Probability in the Predicament

February stole the
words from my mouth.
March put on a mask,
vanished in the crowd.
Just like you.
Seems to be the way
things work 'round here.
I dissolve into the horizon.
Perhaps I'll stay lost
for a second of two.
Learn some new tricks
and play connect the dots.
Smoke and mirrors to
murder and magic.
No use trying to
win this round.
I'm holding all 52 cards.

Taste the Infinity.

Twenty-one colour negation
cannot meltdown
or translate
the simple
reverberations of
your smile.

The Sky(line) is Beautiful Tonight

I don't adore snapping fingers
or blown kisses or harsh words.
Not like I adore lilies or
"goodmorning, sunshine"s or
second chances.
I'm human too, most of the time.
Tell me to jump and
I'll say "goodbye."
Expectations escape me and
don't believe everything you hear.
Or see. Or touch, taste and smell.
Nothing personal, love, I'll
question it all.
The sound of the rain may still
make me cry but don't think
so much - you're not to blame.
I'll show you mine
if you show me yours first.
But battle scars don't impress me,
baby, everyone's got them.
Still, I like the sound of your voice
so, can you kiss my cheek,
tell me the story
one more time?

Stop Me if You've Heard This One Before...

I've been saying the same thing for years.
My tongue has memorized -
the stories -
have shaped themselves
to the roof of my mouth.
Haven't you heard this one before?
Recycling the same silly words
with an appealing spin.
Baby, Honey, Sweetheart.
Eventually my thesaurus will fail me.
Will redundant forms of
self-expression bring my demise?
That would be clever.
But I wouldn't stop.
Not even with all the answers.
I dont need a map to
cheat this game.
It is short enough,
without my help.
The alphabet doesn't lose it's beauty -
And sincerity is not lost
through repetition.
If anything, made stronger.
So, in case you missed it the first time,
I'll say it all again...
I am lost. I am chaos.
I am clarity and black coffee.
I am strong but I fall down.
I can swim.
Pretty baby, I am breathless
from the beauty of this life.
I am crushed. I am high.
I am yellow.
I am crossing my fingers and
I would do it all again,
not change a thing.
Fishlips and butterfly kisses,
broken, bent or bruised.
Scream a little louder.
Make somebody notice.
And it's the little things that will
always render me breathless.

Rome wasn't build in a day

and neither was this
magnificent mayhem.
Bruises are another story.
Materialize overnight.

Clarity in the Concise.

Dont cross your fingers
and dont hold your breath.
Dont you wish you knew
that years ago?
before that beating in
your chest grew so loud
that it was useless
keeping secrets?
an escape route from that
shimmering disappointment.
Some days I do and
some days I dont and
I will always wish on
that first star in the sky.
Whisper you my secrets,
now dont prove me wrong.
Turn out the lights and
forget the alarm.
I know your time is precious,
but all time is, sweetheart.
Dont use up all your excuses,
I might just shock you and
stick around a while.
Winter is almost over,
we could go for a drive.

and another thing

i wish i could tell you.
1. you make me feel like a stupid child. Which I prolly am.
melodrama does not suite me, but it's the way things feel.
2. At this point, I would do almost anything just for Aubrie to answer her phone. I wish i could be mad at her, but i'm just scared. Why am I even calling? The inevitable frustration, worry and sick feelings aren't enjoyable. Some may even say "unpleasant." But, I care Maybe too much? It is damn near ridiculous how much I base my actions and feelings off of other people's. I dont even know. One day it will finally sink in that no one is going to save me. Not mom or dad, not Becca, not Alex or laura or Aubrie, not therapists or friends or lovers or strangers. I have to do it myself. And i'm not quite sure where to begin.
3. I hate that I dont have the guts to tell you how much you hurt me.
4. I like you but I dont have the energy to be fucked with. So, no games. Unless it's Candy Land. Then, I'm in.

Lately feels like someone stole my life's road map and i'm lost and the sun is setting and i wanna kick the thief in the shins 'cause it wasnt a very polite. Except the thing is, I probably lost it. Along with my blue Contemporary Social Problems binder and my Hurley t-shirt. And probably some other stuff i havent realized I lost yet.
No. Here is the real problem. Things are too serious. College, friends, enemies, family, what i wanna be when i grow up, hell, what I wanna be tomorrow. It's too big and final and scary. (warning: immabout to sound like a intense hippie) I would be happy with a camera, a car, some music and friends. Like, real friends. That dont get (too) tired of my manic bullshit. What is all this about deciding on a Major and being grown-up and sending people to boarding school and no, half of my life didnt really happen because only shit like that happens in the movies. Not to me, silly.

unfinished : Honey Come Home.

All these words -
hopes, dreams,
secrets, whispers,
things i wish i'd said -
Swarm around my
head like
bees around their
honey home.
Couldn't stop them
even if I tried.
Pour it in a bottle
but it will burn your
fingers.
These silly bees dont
sleep. Not even when
I do.
You want to chase them
away for me?
I wouldnt either.
Might get stung.
Baby, I tried, i did.
but you needed steadier
footing and I needed to
cry a little longer.
Everything reminds me
of you.
Especially the honey (bees)

luminescence for the renegades.

We lit up the Southern Coast
well, not quite the coast,
but close.
The Tragic City got more than
it bargained for with
you and me, baby,
Sleep well, Sweetheart.
I flick the switch
but you continue to glow like
"This Little Light Of Mine"

my chaos and illusions are inevitable:

but don't worry, my love,
I'll teach you my ways.
Wash down our big dreams
and bad days with
Sunny D and pretty pills.