i close my eyes and i try and think of where i'd be if i didn't have you where i have you now. i try to pull an image up but i draw up blank and it confuses me, everything is white and i don't know where i'm at, so i push the thought out, and i escape back into my skin. i sit and i wait. my cigarette has already burned down to nothing but ash and i look down as i watch it fall from what's left, shaking between my fingers. i never want to go back there. not back to that place, keep me here. you keep me here. i need you, like i have never needed another before. you hold me still and spin me around all at once and it's like nothing i have ever felt before, and to think, i haven't even felt the slightest touch, i've never tasted you about my lips. you're like a burst of fresh air, clean and recycled back into my lungs. i never want to lose sight of this, finally i can see.

summer's arriving upon approval.

and it's TIME TO GET LOW!

the nobyl days.

i miss my boys.
everything is free.

"...you will never be beautiful again"

you have never been so wrong in your fucking life.

i feel like i've searched the world.

every street, every store, rooms flooded floor to ceiling with books, page after page holding a million words i know i'll never read, written by faces i know i will never see, and so i continue to flip through, flipping through these pages looking for answers and looking for questions, reasons with no excuses and i find nothing and everything all at once. i try to make some sense of this, the things i'm feeling and the things i'm not feeling, and the only one i find myself brave enough to pull out of me, is that everyday that passes i throw my hands up at the sky, i scream at the sun and i let a small proportion of my hate free, everyday. i let it go. escaping from all of my tiny pores, this is me singing for you. i want to be saturated in you, soaked in everything you are, everything you, your heart and your mind are composed of, this is me longing for you, to cop a feel of what happy actually feels like. my mind runs quickly to a blur and pours out a pure image, standing back watching you pull your fingers down my face, not a single shake, not a sudden stir. i do not turn away, i do not quiver at your simple touch. i do not falter. i seize the day, oh how the world will scream "carpe diem, carpe diem, carpe diem!" i paitently wait for it to come, and when it does, my world will never know another. i will never feel another.

the jist of what's in my heart, rather than my head.

never been so sure of something like this. you say my name, like i've never heard it before. the way your words flow off the tip of your tongue, put a knot in my side, that leaves me wanting to be where ever you are. i feel like i don't know who i was before this happened, and it's such a tangible thought. it lets me sleep at ease. no more screaming, no more crying, no more pleas of desperation, i don't have to be alone. i finally, have everything, and to think i had everything before. i am baffled at the thought. you blow me clear out of my own waters. when i thought i could never separate the two, my hate and my love alike. i have finally found someone who sees what i see, the way i see it. believes what i believe, or the lack thereof, content in my own skin, whole in human form. a perfect being made in carnation for no one besides me. i don't know where you came from, what set you aside from all that others, you are so different from anyone i have ever encountered. hate was all you knew, as it was all i had ever known. this is something else, something unreal yet level with reality. parallel, completley.

portland, or.

i never knew such a place even existed, i want to go so bad.

satellite or star? i can not decipher.

"Shining like a work of art
Hanging on a wall of stars
Are you what I think you are?
You're my satellite."

- Guster.

1/2

the slightest touch would set me at ease, and so neglect becomes our ally, my world is never ending. sunshine and cigarettes. freckles on my shoulders. hate packed thin between my fist, love bursting at the seams, pounding with every swing. my hair is still black, my eyes are still blue. what is to come of this? i am only half the mess you think i am. i am only half the mess you take me for. kisses from the sun, peal the skin off my back, it burns as it comes in the window, soothing. i am inevitable. infinite to the thought, this world will watch me rise, it has no other choice. i long to set you free, paint my canvas in the sky. align the stars, in an order only the pure can read. this is what i see.

it's the slightest touch thats always scared me most.

and for the first time, in a really long time.
i. am. not. afraid.

it's anarchy time.

all the time.

asymmetrically aligned.

in such a world, where there are no eyes, where we see nothing. everything seemingly translucent to the slightest thought. you're blessed and built, built not blessed. it's nice to have such keen hearing. short and sharpe, and asymmetrically aligned, not on the sides of my head, not hidden beneath my dark black hair, but buried somewhere deep inside my chest, right next to my heart.

yes, i can hear you breathing.
i can hear you say my name.
and i need you, i need you, so free me.

i close my eyes and i listen, every night when i leave you, and you go and you sleep. i close my eyes and i still hear you. it comforts me, so i sleep. i am not alone.

you're nearly sixty four miles down the road. a road i have seemed to have traveled maybe a hundred- maybe a thousand times. known slick like the back of my hand, i read every line, i watch as they unfold and fold as i take turns clenching my fist, and letting my fingers escape to the sky again. i repeat. they tell me stories. i know these roads so well, so crisp, like the blue in my eyes, like the blues in yours. oceans they call them, "you carry the ocean in your eyes." i could drive with them closed, not missing a slight turn. i know this venture so well. it seems i've been a million times, and never, not once, for the sake of seeing you. that will surely change, with the tiny taste of time.

you're sixty four miles down the road.
and yes, i can hear you breathing.

i place my hand to my chest, and i listen.
i can hear you breathe.

i don't know much of anything these days, i don't know the boundaries of what is and what is not. what is possible and what could be known so easily as a failed attempt, but i attempt anyways. because with walls stronger than myself, my heart rest inside a chest made of bricks and mortar, my heart it beats inside these walls. pure and deceitful, playing tricks on myself. i have to pull myself out and repeat "this is real, he is real, i am not asleep, this is no dream, you have my heart you're tearing down my walls, one by one i release them, i swing and swing and there's nothing left, pieces of rock and brick lay at my feet, it's starting to pile up" i start to scream. there is no sound. no sound barrier to break, nothing to make sense of this. all i know is my heart is pure, untouched and pure. sincerity, sustained. this world is my world now, and i only want to make it ours. i stay here, in a world where anything and everything is possible. here inside my head. get inside my head, and when the first light comes, all i can ask, is that you breathe for me.

crispy crispy.

where are you now?
my arms are sore for you.
i hide my smile for you.
bashful, they'll call me.
bashful, without you.
you make me.
my bed is warm for you.
my heart it aches for you.
come near.
a little closer, receive me.
my mind is whispering things to you.
things you've never heard before.
my eyes want to show you.
things you've never seen before.

11:11pm.
11:11pm.

an imagination so clear like the one i carry, is astonishing.
it's like being in love for the first time.

lately:

there is no canvas bigger

i turn around and fling open both doors, i search and search for paints, rummaging through my cabinet, stacked four high, on the back wall of my mothers art studio. clouds cover the sky, in acrylic. my eyes and hands seem confused and have lost all motivation and direction, all notion of what i want to create, like i could create what's in my head, if only it was that easy, i would be astonished. i can't seem to pick out the colours, i can't seem to find the right colours that my heart aches for, i'm baffled. slightly. i wish i could cram my hands inside my head, through my ears or something, and let the world see what i see. let my ear drums ring, let them hear what i hear. feel what i feel, i long to set you free. oh world, why can't i just set you free? i can't picture it any other way, as if someone ripped open my stomach, belly up, laying on a table, spread out, unable to move. paralyzed with some sort of freedom, setting my tiny organs at ease. my heart beats at a rather unusual pace, than it did before. than it ever has before. i'd spread my arms open, i let you take everything, from the inside out. remove my organs, hold my heart in your hand. you'd think i'd bleed to death, no. colours flowing through my veins, a mixture of blues and greens, yellow pastels and black inks, i take my hands into my chest, pull them out again, wipe them a cross the canvas, let my fingers tell you what i'm made of, because this is what i'm made of and this is all i am. take what you will, do as you wish, i am motionless. solitaire. lost in solitude. my hate and love don't blend the same. the colours aren't similar, or the lack thereof, their indifference. the shades, they pull away like two magnets. they push and pull but never touch, with out flipping to the other side. "always watch your back darling, for when it turns away, it's what they say then that matters." they are not the same. for the first time in a long time, my hate and love are not the same. separated by the reddest of reds, love like the colour of the sky, and hate the colour of the dirt traveling swiftly under my feet. we are all the same, no? we are all so different.

it's been almost four summers since....

i first learned what love was. it's crazy how much people can change. how we don't even look like who we were then.

bewilderment, or the lack thereof.

i sat in bewilderment, as i slurred my life story or the parts of what i had conjured up of it, arranged into words, to try and make some sort of sense, to try and get it down on paper, a record of who i was then and who i am now, the indifference between what was and what still is. what i took and what i left behind. i had lost myself "withdrawn from my own reality" i want another to interpret beauty they way i see it. to see the things i see, how i see them. to understand with out any slight confusion why i am the way i am, how my head works as it does. clever trick blend in, repeating the same metaphors because it's all i can find to spell it out for you correctly, or incorrectly, which ever way you choose to take it. i climbed on top of the mountain i built so tediously inside my head. i had to summit that mountain,and so i did, like i built in on my own, my own foundation, to my own little never ending world. i found a place where i was okay, a place of sheer comfort and solitude. still no matter how many times i ventured back to those woods, where the trees were tall and the grass was green, every return, everything untouched the way i left it. i was still so alone, and up until now being alone was perfectly alright with me. i was okay. and out of the blue, i yearn to be next to you, because i feel you'd find a sense of security next to me, inside my head. some sort of unexplainable comfort leading to the point of discomfort, completely dumbfounded, baffled, safe inside my chest, beating inside my heart. in sync with that tiny organ as it pumped the blood right through my worried veins. it was so inviting. so enticing. something so new. you'd trace the tree roots with your fingers watching them dive in and out of the ground, coming up for air and resurfacing to let you catch a glimpse of what reality did or did not appear to be, here in this world. here inside of my head. i find myself going there more often than i swim to other places, here and there and up the hill, down the trail to the cool waters. they were so clear and so blue. and so i swam. i dipped my tongue in for a taste of what i would imagine to sting like purity, sincerity. utopia they call this, complete nirvana. but it was dual and stale and that was alright, in my world nothing was to feel too sharp. pungent. here in my world, i made sure, nothing hurt. here is where i could remove my mask and never fear fear. i was not afraid. i am not afraid. the sun shoots it's arms through the leaves and it reaches my shoulders leaving kisses made of sweat, on my body, where it has never been kissed so soft before. the slightest touch, would make me shake. i'd turn the other cheek and walk away, into the dark and back beneathe the trees, into the shadows where the sun couldn't scare me. where my eyes didn't burn. i lay in the grass as an open book, come to me and read me, my words composed of mistakes and wrong direction. your eyes are so intriguing. i welcome you with open arms, get inside my head, get inside my head. i scream your name and you don't answer. hello ears are you listening? hello heart do you hear me? i wish to feel you, your fingers on my face, i am astonished. where did you come from? lurking up on me, and scaring the life back into me, to the point of feeling more alive than i've ever felt any day, or second before. i feel alive again. i feel compelled to say i need you, in so many different ways. listen to me talk about you, and how you so easily set everything i question at ease, sleep in peace you suble letters, marked return to sender. i need not your anwers, i have found mine here. a linger. a stoe away, i am free.

such an indistinguishable mess.

my world is never ending.

art bar, columbia sc.

this made me laugh.

this is not about you.

i am so indifferent. i am so intrigued.
if only the wind could move this soil.