Monsters Meeting *

I'd like the skulls in my closet
And the demons in my head
To all get together
With the monsters under your bed
They can all share some stories
Maybe have a drink or two
And as they plan their great escape
We'll wave goodbye to them as they do

Circles Made of Squares

Tiny little boxes form in my brain
Sharp and rigid
They're ungraceful
And they move in clumsy patterns
I shut my eyes hard
   and change them into circles
As they change,
   the crows-feet loosen their grip on my face
With no sharp points to hurt myself on
   the circles lighten the blow
   when they all collide

Lovers In The Mud

After our days are done,
Once we're through wandering around on our own,
As soon as the bullshit subsides,
Nature takes over
   and her positives find my negatives
   and the pull drags us up
   and out of the mud
Face first
Teeth full of dirt
Smiling as big as ever

At School

There is a freshness to all of their faces
A new-car-scent type feeling that'll decay
I take note of those who's smiles fade first
And I welcome them to the otherside
I tell them not to worry though
Because their parents are probably already here
Unfortunately
Waiting for them

Charlie

I heard a dog trudging through my driveway this afternoon
I didn't see it, but I knew it was a dog and a pretty large one at that
I knew because I heard the distance and timing between each of his legs,
His hind legs more audible, with the jingling of a collar displaying his home and name
I guessed brass and steel but I'm probably wrong
I also guessed his name was Charlie, and he was a yellow lab, I imagined
Charlie didn't run though, or sniff around, he just walked right through
Like we lived in a railroad style apartment, on his way to wherever he was going
I wondered all day what he was up to and why he was doing it
I still am wondering where his end point was, or if he even had one at all
I hoped he didn't
And to be honest I'm a bit jealous

Writers or Thieves

I feel bad for whoever falls in love with me
or with anyone who writes of their lovers like they are some tool
that we can use to build a mountain of words to surround them with.
And we build just to show others, the audacity is sickening.
Like a saw we will cut you down, your words into pieces
and your secrets so small they slip into that grey area I call public domain.
We will take everything you do and display it for the masses.
If you're connected to my writing and I,
your life will become scrap paper marked in bad handwriting
and halfhearted, oft-forgotten lines as I drive in my car,
as if you were simply that easy to forget.
Each conversation we have I'll listen but not to you,
instead I'm listening for things to steal, to strip away from our dialogue.
I've stolen from everyone I've ever slept with and even more from those I've loved.
You never think about it while it's happening and you don't realize it until it's already done with.

Like Monsters

I love the scent of the inside of your lungs.
And while I picture it clinging to the fleshy walls of your insides,
as it reluctantly races for an escape,
I find myself envious of where it will end up.
Once it makes its way through your mint lips,
it could potentially travel anywhere it pleases.
I scramble to try and collect it all into my own lungs,
taking the deepest of breaths in until I feel lightheaded and see colors.
Breathing you in deep leaves me breathless somehow though.
Hunched over with fatigue and with quiet frustration,
over anyone who's lucky enough to breath in even the slightest of your scent,
I've become numb to sharing the majority of you but not this.
To me they are thieves and I make them out to be scary and forceful.
Like monsters but I fear nothing.

Happy Birthday.

To the woman I've never met but know almost everything about
Enjoy and celebrate, and take plenty of pictures
I'll never look at them, but someone's going to want to remember you
Just as you are right now

Beautiful with pin straight hair caught in the corners of your mint lips
Look beyond the camera and smile big
Focus on the point in the distance and try not to blink
You've been great at it for years, so I'm sure today is no different

Put something on you've been waiting to wear
Make sure he notices, he probably won't on his own
Stand tip-toed, one foot arched more than the other
Show off those legs in the best possible way

Each year on my birthday I blow out my candles to the West
I watch the smoke travel as far as it can go as it settles above me
For a brief moment I panic but then I remember there is no reason
The winds from the Atlantic hardly ever reach your boarder anyway

If you remember tonight though, just as someone clumsily carries a cake your way
Angle yourself to the East, stand facing home, and close your eyes
Make a wish that gives you chills when you think about it coming true
And wait as you feel the wind pick up from behind you and as candle smoke hits your face
Mother Nature has always been a sucker for romantics

If You Were To Write To Me

I'm sorry for holding the flame just close enough for you to constantly feel the heat.
And I'm sorry I slip sometimes and inch even closer to burn you.
I never thought the flame would have stayed lit for this long.
How could I have known?

I remember standing in that blizzard, watching it dim in the wind.
We were as sad as humanly possible while we assumed it would be out by morning.
The snow should have eaten the flame whole.
How could I have known?

A decade's worth of heat and ash and soot rests in our hands, but our fingers never touch.
Our hands have both become callused but mine for different reasons than yours.
The universe was telling you one thing and me another.
How could I have known?

There's this pain that rivals the loss of a family member and I've felt both recently.
It just doesn't seem fair. I know you would take it all away if you could.
I try to let myself understand but it's hard to do so while you've already taken so much.
How could I have known?

After the first few years the hurt became bearable, like it was just another part of life.
You weren't even fueling the fire. You weren't supposed to, I wouldn't let you.
The snow failed, the wind gave up, our hands were a fortress, a castle.
How could I have known?

You were the drawbridge and the walls, and I, the princess safely inside.
You took arrow after arrow, waiting it out while enemies and friends alike tried to lay siege to this castle.
I am sorry, but I am too terrified to scan your body, inside and out, for the marks and wounds that were inevitably my doing.
How could I have known?

Route 353

My car ride home tonight reminded me of you
The perfect temperature, not too hot, and with a breeze to boot
All four windows down, just letting it surround me
My body relaxed and breathing with the tempo
Of some beautiful song playing in the background
If you were here I'd be using your left hand as a cymbal
For my make believe drum set while I play along
To the same song singing us home
I'm driving with cruise control on
Every limb at ease
No need for breaks
Wherever I'm going it's in a straight line
If I were to get into an accident I would certainly survive
The way a drunk driver always lives through a crash
But I'd remain fine for far more romantic reasons
My speed remains steady
My eyes focused
And my lips reaching for the stars above
Your hair would be a mess
Flying recklessly with the wind
I'd love every second of it
While you try to wrangle each piece
As they slip right through your bone-thin fingers
The smoothest road I've ever driven
With the prettiest view I've ever seen
The route I took tonight reminds me of you

This Won't Hurt

Plant your feet and dig them into the dirt
Lower your shoulder and drive it straight into mine
Make me crumble, start on my left side
But I need you to promise that this won't hurt
I need you to lie and say that this won't hurt

Definition: Straight Line

Some years ago,
   when I was far braver and much less capable of love
      a hook set into my jaw.

Unaware of what it was entirely I tugged at it,
    yanked it from here to there without concern.
      My curiosity pulled the string attached until taught.

A straight line was in view,
   from my jaw to wherever that line was to lead me.
      And I would follow along for however long it took.

As time continued on, and the face of the clock laughed into mine,
   I thought I knew the definition of a straight line,
      the space in between point A and point B.

The line never curved left or right,
   but it rose, and it fell,
      so effortlessly in the passing winds of others trailing their own lines.
   
When the sun was perfectly still behind the clouds,
   just enough to see her radiate on her own,
      I would catch a glimpse of this beautifully slender but fierce figure holding tight the other end.

We waited and held with all our might,
   but we became tired, and she became fixated on these sights way beyond me.
      And I, without even knowing it, began to look right through her.

We'd never leave each others vision,
   but we let our eyes wander as far as they could,
      all along knowing we would never catch up to one another.

Older, wiser, and a bit torn at the seams,
   we still hold onto that line, that defines a path we could never truly grasp,
      in every sense of the word.

There is a love there that hardly fits into a neat and tidy box,
   one that, at times, may cross over to other lines,
    but one that will never fray and snap under the pressure.

It stretches. Further and more distant but still there.
   It is a bond that we have been laying at the feet of our enemies.
    And the breadcrumbs, just in case we ever need them to find home.

The tiny, powerful, and truly remarkable vision at the end of my line has never changed,  
   She taught me some years ago the true definition of a straight line,
      And the only thing that will change is the way we'll constantly redefine that definition.

In Bed, In the Morning Into the Afternoon

I whispered to my sheets while you slept,
Grab hold of this one, hold on tight.
Gently wrap yourself around her ankles and wrists.
Keep her warm and comfortable.

And I pleaded with my pillows,
Let her sleep in peace, 
remind her of nothing outside my bedroom door.
Become an ocean of comfort 
that cradles her head into the afternoon.

I cut a deal with the birds outside my window
If you just keep singing through morning, 
after the sun has packed its bags for the day, 
into the evening, maybe we won't hear our alarm clocks. 

The sun owed me a favor from a few years back,
Stretch your rays a bit further this morn.
Thread yourself in between my shades but keep away from her face
As badly as I'd like to watch her open her eyes, we mustn't wake her.

If you were to wake up now I would pretend I was asleep the entire time.
I would calculate my breathing to ensure we share the same breath,
and I would tighten my grip around your waist,
just barely but enough so you know where you belong.

Without Ever Opening My Eyes

In the morning I wake and I'm shivering
   The wind trapped between my house and the bay window makes a familiar sound  
It wakes me but the shivering keeps me awake
I listen to the birds outside and try to count how many there are
   just by listening to the chorus they were all singing
I never really knew if what they say about birds was true
  about how they can only hear the chirping of their own kind
Sometimes that just seems so sad to me
the way they all sung, like a choir together without ever knowing it

Listening closer still I can hear the sound of a chainsaw
   and it cuts right through me
Bringing my sunrise chorus to an abrupt end and replacing it with
the teeth of the chain as it rounds the blade and shreds through wood and bark
  and the sound of mother nature as she weeps for her early morning miracles
I feel bad for her and try to apologize for everything
   but that task is a daunting one and I am sleepy still

There's the hum of my ceiling fan that buzzes above me
   It gives my bedroom life, and acts as a net, wrangling all the sounds together
Like that faint hiss you can only get when a needle hits vinyl
   that warms it all up and holds you tight
The fan blades spin and provide the tempo with each rotation

The only other sound I can hear is of my own lungs
   as they fill up and deflate in perfectly awkward timing
On my inhale, with my eyes shut, I can hear the roll of waves getting ready to swallow a shore
   On my exhale, the sound as they blanket the sand and retreat back ever so stealthy
For a moment I'm standing on a beach right before sunrise and I cannot see a thing

I trick myself into thinking I can hear my heart knocking on my chest plate
   And I can't tell if it's asking to be let out or if it's trying to break out
It all makes me want to jump headfirst into the sky, the clouds seem quiet
   But for some reason I recall learning the opposite
In a small way, I hope they're louder than we all think
   So when I get up there they can drown out all the noise down here

New Roses

Even when your brain slips away
And it forgets every memory we made
I will write them all down for you
Even when your body is cold
And your veins stop racing
Even when your eyes glass over
And your skin no long radiates
Even if your hands can no longer grasp mine
I will try to keep you secure and warm
Even when your wrists stop vibrating
And your limbs become stones
Even when your lungs fail to rise 
I'll breathe for the two of us
Even after the worms take their share
Every inch of you will still belong to me
Even when you become the grass
And the roses bloom with your scent
Even as those roses wilt
And sink back into the ground
You will always belong to me

A Sun In The Top Left Corner of My Paper

I wish I could write as my 6 year old self.
I wonder what I would have to say.
I bet there would hardly be complaints.
Or talks of destroying myself.
Instead of lines declaring all of my fears and regrets,
I would write of my favorite color. Or colors.
Cause I never really could decide between blue and red.
I think I'd say, "Blue is my favorite color...
...and so is red, so I guess red is my favorite, but blue is too."
With daily struggles between whether or not to be
A fireman, or a lion, or maybe a pirate when I grew up,
I'd have no time to worry myself about the time.
And I definitely couldn't be bothered with loneliness.
I had toys and imaginary friends to keep me company.
And, albeit reluctant, a few tea parties to attend.
When I wasn't napping I'd be flying, and if I wasn't flying,
I'd be avoiding lava, or the bad guys that I swore were
RIGHT BEHIND ME!
Instead of checking my bank account each morning,
I'd check my treasure chest at the foot of my bed.
Making sure everything was in order;
1 Nolan Ryan baseball card. Check.
1 Forest green wall ball. Check.
3 Uniquely shaped rocks from the backyard. Check. Check. Check.
And 6 twenty-five-cent-machine super balls,
Worth AT LEAST ten kagillion dollars each.
Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.
If anything were askew I would remain calm and shrug it off.
All I had to do was check one of my super secret hiding spots.
Speaking of which, when I wanted to hide back then,
It was always coupled with counting to 10
And with the anticipation of being found by someone else.
For some reason though, that's not the case nowadays.
When I go to hide now, I want to be left alone,
With no red face from trying to keep my giggles in.
No childish fear of the person seeking you turning into a REAL LIFE MONSTER.
No one to burst out in laughter with once found.
It's just me, alone and forgetting to smile,
As well as every good reason as to why I should.
If my 6 year old self could write to me,
He'd probably remind me of my superpowers
And also to not use them all up at once,
Because well, superpowers run out sometimes.
I think he'd write, "I love you Mom" a few times.
And definitely a list or two of who my best friends are,
right next to a rundown of my favorite dinosaurs.
Most of all though, I hope there'd be this sun that I used to draw
In the top left corner of the paper with red and yellow and orange rays of sunshine
Hovering right above each colorful and waxy word.
I haven't drawn a sun in the top left corner of any paper in years,
And it's beginning to worry me that I can't remember when I decided that was no longer a necessity.

From Memory From Apple (v.2)

We waited but we were hardly sure what for.
You always seemed so preoccupied and unaware of my wandering.
My eyes, my brain, hands; you missed them all drifting from your hold.
I'll be the martyr because you failed to be the artery I needed.
Your lungs didn't work for the two of us, you were selfish with your inhale.
Your heart was alive but barely for you and I.
I began to digest such an awful concoction of chemicals that went unnoticed.
And I was taking in such a poisonous mix of smoke and the breath from whoever.
You missed every breath I took that didn't stem for your exhale.

Organ Donor

I am used, secondhand
My parts once had other plans
Sure they work just like they should
Just trying to work for something good

They were hardly ever yours
I'm missing pieces from before
Way before I knew your name
If you're here to help, you're far too late

I like to watch you lose your nerve
I like to watch you start to squirm
Like watching something pretty burn
I like to watch you lose your nerve

I've given up my heartbeat
Handed it out, all for free
The last one here took what was left
Didn't leave much for the rest

I close my eyes when I lie
So I can listen deep down inside
Just to hear if there's any sound
It's my own damn fault, it's all run out

I like to watch you lose your nerve
I like to watch you start to squirm
Like watching something pretty burn
I like to watch you lose your nerve

You Asked For This

I'm sorry, but you won't be joining the others.
I had to change the pattern up a bit and experiment a tinge.
There won't be any more discussion of you in the future.
You will remain in the past.
In my head, there will be no filing cabinet kept with your initials on it.
It will restore to it's previous settings, based on my time before you.
Any brief moment of weakness will be immediately followed by an extended moment of relief.

The Animal Inside

I'd like the animal inside of you to show it's face
Come out and tear away at my lungs, crack my ribcage
Watch the smoke escape like a prison break
Sink your claws into the meat of my thighs
Drag them up and through my eyes
Whatever you do, just make sure my love is blind

Blow My Mind To Pieces

You seep in and out of my life
Like smoke does in my lungs
You creep in and out of my mind
Like smoke from a loaded gun

But when you point your thumb and your finger
Against my temple
Be sure you have what it takes to pull the trigger

I want you to blow my mind
I want you to blow my mind
I want you to blow my mind
So pull the trigger

You were smiling behind my eyes
When my eyelids weighed a ton
You just pick and choose the nights
To remind me of what we've done

So when you point your thumb and your finger
Against my temple
Be sure you have what it takes to pull the trigger

I want you to blow my mind
I want you to blow my mind
I want you to blow my mind
So pull the trigger

I Want To Push Up Daisies With You

I want you to breathe in my last breath. And I will do the same for you.
And wherever our bodies fall, shoulder to shoulder, will be where we will be.
Our family and friends will stop their tears knowing it is what we wanted.

I want to push up daisies with you. Side by side, dirt everywhere.
And as my last request, I want my head turned towards you.
You look beautiful when you sleep so I'll want to spend eternity watching you.

I want roots to surround us and weave in and out of our ribcages.
And we'll wait while they braid us together as we rest forever.
The Earth will radiate heat from our graves and will give life to everything around us.

I want us to forget our old lives as we burst through the soil next to each other.
And we will sway in the wind, colors bursting from our limbs.
You'll make such an exquisite flower one day and I'll make for the luckiest.

You Know Damn Well

Grant me access to your patience
Give me the OK to take my time
Cause I'm not sure what comes next
I just know for now you're mine

I kick at the dirt while you wait
Looking down I feel much better
Cause I know if I look up
They'll be a change in the weather

And with that change, here comes the wind
And with the wind, it brings the rain
And once it rains, I'll hide away
Until the sun comes back to say

"You know damn well
There's not much I can do,
If you don't let
The rain wash over you"

Say I offered you a deal
One that's fair and rather even
One that changes your last name
A promise that I'm never leaving

We'll use our hands to build a home
One that fits more than few
One that shelters while we grow
All our love so fresh and true

We can be on the same team
And change it all from 'you and me'
To a simple 'us and we'
I'm hoping that you'll say to me,

"You know damn well,
Every storm that passes through
I'll always be
Standing in the rain with you."

When The Ocean Won't Listen

When the ocean won't listen and you lose your voice from shouting at it, I'll be waiting on the sand for you and we'll walk home together, defeated but together. When the ocean won't listen and it spits it's salty kiss at you, I'll lick every bit of salt from your wounds. And when the ocean won't listen but instead it's current grabs at your ankles, I'll be ready with a rope back on shore. I'll toss it around your waist and I will not let go. Scream all night, waist deep in the water, I will not let go. When the ocean won't listen and we've been up all night, let's not worry ourselves seasick. When the ocean won't listen and it's waves rock you to sleep, I will stay awake and keep the sharks at bay. And when the ocean won't listen and you're ready to go under, I will stuff our pockets with rocks and tie anchors to our ankles. When you're ready to go under, I will drown with you.

The Ocean Won't Listen

No matter how hard you try, when you throw yourself into the sea, your body won't let you drown without something to hold you down. I threw myself into the sea several times, and violently at that. I dug my hands deep into the sand and grabbed at every grain. Under my nails they were grabbing back but there's nothing you can do to fight the current. I was screaming the entire time, one of those screams you let out that scares yourself and it scares everyone around you. But there's never any sound under the water besides a muffled grumbling that surrounds you, and even if there was, the ocean wouldn't listen. I've tried, and several times at that. It was always your name I was screaming but this last time it came out sad and not scary and I'm so sorry about that. But I can't keep jumping into the ocean and playing chicken with the waves and I can't keep holding my breath just to see what happens. You no longer have the strength to keep me under the water and I don't want to drown with you anymore. I want to drown with someone else.

Dr. Mark, Dr. Chris, Dr. Luis

There's a small pocket of pain inside of my torso that cripples me from time to time.
It rests near my floating rib on the left side of my body.
It has been the only thing to remind me that I am human and cannot act as if otherwise.
Not even the shattering of a few bones slowed me down.
But a collection of x-rays pile up next to my bed and I am uneasy about it all.
I hold them up to the light to see the damage I've done but bones make me squeamish enough to faint.
I've passed out just 3 times, twice in the last year and I can't stand knowing doctors by their first name.
Whatever happened to the doctor-patient relationship where the white coat doesn't look me in the eye?
That's the kind of relationship I want with my doctor.
The type where he doesn't remember my name or the last time I saw him.

Specific Temperatures

I want you in my room. Really I do. And I know how that sounds. But it's not how it sounds.
I want you in my room but only because I'm tired of being cold. You've always been so warm to me.
A sheet, then a blanket, topped with a comforter does nothing but give me cold sweats.
Maybe I'm sick. Or maybe I'm just getting sick of shivering and sick of goosebumps all over my damn body.
Things get heavier than they really are when it's cold, especially when all the other birds already flew south.
I want to sweat to a new warmth. Or an old warmth. But a specific temperature.
And I want to seep in it with you. Let it find it's way through the layers of our skin.
Listen, I just don't want to enjoy too much without you. I want to tell stories with you and not to you.
I don't want to have one of those moments where we have to look at each other and say, "Where have you been? I've been waiting."
Just hurry up and get here. We're wasting our own damn time. And I know of a lot of good parties coming up.
We shouldn't show up alone. What will everyone think? And besides, there's food that will go to waste.

My Pretty

When I try to think while I write I tend to copy something I've already said before. Instead I just write and ignore the rules I've set for myself outside of this realm. This realm being a strange one but I am even stranger. Outside of my window smoke is constantly rising and with grace it breaks in and dances around my room. I've been told once or twice or never that I'm a good dancer, so I join in - but only I really know how awkward I feel the entire time. I always hope someone pretty is watching. Someone I only think is pretty, because I know what pretty is. And my pretty is not your pretty. And I'll always be grateful for that. My pretty erases my memory, she is generous but dangerous, and my pretty gives me purpose. Maybe in between the giants that roam around here, I'll clumsily bump into someone who never cared much for the dance either. 

Cavalier Gallant

Tiny and in charge, admirable guts
You shaped me, when I was clay
Pale skin, covered in marks of beauty
I was your paramour, you used me as you could
Delighted to be of help, I missed you though
Most of the time, after I snuck out
Wear all darks there, wear almost nothing here
Where was he even, where was I
Sorry about a lot, you were a favorite of mine
Don't mix pain with pleasure
But make sure you mix pleasure with pain
Snuck is not a word, you'll correct me eventually

Little Steps. Tiny Steps.

Little steps
Tiny steps
One handed
Right of course
Left out for about 30
Home for about only 8
Bones healing
Amongst other things
Talk all day
Talk but once a month
Heart pitter-patters 
Every time
Love from the start
Just on pause
Who knows
Unconcerned though
It was nice to meet you
Again

Tugging Away

This was some years ago, when we overlapped each other,
When she slipped her fingers in between the bone and the skin of my right hand.
Our nerves braided themselves together, our bones fused, our skin graft.
Joined together we roamed the tiny area we called home, making the locals jealous.
In time, in step, in love.
Inside though, I always wondered about the inevitable pain we'd have to deal with, and alone.
Nearly a half decade went by with us joined at the wrist.
Until all of sudden a constant tugging began.
At first it was manageable, the resistance was there but hardly anything to worry about.
I worried though.
We were being torn apart at the seams.
My skin would burn with pain, as I hoped my nerve endings were the only ones to feel it.
While she slept one night I tinkered with the wiring in our hands. I never wanted her to feel the pain.
We ended up slow dancing for months after, tip toes shuffling around the issue at hand. Our hands.
I recall perfectly the night I lost the top layer of skin off of my right hand.
I packed a car all while I ignored my wounds, being sure to lick hers.
It was some years ago, since we tore our hands apart, ripping the skin, severing the nerves.
Our bones broke, just loud enough to drown out the sound of our hearts breaking in the background. 
The healing process for such an injury has no timeline. I've been dealing with it ever since.
Every so often I'll experience what the medical world calls a ghost limb, but I know what it really is.
When she's lonely she'll grab for anything and each time my right hand feels her tugging away.
I will never be the same again, and I'm positive that I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Shrinking Ships

Pile on top and get comfortable with the rest of them, cause that's where you'll stay now.
You voluntarily jumped ship expecting a rescue raft to be thrown your way.
Has panic sunk in yet, as you watch the ship sail away?
It will become tiny, like the way you've been making me feel lately.
Your Plan B doesn't show face around here so who's to help you?
There was once a fleet that would kill at your will and I was lead.
Thank goodness you know how to swim though.
Cause there's no ladder or secret password to get back on board.
You're on your own once you jumped.
There is no getting used to that.

Voluntarily Insane

Like a surgeon with a scalpel
I'll take you apart just to see what happens
Put you back together, lose some pieces
To change the way your heart was beating

But there's something shaky about these hands
When I pick up the knife to begin
They always seem to turn the blade
Away from your heart, and toward my brain

It's like each time I split your chest
Something goes missing inside my head
A chunk of heart, for a slab of brain
The price I pay, voluntarily insane

Family Friends

I drove to her house trying to remember what her voice sounded like.
I've heard it a few times before but I wasn't wrapped into like I was now.
I forgot to wear cologne.
Her town, I know it well, was a bit bigger than mine, but mostly on paper.
You could walk from one end to the other without ruining your nice shoes.
I wore my nice shoes.
"You sure you don't want me to drive?", the first thing she said to me.
All-wheel drive just makes more sense in the snow.
I refused, as you'd expect.
The words left her lips but I did not recognize the tone. It was raspier than I'd remembered.
In fact, I don't remember it being raspy at all.
She laughed to herself and got into my car. She trusted something about me.
Our night began and ended on a positive note.
In fact, it didn't end at all actually.
Morning was comforting too. No hangover, no awkwardness, just two people wrapped up.
In fact, we were wrapped up, tangled, intertwined.
She couldn't stop giggling because of the six degrees of separation that hardly separated us.
"Girl, we gotta go, you're gonna be late."
"Boy, hit the snooze alarm one more time."
She buried her head into my chest, curls in my face, feet freezing.
We were shaking but we luckily had the open window to blame. 

A Sucker Throwing a Sucker Punch

Fitting, wouldn't you agree? A fool acting foolish, a sucker throwing a sucker punch.
Rest assured that neither her and I nor anyone else were shocked.
A clumsy turn of the corner, the stomping of your bulky feet-  just as the bell around the neck of the village idiot.
Declaring, "I'm here all! I'm here!"
The issue with that though is you put me on the map, put my dot on the radar.
You tossed the drunken spotlight that normally engulfs only you around the two of us.
Because I am an immediate threat, a force that could barrel through you. And you are aware.
It was a boy interacting with a man, and the man setting an example as the child pounded his balled up fists to his chest.
You are aware of my strengths and I am fully aware of your weaknesses, as are most others.
The effort level on my behalf is low solely out of respect, but respect that is slipping through your fingers due to your undeniable disgust towards me, undignified behavior, and childish antics.
I can spell 'chump' using just two letters and I can teach them all how to also.

Absolutely No Middle Ground

I've got one of those faces.
You know, the kind where there's no middle demographic.
People either see my face and want to break my eye socket,
or they see my face and want to sit on it.
Blessed with a full beard but less than perfect eyesight,
I've one dimple, two scars..that you can see, and a healthy head of hair.
People either see me and want to fight or they see me and want to fuck.
There's no middle ground to stand on with me.

The Title Is All We'd Know

I want to meet a girl that works at a bookstore but hates reading.
And I want her to lie about it to everyone but me.
She would have a favorite book picked out that she's never read,
quotes memorized just to make it that much more believable.
We would pretend we were the characters of a book we've never even skimmed through.
Each new day, another new book to fake. The title is all we'd know.

Dizzy

The clock held its hands low for the night
While the time difference was just an excuse
I pictured you smiling anyway

Bottled up love, bottle it up love
Let it brew and seep through the cracks
Bottled up love, bottle it up love
Let it brew and seep through the cracks

The rain is a hoax for just a few nights
Just the ones we choose, just as an excuse
Just surround yourself but keep smiling anyway
Just surround yourself but keep smiling anyway
Just surround yourself but keep that pretty face smiling 

Dizzy cause we're spun, spun or tangled
They're one in the same for the foolish
They're the same damn thing for the foolish

Don't fall down Dizzy - without taking me down too
Don't fall down Dizzy - without taking your fool

Fuzzy

I looked at her but there was something unclear.
She seemed blurry, even when I wiped the fingerprints from my glasses.
We had always just been so fuzzy.
It's like the picture we were drawing together curled at the edges.
And our lines never seemed to line up properly.
My left hand dragged across the paper and smeared each line she drew.
Once my hand finally settled and I began to draw,
she would unconsciously swat at it to change it's direction.
Without even knowing it though, we drew in opposite directions,
always promising to meet up somewhere down the line.
We're liars now. She lied to me. I lied to her.
We lied to maintain pace.
Next time I see her my eyes will try to adjust.
My pupils will expand grasping violently at the light she gives off.
Inside the nerves will sting the back of my eyelids.
But my eyelashes will become dislodged and float delicately into my line of view.
They know better. It's a defense mechanism.
A different type of discomfort to take my mind off the pain receptors that lead directly toward my chest.

At the knees

I sat down to write something beautiful, something profound and meaningful, but I noticed my shadow being projected on my new walls instead. My body hunched over a keyboard created the stencil of a defeated man. My fingers were waiting for my brain to make the call but I couldn't stop myself from thinking about your skin and bones. I mean, the way they fit so well on top of each other, I always marveled at the combination of the two. Both serving a different purpose while completely relying on the other, impossible to do alone. I remember the particular way that you would bend at the knees but not at the waist. Your skin would move ever so gracefully over your bones. I watched each time and each time I became envious. I wanted to move like that with you. Seamlessly, connected but on a different level. When people saw us move together they would feel as I felt when I watched your body work flawlessly..in complete amazement. We were much the same some time ago. I relied on you to keep my instabilities stable and I relied on you to be my anchor so I would not float away. And I was anything you needed, your lungs, a hand, a polite reminder so you remember that not everything is going to work as easily as we had hoped. This wanderers life I've been leading brings me in circles and to places that are sometimes terrifying but amazing. Each time though, that I'm standing there shaking out of fear and buzzing with excitement, I think of you and how I would have loved to be standing there frightened, frozen, and eager with you. I can't remember what was meant to be written here at the start, I just remember feeling like I was supposed to write some wrongs, or right some wrongs. I don't even know any longer. I sat down to write something beautiful, but I forgotten how to do things like that.

My Father's Train

If I knew then, what I know now
I would've kept smiling with my head in the clouds
If I lived now, how I lived then
I'd be a happier man than most men

I've spent the better half of a decade
Being told about all of my mistakes
Living life with a constant headache
Just to figure out how to graduate

Now a years gone by since I walked the plank
Got on a train that has no breaks
With the rest of a country that's so irate
When all I wanna do is create

If I knew then, what I know now
I would've kept smiling with my head in the clouds
If I lived now, how I lived then
I'd be a happier man than most men

Happy Birthday ±

I can't remember your birthday, but I think that's a good thing
It's either today or maybe 2 days from today, or 2 days ago
Regardless though, it doesn't matter anymore
Your age means nothing
Your name it's irrelevant
Your face is a stranger's face
If today is the day though I hope it's a great one, I guess
But only because you've had a rough year
With only a handful of times that we see eye to eye I want to take this time to act like adults
We'll say, "How do you do?!" and "How's the family?!"
But I already know the answer to that, I'm sorry
You'll ask me about mine but won't really care either way
I always wonder about your brother more so than you actually
I hope that he stays left instead of turning right like you did
November will come quickly,
We'll shuffle into a dingy part of town with everyone we tried to forget
Standing shoulder to shoulder all throwing our pennies violently to quench our thirst,
But more so our curiosity 
I'll walk around maneuvering through idiotic conversations and awkward greetings, pretending not to look for you and you'll do the same
I promise to be nice this time
I promise I'll lie to you

Cover Your Tracks (Whisper While Reading)

There's a fire going out in the distance
I smell it but I can barely see it
The wind carried the smoke and it's filled with deception and dead cedar
It stings my nostrils but I can't get enough
It feels like gasoline and it's becoming addicting
I take a deep breath and hold it in
Dizzy, lightheaded, high -
I can't remember which way I was traveling
So I just keep walking, following the smoke
But it feels like I'm following a ghost
Stumbling forward, with someone surrounding me
I won't reach the fire tonight but I'll make a dent in the trek
And the morning to follow I will do the same
Breathe, follow, stumble forward
Until I reach the smoldering embers
So I can exhale the gasoline inside my lungs
And ignite the entire forest behind me

Without an E

Listen, grab a glass of water
There's a pill that's going to get caught deep inside your throat
Consider that warning my only attempt at being civil, but don't expect it again
Right now I bet your airways are clear and air is flowing freely in and out of your lungs
Oxygen is reaching your brain in the same way it does each and every day
In a few weeks, or a month or two tops, you're going to begin to suffocate
An emblematic pillow held by the hand of her past
That's all I can tell you, simply because that's all I know
It could come as a swift bubble in your bloodstream, traveling one way to your brain
Or perhaps a swelling of your throat that could take days before you feel a thing
All I know...all we know is that it's partially self-inflicted
Oblivious to the fact that you're appeal has lowered
Unaware of the wandering eyes attached to your lovers spotted face
Not to mention how much talking her fingers do
Either way, you will soon be uncomfortable
Uneasy, you will lack sleep, and you will lose something that was hardly yours in the first place
This is a fair warning from the last person you'd expect it from

A Cello

The cello is writing this
As I sit here
The cello is writing about
What aches it's sweet sound
It bellows out these beautiful cries that shake me
It makes me feel like there is someone right behind me
Citronella and a cello
A few cracks of twigs and leaves
It makes me hear bones breaking instead
Smoke and a cello
Hello Night to be exact
It makes me yearn for a strange feeling
Like the one you get when a wish comes true
Ringing and a cello
We claim to be three sheets to the wind
It makes me think of a old sailor and his drunken ship
The cello speaks different now
As I sit here

If The World Ends This Saturday

If the world ends this Saturday I will not worry myself with floating up or sinking down
If it ends before I wake up than even better

If the world implodes in on itself this coming Saturday I hope I'm standing next to someone I love
If it ends while we're dancing even better

If the world begins to evaporate into thin air I hope it takes you just before me so I can inhale you seconds before I burst into dust

If the world ends this Saturday in a slow and painful way I will not hesitate to poison us both with a venom that kills instantly

It it ends with me here and you there then I will shut my eyes to pretend there is here and here is there

If the world ends this coming Saturday I will be surprised and I will be proven wrong and I will feel cheated out of a life that I have yet to live the way I want

But if the world ends and I had the chance to sing my songs, right my wrongs and love like I was dying anyway
Then if the world ends this Saturday I will go with it smiling ear to ear

Sea Legs

I'm standing on a waterbed
Balancing my composure and my weight
Practicing my lines and my poker face
You taught me a fortune's worth of patience
But destroyed me with continual maintenance
There is an onslaught of weapons
Tucked away inside your coat
I wish it were me and not you
But it's not, so cut me to ribbons
Blow holes through my chest
Dismantle my bones and burn whatever's left
Break my sea legs and let me sink in

Three Legged Race

I want them to sew our hands together
And I want our ankles bound by twine

Each morning we'd wake I would be just fine
If every step that you'd take would be the same as mine

The lines of your palms would begin when mine stopped
And with our fingers entangled we would define the word locked

At first we would trip and stumble to keep pace
But I would cherish each step of our three legged race

But our hands are not sewn and our ankles not tied
No matter how many times I asked or I tried

The lines on our palms and our fingers don't match
Cause the love that I give I never get back

The University Of

A life on pause
As I sit and create a divot in the Earth
I create no dent in my debt
Twenty years nose first in a book
But not one day spent being prepared for the harsh truth
The doctors and the adjuncts hand me my grades
The dean hands me a $50,000 piece of paper
Some woman named Sallie Mae hands me the bill
Like an overstocked product I remain on the shelf
As the suits and white coats pass me up
So what's the answer
Spend more money
Get a certified certificate to certify that I'm finally worthy of your time
When my child is born I will lay no path for him
I will tell him no piece of paper will make him who he is
And he will be happier and more successful than I

In A Clover Patch You Will Signal To Me

Bury your hands in the dirt with me
Grab a hold of any roots you can get a grip of
Hold onto them as tightly as you can
The next step is the hardest to grasp though
We are going to be torn apart from each other
As the roots grow we will be separated by great lengths
Underneath our nails will be filled with dirt
Our hold on the roots will be saturated with sweat
Do not let go
Soon our bodies will be engulfed by dirt
And our breathing will be slowed to a crawl
Underneath the earth will be where our love is hidden
Listen closely through the muffled mud
I will be screaming to you, "I am sorry! This will not last much longer!"
I know that you trusted in me and buried yourself alive with me
I cannot tell you when we will be able to resurface
But I will dig my way out and I will come after you
I will search in the clover patch

Smiling Without Breathing

I hate to be the bearer of bad news,
but it seems as though I've forgotten
how to exhale. I took a breath and breathed
you in and there you've been since.
I'm sure that if I were to remember
how to let out my lungs, my breath would
smell of your sweetest scents. The walls of my
lungs begin to heal with every touch from
your finger tips. I blame it on your
insatiable, unconscious desire to cure,
you'll tell me you're just trying to warm your
hands. My cheeks become flush with reds and pinks
at first. They expand to hold you in longer
forcing my ears to pop. Everything sounds
like we're underwater now, and that's how
it feels too, when you forget how to let go
of the air inside. Sometimes there are a few
sharp pains piercing through my cheeks,
up to my temple, and they end up in my brain,
sending signals through every nerve in my body,
urging me to exhale. But most of the time,
I'm happy to turn blue for you.

Here is a Body

Here is a body to destroy
A body you care little about
I would hardly call you such a thing
You are more like a miscalculation of flesh and blood and genes
Nobody made you
You just happened to fall out, out of luck
And that luck should have run out years ago

How dare you believe someone sculpted you
Leonardo on his worst day wouldn't have sculpted a creature of your sort
A vile, and sadly confused creature like yourself deserves not much
And we are of no resemblance, our one similarity urges me to tear your limbs off for what you did
The scar I left, I've vowed to fix, and I will
Your scar is putrid and permanent, left on someone hardly deserving

I want nothing more than a relapse for you
Your cold body is hardly a home for anyone, you cannot protect her
As she follows the tracks up your arm she will remember me
My clean body, clear head, and she will recall whose arms she belongs tucked under
Inside of you there is a multitude of diseases that seep out of your pores, quietly dissolving your muscles, splintering your bones, drenching your skin with toxins
It is slowly killing you
I pray for a speedy demise to get you out of the way

My hands shake as I search for the words to illustrate what you are
You are the dregs of society, an infected young man with a dormant addiction
I would do nearly anything to wake that beast
But so help me, if you bring her down with you, I will find you and I will kill you

When The Wheels Fell Off

The imprint we left on the pavement in my hometown,
when the wheels fell off, was small in size but colossal in every other way

We couldn't have seen it coming, the sound was deafening, and we were lucky enough
to have stopped when we did instead of going dangerously further

The weight on the passenger side of the car must have been too much
and that was my fault, the symbolism could have choked the crowd that was gathering

A sight to see for a small town and we were on display, a concrete catwalk and we were unclothed, you should have never been put in that position

There's a divot, a pothole, that sits there now, it doesn't get any smaller but it grows every so often when something touches it, and my skin is starting to feel like pavement

With Your Best Friends Standing On The Back Of Your Head

I'm laying face down in the water next to a friend of mine, while two sets of feet press down on the back of our heads. Every once in a while I can see a third pair of feet standing near but not taking part. We are being forced to drink. For the longest time I was so thirsty, so eager to fill up on the same water I'm drowning in. I would have drank until my stomach burst because I've had a taste and it was everything I ever dreamed of, up until recently that is. You see, you may be curious as to why I'm not putting up much of a fight this time around. Well, this time around it seems I've lost my will to fight. I'm not even struggling. The worst part is watching my friend next to me as he flails about, trying so hard to get back up and dry himself off. I hold his shoulders down with my one free hand so it's quicker. It's a shame that the taste in my mouth was once so much sweeter but now it's sour and bitter. From underneath the water I can hear the voice of a past lover quietly saying, "I told you so" over and over again. She was right, she always was but I was too stubborn to come to terms with it. She is of no help now as I breathe in more water. I never wanted to be drowned by my best friends but they have no idea they're even doing it. I shake the hands of those standing on me and around me, as well as the cold still hand of my poor naive friend laying to the right of me as I lie to them all and tell them, "No hard feelings."

Traffic On Some Rural Road Up North

I love your pretty little tongue and every way you use it
I love how you quietly sing your terrible indie music
There's just something in the way that you say my name
That makes me want you to state it
Everyday, every night, in every single sentence that you say

I love the single firework going off above our heads
I love the sound of the explosion just before it ends
There's just something in the way you say you and I
That makes me happy enough to die
Everyday, every night, in every single contently deadly way

Untitled

Writers block is a very awkward shape to carry

Rough Diamond

I liked you better as a brunette
Even though I'm more partial to blondes and redheads
You were definitely much better off a brunette
Trapped inside of a city you hate
The same city you can walk right out of
But you're trapped
Inside your tiny little world of fire escapes
Grungy warehouse parties and PBR
You claim it's the best years of your life
But you haven't tried your tongue at anything other than a big dirty apple

1965 Dreamin'

There's a tiny rip in the Bob Dylan poster hanging above my head
But you would never know it
I fixed it up nice and clean like
It was torn due to excitement and a lack of patience
From a far it looks seamless, unscathed
Up close though it is unperfect, imperfect
It has a blemish and one that I did my best to fix
I'm covered in tape from the repairs I've made
But it's getting so tight I feel my blood can't circulate

Itty Bitty Living Space

What's it like living inside my head?
Inside my brain,
you sit with your hands around your knees
Tangling yourself up in strings
Pull them gently and I wander
Pull them with anger and I stay put
Ain't it a shame how much time
You waste
Sure, I'll share this space,
Inside my head
But I won't concern myself
When you start fussing around up there
I bet you were trying to tell me something
Knocking on my skull every morning
I heard you
But I also heard you cast a shadow too tall
And I'm only 5 foot 6 on a good day
You must be a lot smaller than I had once thought
I pray it's comfortable up inside my brain
Cause I know myself well enough and I know you
And I know how these things work
And chances are you're not going anywhere

To Me Love You; To You Love Me

Don't say all the time and never say always
If you have to get jealous, try not to show it
Try to understand that getting done up doesn't mean I'm getting done
Try to remember that when I go out, I'll always be coming home
You have to take the good with the bad and I do too
You gotta trust me when I say I'm yours and I will trust you
Keep in mind that a fight isn't an argument and an argument isn't a fight
But both are necessary for us to survive
Know that I won't always like what you have to say
But know that I'll respect you either way
Promise me if you ever feel sad about you and I that you'll speak up and speak your mind
And I'll promise the same because I want you as mine
Above all else, remember how I make you feel late at night
And above all else, we'll do our best to keep up with you and I

With an E

I hope you know who I am and I hope you know what you lost
I keep playing this scenario over and over again in my head
Where I see you and you see me and we don't say a word
But we speak volumes to each other
You're mistakes pile up and although I'm no saint, you are scum

I feel the bubbles begin to form inside my blood
Heat takes over my body and I don't care how many inches you add up to
I would ruin you if the chance came my way

I feel my skin crawl knowing that you've touched what is mine
The teeth inside my mouth grind back and forth and I can taste hate
I would ruin you if the chance came my way

It makes me sick knowing we've done similar things to hurt a heart so true
It makes me sick being compared to you
I threw up a little bit while I was writing this
It tasted like pride and I swallowed it down
I hope you choke on yours

King Dharma

I stopped reading secrets on Sundays
A little too close to home
They poke at my ribs and remind me of things
You know how sensitive the sides of my torso are
I'm far too ticklish for my own good and for you
My body tenses up when you drag your nails
Along the way I giggled

Your ribs surround a concave chest
Inside is a beat up heart that tried its best
Bruised and battered but beating nonetheless
It deserves to start fresh

The last secret I read made me cry
I bet it made you cry too but for different reasons
I wrote my secret down on a piece of fabric stolen from a peaceful place
The irony draped over my shoulders like a robe
And I was already wearing the crown

It's not

I can’t picture you laughing
I can picture a lot of people in my life laughing
But for some reason I can’t see it with you
Barely even a smile comes to mind

When I try, your face turns into someone else’s
Your hair changes color
Your jaw line becomes different
Everything about you transforms into somebody else
A person who is happy and content, with less opinions

When I see you and you smile or laugh
It feels awkward and forced
I thought it was just me
But it’s not...it’s you

Who Do You Think About

Who do you think about when you listen to songs
Inside your car
Who do you miss when you're hearts showing scars
Inside your car
We should fix what these hands did wrong

Who do you think about when you smoke
All alone it shows
When there's a whole other world at home
All alone it shows
It shows when the weight of the world takes its toll

For such a small town
It feels so big when you're around
We can blame it on the weather
But things are starting to look better
When the clouds all start to clear
I'm here

Who do you think about when you watch your favorite shows
Sitting so still on your own
Who do you think about when no one needs to know
Sitting so still on your own
That's when your eyes start to grow

Who do you think about when you're underneath your sheets
When the day gets too heavy
Who do you think about when you really feel the need
When the day gets too heavy
That's when I finally feel the heat

For such a small town
It feels so big when you're around
We can blame it on the weather
But things are starting to look better
When the clouds all start to clear
I'm here

For such a small town
It feels so big when you're around
We can blame it on the weather
But things are starting to look better
When the clouds all start to clear
I'll be here

A Dead Man's Designer Suit

I would look great in a dead man's designer suit
It would fit me in all the right places and I'd make it good as new
The inseam would fall perfectly, the pants would need no cuffing
My chest would fill it out without a doubt

I would look great in a dead man's designer suit
But it would wear me just as well
Tight around my neck and wrists, but still just right
My bet is that it would wear me out

When I'm gone I don't want to have to worry about what I'm wearing
But I want to look great for a dead man
When I die I want to be buried in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt
So no one can steal my designer suit

Above All Else

A lapse of judgment I'd call it
Cause you can't take everything you read seriously
It's not like you don't overpopulate my dreams
I'm still human above all else

I've climbed a mountain to get to you
It was cold and lonely and each time I made it to the summit
You went and added a few more thousand feet to my assent
I did it with a smile on above all else

Test after test I whistled through them
Each mess I created I sifted through them
A virus inside me is all I have left of you
I go sleepless and hungry without complaint above all else

As I lace up my boots to begin my climb
I grab a picture of you to keep in mind
Why I'm patient this entire time
I can't stop until you're mine above all else

Less Than 3 Months To Go

Love through a wire is on display for all to see
It's a rock climb through states
While we're fully relying on satellites
Throwing all our faith into a keyboard

I beg the operator to hear me calling
Push all the right buttons
Cross all the right cables
Cause through the wire I'm falling
Without the bells and whistles
We do our best to listen

I'm holding you to all the plans we've been making
I'm hoping it's a good sign when your legs are shaking
Cause it's a good sign when you're next to me while I'm waking

A Constant Knocking

You’re making this easy for me, erasing yourself I mean
My memory is terrible as is without being reminded to forget
Inside my brain there is a stockpile of doors,
Lined up neatly because I wouldn’t have it any other way

Most are closed
Some get blown open by the wind that sneaks in through my ears
A couple of them have a window in them
There's also a row that I've never even opened

Most are locked
Some squeak so much that I have to jam them shut and board them up
A few won't open even if I tried
There are some that slam in my face as soon as they open

If you could walk down the corridors of my brain you would understand
You would see each door has a name carved into it, so delicately
And some that you would swear a monster was hiding behind,
Ready to tear you apart as soon as you touch the doorknob

But there's also a select few that that have managed to get their hands on a doorstop
These doors remain open, never locked
Knocking back and forth against the walls of my heads

All I'm asking you to do, as you scan the halls,
With knife in hand, is please,
Please pick the right door

Ladybug

I want you to know something
or some things,
I want you to know that I'll see you again
I do anyway, just not in reality
As I cocoon myself in blankets I feel something next to me
I've always hated having my face covered
but out of fear that it isn't you outside my fabric cave
I remain underneath

The thought of running out of air while inside always crosses my mind
So I cheat a little and allow for a small hole to let in the cold air
A tiny space between my blanket and the sheets,
too small for anything to peak but big enough for a ladybug to squeeze,
to keep me company whenever she pleased

But the truth of the matter is that it's winter
and there are 6 inches of snow on the ground
And I haven't seen an insect in months
I'm really beginning to miss the spring,
among other things

Roulette By Night

I call it roulette by night,
Let me explain..
Every now and again,
Unknowingly,
You slip into my dreams
You come and go,
just as you please,
And although they are becoming few and far between
I'd appreciate it if you'd leave it to the sheep

The Boy With A Camera In His Eye

When he looks at her he sees her in at least 3x5, 12 megapixel, perfect lighting
It's not his fault tho
He's just programmed that way

He tries a bit harder, which is obvious, and his intentions are opposite of mine
It's not his fault tho
He's just programmed that way


The boy with a camera in his eye is pointing his shot directly at the apple in mine
Even as neutrals tho, my blood will boil each time I hear a click or see a flash go off


When I look at her I see her as warmth, guiding me, but without artificial light
I do not need a blinding glare to find her in the dark
I use her glow instead

I've faulted and faulted again, which is obvious, but my intentions have remained
It was never about just her or just I
We've just been programmed this way


The boy with a camera in his eye is pointing his shot directly at the apple in mine
Even as neutrals tho, my blood will boil each time I hear a click or see a flash go off

The boy with a camera in his eye is only doing what he loves
However, so am I

A Bad Morning

I had a brief conversation with my stomach this morning.

In between the painful grumbles and growls,
it mentioned a few things about changing a few things.
You know, for the better of both of us.

We didn't know it but we had a lot more in common than we had ever realized before.
We both felt empty a good portion of the time,
nausea brought us to our knees,
and neither of us were any good at untying knots or bug catching.

I listened as I laid in bed
and as I tried to understand what it meant,
I got lost in the volume of my own head.

I need to start eating better I guess.

Tearing Up

I had this dream where you and I tore each other apart
I had found a loose thread hanging from your seams, and persisted to fuss with it until you came all undone
I was gentle but did not understand what I was doing and I became tangled in each strand that fell
You searched for a way to start a small rip somewhere, along my torso maybe
I saw you ask yourself where the best place to start would be
We took turns clawing at each other, picking at pieces we thought would sting most
We made sure our eyes were the last to go, so we could watch each other work
When we were almost down to nothing, I looked at you and tried to spell out "I'm sorry" with blinks and winks
You began to tear up, and your eyes looked angry but so sad
I'm sure things could have been different

I remember that we couldn't finish what we intended to do
I remember that we couldn't leave ourselves in a pile next to each other
I remember trying to patch myself back together
I'm sure I was missing pieces, but as long as I could gather you up and mend you together, I knew that you could fill the pieces I was missing

The next night I had another dream, where you and I told each other everything
We stayed up all night talking about your favorite color and my favorite band,
how you wanted to change the country and about things that I can't stand

I remember laying on my bed with your legs around my waist
I remember pretending I was dead so you would have to hold my weight
I remember your hands on my torso and the look that was on your face

Butterfly Belly

I stuck a net down my throat to catch all the butterflies
bouncing off the walls of my stomach

I put them in a jar and wrote your name on it
The jar sits on my top shelf for everyone to see

Sometimes a few escape and quickly make their way down my windpipe, back into my belly
They multiply once they're inside and I go get my net again
The jar is getting crowded recently but I don't think they mind
I heard butterflies like staying together anyway

If I were one I would fly next to you and try to keep up
and I would hope that the butterfly version of you would stop her wings
just so we can fly in sync

There's now a second jar that sits on my top shelf
This one is smaller but it fits two comfortably
I took a permanent marker and wrote our names on it
One right next to the other

Just a Stain

He is a paper cut, and an annoyance to her
and he sits gently on the webbing between her fingers.

She has a picking problem too,
especially when it comes to her hands.

He recites quotes from movies like Good Will Hunting and American Beauty,
but he screws them up on purpose so they seem like his own.

She steals lines from her friends when they least suspect it
and turns them into beautiful poems.

Together though, they have this dance that they trip through
that only feels elegant to them.

Everyone else dances around them in sync. No one ever looks directly at them
because they both have too much clout in this redundant town.

She thinks she's leading but then he drags her hand through a pile of salt.
She will dance with others yet he is the only one that still steals.
She has had deeper wounds yet he is the only one that won't heal.

It's beginning to rot now,
and nobody likes the smell either.

I stand at a safe distance
and watch the lesion that he is grow in size.

Pieces of flesh are left where ever they sit,
as they discuss the world and how they'll change it.

He scabs up and she picks at it
leaving the room a mess.
I tell everyone to ignore them
simply because we all know
it's just a pissing contest.

Cold Wet Bones

You are not here... in the future I mean.
You're not here now and you won't be here then.
You were around in the past but barely at times.
I was around at all times.
You don't look very brave when I talk to you.
You think bravery comes from standing against the horizon
while the waves are speeding towards you.
You, with your arms out and your head hanging low, knee deep in the saltwater.
You never looked like someone to crucify but we're the only ones here most of the time.
My arms don't hang as nicely as yours either.
My head doesn't weigh down on my chest.
You don't look very brave when I see you.
You think bravery is screaming angry words at the snow covered mountains
instigating an avalanche.
I think bravery is standing next to you, who is quicker than the waves and colder than the snow.

Silly Blunders

She sat sitting indian style with her chin resting in her hands. You could tell how involved she was in the crossword puzzle she tore out of the morning newspaper.

It was the only reason she ever bought a newspaper.

I pretended to get dressed, read email, change the light bulb that's been out for a few months now, but I was only wasting time to keep looking at her. I thought she had caught me at one point, and I'm not saying that I wasn't allowed to look at her...I just didn't want her to know how involved I was in her so soon.

"6 down, Consider an imaginary animal? Three words, letters are 4,2,4. Any ideas?"

I didn't understand the question but only because I was caught off guard.

She said it again, verbatim, "Crossword puzzle, Chris. 6 down, Consider an imaginary animal? Three words, letters are 4,2,4," but this time she said it with comedic impatience.

I asked, "Oh, well...do we have any letters helping us out?"

She motioned for me to come sit next to her on the hardwood floor. We meant to carpet it but we just never really got around to it.

She pointed to the puzzle to show me the letters, "I have a B, an R, and a D."

B _ _ R
_ _
_ _ _ D

The missing letters kind of seemed to fill themselves in for me.

"Consider an imaginary animal. Bear..in..mind. Bear in mind."

I'm not really sure why but it wasn't very hard for me to figure out the clue. I just assumed it was a lucky guess.

She held in a smile and wrote in the letters as she moved onto the next one, asking me for more help,"Ok, next one, Ones who never think of flying? One word, 10 letters, no letters filled in yet"

"Autopilot! I mean..autopilot." I couldn't control my excitement at another correct answer.

She looked at me again, suspiciously but content. She asked me if I did this puzzle before. I told her the truth and said, "No, I just think you and I are like a right hand and a left hand, ya know? One washes the other."

This time the look she shot me was the kind that agreed with me.

"See? That is why we keep each other around... to fill in the blanks," she followed.

I laughed and smiled but all I could think about was the time I spelt her name wrong minutes before she said goodnight.

The Downside of Never Losing Your Mind

The feeling is indescribable but I'll do my best to convey it here.
Once the thought enters the brain it's like a steamroller going 60 mph, destroying every other thought in it's way.
First, as soon as no other thinking can take place, it settles into the nerves inside my head but without regard.
Loud, obnoxious, and fairly difficult to get rid of, it is one of few thoughts that can send a man to his knees in pain.
Sometimes it creeps up disguised as nausea, other times there is no question as to what's happening.
A type of hurt accompanied by heat and anger and rage- rage that fills me from head to toe.
I can almost picture it, feel it, as it spreads through my veins. I would assume it is much like when a few drops of food coloring are dropped into a still pool of water. It’s a slow spread that brings on a rapid heartbeat.
It's the feeling that you lost but without grace. No friendly handshake, no better luck next time, no respect.
It reminds me that I was stolen from but also that it was my own fault.
It makes me wish bad things on a select few people I've never met, never seen, and on a few that I know all too well.
It's like a front row seat to watch someone you love get curb stomped.
The abilities of this one thought have shrunk my waistline more than a few times.
I'm sure that I am not alone in this feeling though. At least I know for sure the unlucky of my friends have had the same thought creep into their brains.
I've seen it take over their minds, I've seen it turn the mellow into the manic, I've seen it create vices. Some spend time in the hospital, but those are the weak. I find it's best to grin and bear it, clench your teeth, and remind yourself that you don't spend your nights alone either.
Do not try to outsmart it though. Do not try to pull a fast one on your own brain.
It creates a slippery slope once you delve into it with your fists full mast. You will regret voluntarily keeping your mind on it for any longer than needed. It can hit you at any moment but when it does take yourself out of the situation and just try not to vomit. Let it run its course, but be weary that it will return. It comes and goes as random as the weather. I assume it will still be one of my last thoughts when my bones are brittle and I am gray.
It is the downside of never losing your mind.

Alarming Me

I somehow slipped through the cracks in the floorboards
Through a small hole in the fence
And this feeling I get is alarming me

I can't keep living with my back against the wall
It makes me feel like I've haven't got a back at all
And this feeling I get is alarming me

Reminded by someone who reminds me
Of a younger me, carefree, without the subtlety
And this feeling I get is alarming me

I can't quite make out what I've been trying to say
If it were up to me the smile on my face
Would never be taken away
I hope you would understand

I've got a healthy home life I've been trying to save
Selfishly, but my heart's in the right place
But it still makes its mistakes
I hope you would understand

Tucked away in my pocket is a list of things
But I just don't have confidence in these wax wings
And this feeling I get is alarming me

Shutting my eyes to feel some of the things I cannot see
With all of my strength, it takes me
And this feeling I get is alarming me

Like a little boy I'll look through every hole in the fence
And I'll be curious until my days are through
And this feeling I get is alarming me

I'd like to tell you a thing or two about beauty and life
About the finer things I find
If you could just forget the real, just find some time
I hope you would understand

Underneath the floorboards I was taught how to smile
What it's actually like to be high
And where to go when you need to feel alive
I hope you would understand

Fire Eating Man

There is a match being held inside my chest, right below my breast bone.
Every bite and sip is like gasoline running down my throat.
Dehydrated and a bit delirious I've been laying in bed with my imaginary friends.
An inconsistent fever peaks at 101 to remind me that I'm burning alive from the inside.
Spontaneous combustion was a suggested reasoning but the burn is too slow to be considered impulsive.
No amount of water relieves the pain, especially when it's being pumped through my veins.
I screamed at the doctor today, "Call the fire department, send help! I'm spilling my guts and they're covered in blisters! What is it that you don't get?!"
You can see the glow illuminating behind my skin from the outside.
I haven't been coughing so the match is still lit and I won't stop my mouth from screaming until there is smoke pouring from it.

Just Know I've Been Underwater

I sat there, underwater. With all the time I once gave up weighing down in every direction, I lifted my hands from my lap using every bit of my strength. They moved slowly from the pressure surrounding them, from my lap to my face. I went to dry the sweat from my forehead but it was only by habit.

So I sat there, underwater, with all the time in the world passing me by in a few short, desperate gasps of airs. I couldn't see more than five feet ahead of me but I managed to take hold of the few blurred rays of sunlight slicing through the salted water. These few slivers gave me a few days of life, if I could use them sparingly. My grip was stronger than ever before, my fingertips scored and they held on tight.

As the sun retreated, taking it's arms of light with it, it lifted me slowly from my watery rocking chair. Each hour that crept by brought me just that much closer to the air above me, but the nearer I rose to surface the darker it became. The once secure rays of light, that at the time felt like the worlds strongest hands, began to loosen their grip on me. If I could feel my sweat, this would be the moment that it would become alarming to me, but I wasn't letting go no matter how dark and unsettling the situation grew.

I wrapped the fading rays of light around my wrists to take a better hold. They were the only light left. The stars didn't show, no lighthouse was in sight, these beams were saving my life without either of us realizing it. Time wasn't on our side and my lungs were starting to feel it. I felt lightheaded, delirious, and I'm sure I slipped in and out of consciousness a few times. I shut my eyes for what seemed like a few seconds, to try to regain a sense of reality, but I forgot to open them for hours.

I woke up to the sounds of birds but like as if I was having a nightmare, gasping for air, and sun burnt. The sand I felt on my knees was a sensation that I had not felt in so long that it almost hurt to touch. I looked at my hands, the same hands that took hold of the sun. They looked like they had belonged to a hundred year old man at this point. My skin felt heavier and weighed down on my bones more than I remembered but I was surrounded by air for the first time in a long time. I began to shiver but it made me smile. I took a breath, I was alive but the water made it abundantly clear that it had left its mark.

With You and You Alone

I rather spend my time with you
Than discover a new color
I rather spend my time with you
Than leave for a part time lover
I rather spend my time with you
Inside my chilly home
I rather spend my time with you
With you and you alone

I rather spend my time with you
Than find some buried treasure
I rather spend my time with you
Than fly like a feather
I rather spend my time with you
I hope I've made that known
I rather spend my time with you
With you and you alone

I rather spend my time with you
Grow old, big, and fat
I rather spend my time with you
If you could deal with that
I rather spend my time with you
To build a home of our own
I rather spend my time with you
With you and you alone

Now if I spend my time with you
Would you spend yours with me?
We'll throw our caution to the wind
and drift away at sea.
Please let me spend my time with you
We'll help each other grow
We'll spend our dying days together
Just you and I alone

L.F.S.N.

Walk a few stone throws away from where I rest my head half of the time and you'll find yourself standing in front of the tallest woman I know. I speak figuratively obviously but you would completely understand if you knew what I knew. A delicate frame built of steel, and smoke, and one that's reinforced at the shoulders. The weight I complain of on a daily basis could be tossed a mile high by her and she'd let it fall to pieces just to show the onlookers how untroubled it would make her. It would rest on her back in a neat pile, separated by index cards to keep track of how much weight is actually hers and how much belongs to everyone else. So far she has provided me the path to a love, a lesson in standing up straight, and hours of honesty that I would have otherwise lied about. Find her, talk with her, learn something.

Increase Your Intake, Decrease Mine

Keep your arms at a distance that allows only your fingertips to brush my face.
Bat your eyelashes on my cheek, act like a flytrap and make me feel their teeth.
Take tiny pieces of me to leave everywhere you go.
Insist that I still look great regardless of my plummeting weight.
Lose my voice for me so I can't scream and make it known for all to see.
Keep those goddamn hands away from me.

Stay On My ship, Burn With My Belongings

As it lowered into the water, miles away, I wonder if the sensation of heat that suddenly swept over me could be from the flame's warmth reaching shore. And at that moment, that is when I began to worry the most. There just wasn't a possibility that the blanket being draped around my shoulders was from the fire so far away. The wreckage floated every which way as the ashes trailed behind just before they fell into the sea. It seemed to burn for hours before completely disappearing from my view. I watched from the sand as it moved in any direction the wind chose, wondering if the continuous breeze would put out the flames in a just-in-time type moment, but the gusts only kept the wreck moving and never made an attempt to put an end to the burning. Just-in-time passed but I was relieved that the horizon ate the fireball before I could witness the moment of sinking that eventually would occur. As the realization that the warmth I had felt earlier was more than just a warm front sweeping in, I felt myself let out a sigh. It was a change of heart that came unexpected and now I'm stuck and left reflecting on things I thought to be so romantic but romance it just turned erratic.

When I Grow Up

I am not the smartest man alive. I've never claimed to be anything of the sort. The majority of the time I rather know less than I already do. As time has taken aim and taken hold of our ankles I've become jaded, lost a few passions and countless friends, and the amount of smiling on my part has greatly decreased. I've never stood alone on that fact though. We've all forgotten about how important the lines around our mouths are. They never stood a chance against death and taxes though, and when you have someone like Ben Franklin reiterating the fact it's not hard to lose sight of the moments that leave imprints on our faces. When and if I marry it will be to someone who is in direct competition with me to collect more laugh lines, and more crows feet than I can. When we were kids we were told to eat an apple a day, get plenty of rest, and exercise. But now, the apple's looking a bit rotten and I'm sure some of them have been poisoned. The amount of rest I get never seems to be enough and I can't help thinking it's because of the constant angel I sit on caused by the bulge in my back pocket. And exercising has been dumbed down to filling out forms and sipping on our favorite drinks. I'm proposing an idea though in regards to exercise. Instead of racing each other to the finish line, let's race each other to laugh lines. I've stopped caring about how full my head is or how fat my wallet is, just fill my face with wrinkles because I can't hide from Uncle Sam and the Reaper is hardly grim to me.

Poison and Water

I am composed up of a nasty mixture of poison and water.
The sip you take to quench yourself will be the same sip used to slaughter.
It drains out from every pore on my skin.
It floods from my eyes, my mouth and my grin.
The combination of the two has covered me in a rash with a silent itch.
Once I lost my footing my mind followed and it's been that way since.
I cannot control when it is one or the other,
or when it's both of the two working together.
The combination of the two has covered me in a rash only I can see.
But I am unaware of how long it will take to finally kill me.

Canvas Conditioning

Attached strategically to the canvas that covered her bag was where I ended up. I hadn't shined so bright for quite some time, until I had that canvas backdrop as direct support. I stood out in a box full of dull pointed earrings and mismatched buttons from centuries we could only read about. Laying buried underneath fake silvers and fools gold, I did all I could and made myself visible. Just enough to tap on her curiosity and enough for her to rummage through the old mess and tangles of garbage, just enough to spot me. So now I'm beginning to settle into this new spot I seem to be pinned to. So now I travel with her but only when it matches her ensemble. Things haven't been much better so I look on the bright side of things. At least I'm around and sometimes I can catch a glimpse of sunlight to see what's been going on lately. Sometimes I find myself wondering what it would be like to be attached to maybe a mailbag, or a backpack of some nature type enthusiast, or even on the collar of some spoiled girl's shirt. The places I think of when I pretend I'm not pinned to this canvas are lovely visions of fun and new sights and smells, but... I never really was much of a traveler, and I've never been too into the great outdoors for extended periods of time, and come to think of it I would never know how to stand out to someone who could have anything. Everyone, every once in a while, will glimpse over to the other side just to see how much greener things might be. But a quick glance is enough for me, my side's been green, dark green, light green, brown-green, florescent on occasion. At least it's consistent green, it's just in a different light than most understand yet. I'm happy with the canvas against my back now though. It's far beyond patience, or naivety, it's passed ignorance and bliss. It just is what it is. I figure, I've still got potential to become a part of the everyday ensemble, where I could be pinned to any bag she decided upon. Either way, she rarely loses things so I consider the canvas is exactly where she meant to put me for the time being.

Self-Inflicted and Shipwrecked By Science

I thought about all my belongings I must have left on board and how unsure I was now sitting and watching from shore. It was a miscue on my part and I now wait in hopes that the ship I left to sink will be blown back towards me. I sang my sorrows, mixed 'em up with some hope for tomorrow, the same hope that I begged to borrow. I sang and sat and watched.

Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile. The ship I came on I set on fire.
Bigger eyes, with a nicer smile. The ship I abandoned sinks on fire.
Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile.

It sounds far less charming when the melody is exiting my mouth though. It only goes to show that I'm far less aware of the truth behind Newton's third law.

No wonder why every time I tried to get higher I would only go down and every time I thought I was moving forward when I was only stepping backwards. Physics seems be the one thing that could turn this around.

Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile. The ship I came on I set on fire.
Bigger eyes, with a nicer smile. The ship I abandoned sinks on fire.
Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile.

I hit the books with that song in my head and began looking for an answer as to why physics could not explain the sensation of flying I am constantly feeling that only increases when you are around.

I am an object in motion and accordingly I am to stay in motion at the same speed and in the same direction unless I am forcefully acted upon by an unbalanced energy.

It is hard to explain the eagerness to change direction when everything looks great at a constant speed that never seems to skip a beat. Along with that, in order to justify the patience it takes just to put my feet back on the ground is not worth the argument if I can't argue against science.

Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile. The ship I came on I set on fire.
Bigger eyes, with a nicer smile. The ship I abandoned sinks on fire.
Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile.

Wide Awake With the Enemy

The sandman is a woman and she's got a crush on me. I plan on taking advantage of that in every way I can think of. She told me how lonely things get at night, while everyone waits for her peaceful touch. She asked me to call her Cassandra but I won't call her anything and it seems to bother her. We met some time ago by coincidence she says, but I can't remember how it happened. We spend hours in the dark together only because too much time spent alone can bring out the weird in people. Neither of us are very weird in comparison to our friends though. She came by the other night to grab a bite to eat. I didn't have much so I offered to take her out but we never leave my room. We've mastered two-player solitaire.

The Cannibal Above

A few nights ago, while everyone else in my life was lost in a dream or fully taken over by rapid eyes, I listened to the sounds of a sky in doubt. I'd lost sleep before but hardly ever because of anything outside my windows. Usually it was everything inside that kept me awake. The doubt crept in any time silence seemed to take me over onto the other side. It came as waterlogged tapping, some in time, most came randomly though, taking jabs at my windowpane. A strong breeze in disarray swept through my bedroom and left just as violently, throwing and scattering everything worse than ever. It threw my shades against the molding of their windows but there was never anything for me to catch to hold onto. The blue filter didn't even bother to come around yet to wake the birds and the birds, they normally acted as a distraction to everything else going on. They cut ties with me after a few mornings when I clogged my ears with cotton. I think it's selfish of them to be completely honest. Most of all though I think it was selfish of me to stay awake long enough to eavesdrop on a sky in it's most private of moments. It was the night I heard the sky begin to eat itself alive.

Beneficial Weeds

Sprinting side by side at full speed, I kicked up every dying dandelion I could see, as our sandals began to cut and blister our feet. Allergies were attacking us at all sides. Now along with the high, comes puffy eyes and sneezing fits. We paid no mind, and just basked in our time. Breathing patterns in sync, only off in times when one of our smoker's lungs kicked in and we voluntarily were forced to give in. Each flower we collide with guarantees next season to bring genetically identical, if not worse, allergies but it also gives each of us a chance to make a quick bunch of wishes in a short span of time. Sprinting side by side at full speed isn't always easy breezy. It feels like a time machine during moments of fatigue. At times when you can't feel your feet or during steps where we forgot how to speak, the time machine begins just in time to relieve. It takes us separately - reminds us what all the running is for. Sometimes we go back in time to help us remember where we've been going. Other times we're given a chance to stop in on the future, to rest, to dream, and to think of the next patch of weeds we'll run through.

To Start a Snowball Fight

Please stop.
Please.
I can tell when a person is lying 9 times out of 10.
So, I'm giving you the chance to gather your thoughts and start over.
Stop before you strangle yourself with your own words.
As your tongue weighs you down, I stop listening almost altogether.
I pretend that I'm watching you fumble, trying to carry the excess slab of flesh that hangs down your chin.
It collects dirt and gravel as it rests on the floor, as it drags behind you, as it leaves a trail of saliva-like-debris that mirrors a slugs.
The residue shines as I look at it. It's shiny, rainbow tint keeps me amused enough to keep listening though.
I'll make an attempt to change the subject in a few seconds to give you another shot at leaving this conversation behind us. You won't take it.
A combination of my ADD and the various other conversations going on around us are in your favor.
No one gives credit for multitasking anymore. I can walk and chew gum, but I can't expect an award for it.
You say something about a friend of yours, or a friend of a friend of yours, or maybe about something you heard an expert say. I'm an expert sometimes, do I ever get quoted mid-chitchat?
You mention that you can't decide if you agree or not with what you're even saying, so I better give you a reason to keep talking because I still have a little time to kill and you're pretty.
"Really? That's insane. What else happened?"
My foot is falling asleep, the guy behind you shouldn't talk to his son that way, I have to try to remember to get the results from my blood work back, and I have no idea what you're talking about at this point.
Pins and needles start at my foot, make their way up my leg, through my chest, and settle into my brain.
Pins and needles fit the mood perfectly. They aren't life changing but what an annoyance they can be.
The original lie has now snowballed and it's picking up speed as it rolls down your exaggerated tongue.
I feel like I should get out of the way before the on coming collection of bullshit barrels over me.
Here comes your last chance to redeem yourself so we can start over.
I'll look away for a few seconds to let you know I'm losing interest, only to come back to ask what your name is.
"Crazy stuff. I'm sorry, what was your name again? I'm terrible with this stuff."
Your name is irrelevant and I remember it just fine.
You tell me your name and follow with, "I'm so rude! Here I am talking about me and I don't even know your name or where you're from or anything!"
I smile, pretend to laugh, and tell you, "Oh it's OK, I enjoy listening and learning. My name is Jack, I live in Jersey but grew up in California."
My name is Chris, I've never stepped foot in California, and the truth will never matter to either of us, simply because it's more fun and easier to keep playing along.
You look at me while smiling and say, "Why, hello Jack, it is nice to meet you."
As you think of what to say next, you keep giggling and looking into my eyes. It makes me feel uncomfortable but it's OK because I'm impressed by your own multitasking skills.
I say something about my time in California and relate it back to our conversation, the snowball fight begins.

And a Heart like Pagliacci

The grinding teeth
And lack of sleep
Bring nothing but anxiety

Sandman, I plead
I'm on my knees
Fill my eyes with sand and dreams

Now, if I may,
I won't disobey
But if you leave and I'm not asleep
There will be hell to pay

Follow through
I'm warning you
Show your face at the same place
You left me some months ago

Merman

I look better on paper. I just wanted to let you know before you keep reading.
I'm much taller in person too. Not like I used to be but I can't stop shrinking.
There was a time that I would walk into a room and take a panoramic look over everyones head.
I was taller and stood up straighter. Circulation was better when I displayed good posture.
It helped out with the monopoly my heart had on the blood in my body but mutiny took place and now there are strict regulations regarding blood flow. My brain missed the meeting and my heart just doesn't get enough to pump the way it used to anymore.
My conscious was most likely keeping it busy from noticing what was actually going on.
For a while, in my life, I would never be a room for more than few minutes without locating where and how far every exit was from me at all times.
My secrets had a life of their own. They lived a more lavish life than I did and I began to grow envious. They had their friends and I had mine. The two groups never met.
I remember a day that they fenced me in and I was neck deep in ash and water with my back against a make believe wall.
Self-reflection came quicker than I would've thought so I learned to swim. But there are no exits when you're surrounded by water and I should have noticed that sooner. I slipped up, lost it for a while. My shoulders began to feel the water pressure pushing down on my entire body. It was the first weight that buckled my knees, even without a floor underneath me. I sank but it was a civil attack and my surroundings sank too, providing me with a clean slate.
Who knew I could breathe underwater?