i declare war

Featuredi declare war

we’re measuring time well spent in comparison with being alive, with variables, like success, love, happiness, events. sequences altered by perishable goods. reading love lives with expiration dates on the sides. barcode intimacy, how much more time do we devise an agreement to the affection we choose to provide?
violin makeshift cupid arrow enshrined. shoot me with a dart infused with your pride. if i had to count the times i’ve looked in the mirror with eyes, eyebrow furrow, hands to the side of my temple…. i’d be here for several millennia, beauty refinement.
wrestling this tempestuous lifestyle. hello?
we’re holding our hearts hostage in safe-boxes with landmines surrounding the bank.
hello? synopsis revealed. banking on silence to show how i feel.
balasana. pose like a child with me, soaking intermediaries every way that concealed. hello? asking rhetorical questions.. head over heels. in over my dome. headstrong hero with a halo on his head.
little boy asks me, sir how did you get that halo?  i was shot with a bullet. i died many years ago, but you see, i’m still alive, i was brought back by the mercy of her heart. that why i drink every last drop of her every time we embark. on a journey, adventure. heart on a gurney on the way to forever. do you remember the time? when we fell in ..uncertainty. like a hollow bridge. monotonous. pearly gate verbiage montage. flagellate the worst of me with surly deception. we want to be hurt. to learn how it feels to not be loved. tango footstep correction rehearsal. put your hand over mine right when i turn you. into oblivion…fools gold feels so common, this feels so fucking different

sigh

hit me with absurd questions that divulge your interior, let me in your pavilion.  Trojan horse the overlord who gate keeps your inner desire. let me lick every-bit of you so you could set apart the distinction between this and failed lovers. wail into my ears, moan infinity when you i reach into space. fingertip climactic, instructional touch. pillow speak, intimate, bickering flux. jaw clench, muscle fatigue. rubbing scent off into me. off into sheets. skin feels like a innuendo. you scream. insinuate what i want to do to you. black eyeball lunar eclipse, d minor diluvian beach. obsidian sun has declared war on your every crevasse. get on your horses to escape the perversion inching across, like a lion in stalk. hold me to a higher standard. feel the fire attached to light the canvass. let me become your favorite anomaly. like a hired gun creeping along the kings walls. coup d’etat. murderous passion. feel the blood pump, reading morse into your skin. amorphous. metaphorical sin. never feel alone again. make you jump ship and cross over to this. now we cant go back to before.

the war has commenced

figure me out.

figure me out.

it’s beginning to show

the way intertwining dividends between time invested, and growth. sore throat, sore back, sore humdrum. the ever growing size of my blood pump squeezing out of the thorax. 500 pound live, flesh chief alien invasion. the least entertaining showcase of something alive. imagine going to sleep, with binary code in your dream. you wake up and see, a beating heart in the sheets. take a nosedive into oblivion. hold me. i sigh.

neitzche authored the sequences that I’m telling you now. everyday is considered lost if were not dancing around. acceptance a must. i want to forget you, forget that it happened.. lao tzu said if you’re depressed you’re living in the past. if you’re living in the future, then its anxiety. i’m trying to delete this undo button on the time machine. i want to speak to the one. whether it be with our feet or our tongues. I’m used to this dance. exchanging euphemisms or moving to trance. don’t lose me. opportunities snatched.

i don’t know how to express myself without giving away, exact detail, but still obscuring the day. the sunset, and the rain, the gun smoke, the malaise, the perspiring. tired breaths, fire sex. i couldn’t talk.  because you were my only dialect

getting wound up in simile and allegorical speak, creating a world where the orbit isn’t even normal to me. it’s tough being an alien. love seeing it rain. UFO license plate reading catch me if you can. i love seeing you change, don’t want to see you the same. love being in rain.  i hate leaving a trail that’s exposed. i love sleet, hail and the snow. they’re the same thing just at different times of the year. like.. we are. or we were. i love to be in control. i hate underlying factors. i hate underlining tantrums. i hate when the sun provides a mountain of sunshine for eternity. i hate uncertainty. being doused in a punchline is concerning.  i dislike being lost. implant a GPS in my dome, let it beep when I’m gone. come sing me a song, lea salonga, let me show you the world. an interrupted reality where romanticism is whole. where erotic fiction overturns symphonic diction thats promised. everything i input is invalid or old. I can’t put my finger on it.

I’m back again. I identified the problem. Happiness can’t be figured out. That’s the point. you’re either a vastly void barcode, or a single celled, organism. that was an awful way to put what I’ve been trying to mean. and honestly

i didn’t say what i wanted to scream. i’ve got a troll that lives under the bridge where sound comes out of in the link of my throat. a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow isn’t enough to bring him to home. you live and you tell stories for these generations to see. I’m barely better than i was 5 minutes ago. but barely is better than nothing. i plead. pitch me a tent to live in. please, don’t let me down. sometimes i’ll take a shower, and put it on freezing. and sit there until i figure it out. goosebumps surround sound. sound cut off. curtain close. audience gasp. slowclap. then taking a bow.

wallflower here

wallflower here

the perks of being a wallflower, or disadvantage in case. mr observant, half perfectionist, getting a taste of his own medicinal value, describe me to myself in a vacuum. tell me how many times i scratch my chin, touch my ribcage, leave you feeling incomplete.
when you feel me getting nervous around you, so i can cross my arms defensively. straighten up my posture and..
and tell you you’re wrong. or break down and cry.
i’m.. difficult.
an impressionist, copies people to the point where its comedic. I wouldn’t say I’m an impressionist.
it’s not funny
deflecting points of interest because im upset with how my intelligence handles situations. and ive rattled enough cages to know, the focus of peoples pain comes from the same place that mine does.
conflict of interest. consciously thinking how to forget
i heard you like puzzles. when my eyes water my vision breaks apart like a kaleidoscope.
do or die. get close to me. don’t whisper, or the tripmines will hear you.
kaleidoscope. i’m so fascinated with it. the way it, breaks apart your vision, and makes you see different things. sort of the way
that
you do.
i’m a witness to my memoir. self-aware, debonair deathstar. get away. n bomb. i feel your pain. embark on this journey to my self-sustained benchmark.
gaze at you from a vantage point, you barely knew i had an angle to do so
saxophone tenor, ballad with loopholes, italian caruso.
some call it voyeuristic, i call it opportunity presenting itself
shy guy chronicle meets the walking contradiction for help
don’t decimate my only distinction. i barely hold myself together
captain to starboard, i want more than affection.
sometimes the grip of your neck gives me..cant describe it

They’re hardly going to miss you, don’t look back to Gomorrah
there’s a karmic relationship between, I and the plethora
of auras
ironic leaf petal spinning like a helicopter, whistling whirls of wind, warping through the breeze. falls onto my skin, wafting through the fabric. blasting through my membranes. i need to stop over thinking every situation, sometimes a leaf falling is just a leaf falling. romanticizing everything that crosses my path. i think it’s because i want to believe that my life is something more than the background bystander in someones dream. i think its because i want to feel more than what i feel at any given moment. i think its because when i cry, i feel like my tears carry entire poems in them, and when they fall off my cheek that splash entire novels on innocent civilians. my brain reminds me of a dreidel that gets spun and keeps going. forever.
its redundancy is suffocating. sometimes, ill fall asleep for what seems years and i barely recognize myself in the mirror. sometimes, i get jealous of animals that can cocoon themselves for what seems like a lifetime, i know it seems morbid, but i can’t help to think that maybe a cryogenic chamber is waiting for me somewhere. maybe im a butterfly yet to spread its wings. i havent fully reached who i want to be
i use the word kaleidoscope a lot.
i like getting lost in the puzzles. i feel as if, i can find the ending to the pattern. that somewhere between the rose-colored glasses, there’s a door with an infinite keycode that i know the password too, and when i open it…
im not lost
anymore
theres somebody there.

soul, baby. soul

soul, baby. soul

it’s almost complete. distance between falling apart

from whispering secrets, sequence you act non chalant

like, a purist in person. told you to stop kissing my heart

questioned why, choking back tears. au revoir

vous ne bronchez même pas quand je retire votre soutien-gorge

and it’s worthless. holding hands under jupiter star

deafening stare. kaleidoscopic. where we grew afar

or begun growing. to knowing it was doomed to begin with

congruent in interests. confusing indifference

acting as if you didn’t already know

marlboro rogue. leads in my chest. heart in my throat

it’s okay because, a month is barely a whisper

speaking sweet nothings with nobody to listen

I’m sorry I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

evolving into something without your permission

where’s the accomplice? bonnie with a gun to their clyde

are we only partners in crime when the love has subsided?

you threw me a bone. how oddly shakespearean

homeopathic dosage delirious

slowly becoming romeo through the experience

juliet, my rose, you told me not to pick flowers for you

to let them grow and die without interference from you

i slowly understood what you meant what you said

when you blinked once and said nothing in bed

trojan horse valentines gift. hold it close to your breast

let me invade you. while we both hope for the best

how to enjoy a private dinner, without making a noise

paris to my helen- keep kidnapping my voice

cross an ocean, fight the army waiting at troy

calloused rejoice. carry the spoils from my battle deployment

wearing a cast on the places you touched out of choice

colliding connection, copasetic, catharsis, caress.

coalescing conversations under our breaths

touching soil under toes. label it normal behavior

letting out guttural moans, sultry, fluttering. flavor

it’s okay. i get it. it’s just sand in the wind

to drinking from chalices any chance that we get

to get lost in inebriation, just to forget

how we treat each other when we kiss with our …..

my mother once said, my child you love without any condition

a gift i admire in you. it worried her sick

to be at arms with a lovelust, gun to your neck

shot glass throwback. wipe off the taste from my lip

barely consent to this insatiable tryst

listening to playlists, and the rain hit our heads

save me a seat. musical chair gallantry version

you were the last one standing when i asked myself who is your perfect

and who can touch you in ways you haven’t learned

also who is the single most dangerous person

and who gives you this doable courage

and to that, i add who is the only one that can hurt it

and then..

so little, little

why am i here again

why does it matter?

handle with care. these items are fragile

wear a mask and lie to your closest, Keyser Söze display

let’s erode together, hold my rusty hand in the rain

tin man toppling, iron giant in grave

hear the fucking rain pound it’s way on my armor

using my metal like drum sets you pawn at a shop

discontinued discounted item left on the shelves

try-me! buttons as the battery fades

buzz light year rotary wind up doll, lullaby weak

sober man thinks drunken thoughts, just as he speaks

choking on my own blood, cause apathy, me

galloping scene, horseback, valiancy

it may not matter to you, but it matters to me

the dialogue of my backdrop. you can’t hear when i scream

driving on the interstate, windows open at three.

in the morning. just a blip in the radar

you’re still asleep while I’m on the brink of displacement

gargoyle stiff statue, while i get lost in a gaze

i’ve been holding on for too long and i know that it’s vague

using words like brink, sink and edge, they’re one in the same

tired of feeling tears fall off of my face

redirect the traffic, tired of no reciprocation when i reload the page

or reload the gauge, or reload the matrix

it happens when pain exceeds the resources for coping with pain

hold still in the mirror, whisper I’m sorry in latin

i only know how to say it, cause i knew this would happen

from day one to day two. behavior erratic

dilapidated homecoming. hello? is anyone there to collapse in

they don’t care. shot of stoli and absinthe

stare at the hole deep in the attic, hold me when i’m chugging

rosary pundit. they say depression causes lapses in judgment

the smoke from the cannon can be alluring to sadness

pretending i love myself was just one of the many

contemporary somethings, below my bellowing setting

saying hello, while I’m clinching on at the edge

where the sidewalk ends? let me make some amends

before i fall off, derail off normal trajectory

disorderly conduct off disorders. where is she?

the one that i prayed for? you said you’d deliver

so many questions, so little… little

so little

little

cloak and dagger

cloak and dagger

you’re

not what i dreamed of

or hoped for, that potential was reached

long before, i harbored emotions in secret

sophomoric sequence, plot twist i saw all along

held my breath for a year, lungs turn carbon to smog

another movie screening, hold hands in between it

reach maximum zenith, whisper “never leave me” under closed palms

so calm. never flinch. a wink and a nod

no blinking for three hours. let that sink in for awhile

lovers island. skipper of ol’ overly passionate

fingers stranded in your hair strands, bend over and ask me

a question, do i love you or not

fingertips touching your every hope. every cross

of fingers, wishing we would drift apart

I’m driftwood and you’re just another fish in the ocean

lake, spring, river whatever’s

spend an eternity painting a picture to think us together

calabaza picking. if i revisit you i get a feeling to itch

uneasy. breeze hits me, the wind changes, while each season commences

we get lazy. it’s insane. we never connect but still swing for the fences

up to my neck in words that don’t even exist

flood in my pharynx, like phalanxes fighting to fix

squad of anxieties i refuse to acknowledge

perusing the side of me i loosely demolished

smokescreen dagger. condensation hazy opaque

wheatgrass chronicle, diary dripping sanctity. lake

bedstand. siamese twin bed, oak crickety floors

the hole in the wall where my fist lived in before

unroot me where i stand, dandelion seed floating amiss

eve foliage, sin growing vivaciously when

there’s ..

quantities of flowers germinating in spring

blooms of orchids in rancor,

tempertantrum fills in the hue

rhythm and blue soapbox

sorted

chrysanthemums

most of its cloak and dagger

tattoo flowers

tattoo flowers

it’s

become more of a habit

interval time from interacting with humans

irony overlaps boredom and passion

kiss away sadness. verbally vie away the synapses

blood stained flesh from a rose

thorn on a flower.

cry self preservation to keep presence remote

listen in on private conversations.

fly on the wall

i, carry disdain like i tattooed pride on my arm

in light of today, might as well just be dark

people fill rooms with nice decoration

my empty spaces are filled in with looming

distractions. better me, than you. interaction

pencil me in for the 2 o clock in the noon

i’ll probably be late for that, too.

terrariums. rattlesnake vein photosynthetic approach

poached eggs for breakfast right on my porch

tap the cigarette on the wood, ash lay on my flowers

i wonder how the fuck they still

grow

but they do

maturing too fast

maturing too fast

it’s up for existential debate. whether or nots

we’re here for a reason, or stranded here just to rot

leisurely lonesomes, sunrise kingdom unfolding

delicate flower, nuclei destined forever in forest

do or die sentiments. sediment ready to rise

blood pact suicide, toes in the sand in the tide

were only in focus when we start to succeed

congratulations/shaking hands to hands shaking in sleep

panic attack, borderline personality disorder

solace in silence. everyday a soldier is dying

PTSD from maturing too fast. i’ve been told to collide

with my demons. flashback, detachment paranoia. decide

what do with yourself, paranormal dishevelment

clash encounter to delusion like an asteroid belt

entering earth, atmospheric phenomena avoided like hell

poised to no end, with no end to foretell

such a pity. holy shit. shame we all have stories to tell

100 ears. nobody listens. pouring whiskey in wells

swirl it in the glass, little tornado cyclone, perhaps

we tell it with such hope, rehearsed, to speak it with ease

oh how we change for others -sleep with our demons for free

beelzebub pedigree. honeybee to a wasp

fur elise. Elysium waits with alyssum in her palm

this suggests to me, what i’ve known all along

kiss of death, pain is strength, literally everyy song

diet plan. exercise, what’s your secret to looking your best?

don’t eat for days, ha-ha. pause. i said it in jest

capricorn, libra, maelstrom pathogen, fetal position

battle ballistic, garrison mission. administer oil in my cannabis christen

cataclysmic mushroom smoke. cultured difference aside

there’s more to living, so to speak, than living to die

unambiguous chameleon, dressed in camo fatigue

in his pavilion, that the big wolf blows at til he can barely breathe

grow in a melting pot, petri dish human experiment

give him truancies, periods of time where truth is empirical

hold me a second. let’s grow apart, don’t second guess it

stare at me like a tornado looks at tulsa and edmond

then

a letter to whoever loves me next

a letter to whoever loves me next

To whoever loves me next, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if one day my words brings lightning to your lips, and the tingle of electric bursts makes your tongue turn numb. Your cheeks turn red, flushing flirtatiously. Feverish hue, and a bottomless stomach with drunk butterflies maneuvering to get out of, then out of nowhere there’s radio silence. White static for days, weeks, months, and soldiers keep saying roger, roger, roger and out but the frequency is dead. It’s dying. Im sorry if you feel the need to say you love me over and over. Because, my words aren’t reaching you and my love isn’t warming you. Your heart is in winter and the summer solstice is buried deep in my eyeballs. I keep crying because I want to get it out. I want so badly to warm you. I’m sorry, when you say it, that no reciprocation is met, no attention is given, and words lay on deaf ears. Ears, that feel the words go into them but a mouth that is getting no feedback from their vocal chords. A black hole that absorbs all sound. My only way to communicate is to kiss you as softly as I could. Cling onto my lips. I’m sorry if you don’t believe me, this is how I am and I’m trying to change. I feel your body language judging me and it’s tearing me apart. I will worry about losing you, and , i’ll scramble, through everything. I won’t be myself, because i’ve been taught through actions that whatever i do isn’t enough. And enough is in love letters and dates and remembering your mothers birthday and asking you if you’re happy, only to not be happy myself. It’s a self recurring nightmare that feeds on my anxiety. And my anxiety feeds on my heartache and my heartache feeds on my muscles that are too weak to stand up for myself. You’re too good to be true, and if history repeats itself then I think the truth will finish me. My history is a chemistry class, and my teacher tells

me not to play with fire. Understand, that my vulnerability is like trying to put a glass cover on a phone screen and the tiny dust that you can barely see are your words, and reaction to the very phone you’re trying to protect. Understand that my feelings have OCD and the dust are your words and the phone is a magnet to dirt and oil and you need to handle me until your neck hurts and your pores seep sweat. please. We’ll go deep before I admit that I’m new to this. Never done this before. That my soul weeps when you leave, and i don’t know how to sing it lullabies. I probably won’t be easy to love. Too many people never gave me examples. The examples i have are from a broken template; abandoned because of error. I’m sorry