you sat in your space
i spun in the chair
will I go fast enough
establishing equilibrium
so it won’t be my head
doing the spinning
maybe I’m thinking
maybe we’re not
this theory’s not proven
and looks like…
science is winning
so maybe i’ll stop.

yeah i’m thinking
while you’re resting
shadows collecting
the silhouettes projection
catching your breath and
covered in sweat
with arms out-stretching
i put my hand in yours
and you shy away
not just from my side
but up the coastline

now you’re thinking
maybe he’ll stop thinking
gasping for breath and
find another something

box me in
contact
my next of kin
toe tagged
body bagged
on the outside now
looking in
funny how things
at least somethings
work like that
you’ll never grow
accustomed to it
trust me
cause I haven’t
living the failure
hesitant.

little flecks
dots and specks
intricately assembled
paternally resembled
dark or pale
our organic chain mail
keeps us together
shields the weather
mother natures armor
flesh to the charmer
its how we recognize such
things as a cool breeze or a warm touch
of lips and fingers
teeth and stingers
pain or comfort
which ever it is…
that comes first

trapped in the throws
of prose
the curse
of verse
from nose
to toes
from sky
to earth
over bridged gaps
and tapped synapses
wired shut
cleared and cut
mouthing sentences
with vague references
mourning words
more than life
burying thoughts
like resentments
lost love entitlements
harbored away
where they’ll never be missed
on the internet
the vast emptiness
of images and text
i say its
better to waste kilobits
than sheets of paper
with this shit

times elapses with turing hands
or grains of sand
watch faces
clock races
blank spaces
the thought that erases
its time to
transfer my energy
to somewhere its more needed

i don’t pick up on signals,
in fact i’m quite terrible.
at reading people in general.
this serves me no benefit,
i guess thats it.
its whats make this mess.

second guessing,
facial expressions,
parsing information,
for your submission,
in the present syntax,
its hard finding a match,

if i can’t read your eyes,
i might as well be blind.
since i don’t pick up on signals,
in fact i’m quite terrible.
at reading you.

stumble once
and you’ll recover
make it a pattern
and you’ll discover
trust
is like an envelope
never the same
once the seals been broke
thoughts can slip
when they’re meant to halt
even those
taken with a grain of salt
they can’t say
what we want to hear
we’re uncertain
cause the words aren’t clear
it doesn’t matter
when it doesn’t make sense
past, present
or in the future tense

i write down riddles
sprung from my head
most of them
are better left unread
scribbled or keyed
just for fun
who am i
or what have i done
sometimes…
they are just to confuse myself
sometimes…
some things…
are better left on the shelf

you can roll your eyes in circles
dropped jaw
catch the heavens above
with your tongue
wont matter a bit to me
for its an injustice
and i know you can’t
balance the weight
since its forked and longer
than the days
if it was any longer
it would
make a sane man crazier
and as confused as the world appears
rolling them
only guarantees
to make it appear more confusing
alot of
what
we need less of
and thats the truth

physically present
elsewhere…
in any other state.
shape shifting
this reflection
of character
into liquid
seeping into
the earth
as to escape
from view
from the
edges of a pinebox
as the sunlight skirts
finger nails
and dirt
drag along to a
movement reduced
to a confined area
of boundries
laced through
heavy wrought iron gates
behind which
glady I’d stay
if it meant this memory
would forever be
vivid as the best
of all my days
and this
its what I plan to do
a life of exile
seems like the
most appropriate thing to
mourning one
moves into greeting another
realizing
the great ones
are few and far in-between
and the lines of people
those strong
unwaivering as they seem
dwindle
as the burden of life
spends its spare change
the hand is empy
the last toll paid
a promise to keep
what promises were made
heavy lines
on a long drawn face
watery eyes
speaking words
those that are
never uttered
ending everyday
with the longest sigh…
its sad to watch the good people die