report that I didn't understand well enough to finish.

Oh, this chemistry is gruesome 

"glad we've got each other"

but once it's gone, 

once it's gone 

it'll be sudden like a 

rainstorm in the middle of july 

because we can't ever get it back 

to spend forever trying to 

figure out what we lack

ed 

and what all those tears were about that time

what produced those, 

heavy drops on risen cheek bones, 

something in the science that we rely on to get us 

from here to 

there

to

to 

together.

where washington meets commonwealth.

She's not here anymore 

She's not here anymore 

But the cars still go 

Alone most of the the time

Sunk low most of the time

But the cars still go 

And the people still walk by my small dim lit room 

Talking to each other and going to be somewhere

and whether or not they get there

The cars still go. 

And I can hear the volume in the next room over

I can hear the light on and I can feel the distance 

and it's just a little cold but

The cars still go. 

And the aching in my body lets my fingers know 

that the winters' running faster than my blood can flow. 

In another place I'm sure I've got a smile on, 

I can sense it just a little when the shades are drawn, 

heavy blankets on, 

but the cars still go. 

and the cars still go.  

all the time, right now.

it's the worst on the way down

like swallowing a brick and 

and without anything to wash it down with. 

Dry. And this is the first October that I can recall feeling so 

Dry. Today just started and kept going and it hasn't stopped 

and I'm so 

I'm so tired 

but 

my room is cold. 

It's freezing and I don't remember what it's like to be in love or how a rose smells, 

and 

and it's a stinging feeling, 

just to know that.

and it's all the time, 

right now. 

what it's like (pt 2)

AND SO IT BEGINS. 

the thickening of skin 

we are forced to live in runs too thin 

runs

too 

thin 

purple 

fingers 

a 

cold 

that 

lingers 

too long.