crush

he’s

sitting in his shadow
match lit. iron sight shifting with his arrow
da vinci with a trebuchet.
resentment at a younger age
don’t think i’ve ever fucking been the same
stay still please, so i don’t have to ever aim.
heartbeat on my cabernet, gospel on the interlude
never into hurting you; but that’s probably hurting you
want to hear you love me, but that’s my crawling incertitude
I’m sorry. you’ve heard it… too… many times
loose lips sink ships on the new delhi line
blueberry, thyme, seattle fog on the bloomsbury dime
anxiety finds a new adversary for you every time
kavinsky playing nightcall
nightfall addict. gun-slinging, moonlight absorber
eyeball static, upbringing made me too primed for torture
leukocyte warlord with a do-or-die sword code
DNA punching out morse, cause the nuclei’s disordered
sobering negative. gripping a metal shank alloy.
overly sensitive programming on this self aware android
therapists that call me the armchair nutcase
trying to turn back to bugged versions of his software update
i stop to stare into your eyes, perfect, oval shaped opals, like russian dolls holding more jewels in them like an enigmatic invention
a hundred soft, hazel static connections, like joules that gather intent, that teach me there aren’t lessons in every traumatic event

what the fuck do i do

the moon the moon
the moon the sun
the sun the moon
press mute
succumb
doomed doomed doomed
I’m doomed. we’re done
who who who
are you
who are us? collusion
contusions.
you’re a cup of hot chocolate
on the fiercest winter morning
feel the blisters forming
whistle through the windows
pixelating percentage
whistling. cold air
whistling dixie
through the windows
it’s snowing.
frost on the glass
particle splat
icicles look like christmas ornaments
your silence
makes me question myself
i was too human
too human. too human
too godamn human.
too.
human.
(everywhere i put a period, is a moment in the story where i teared up and cried)
.
..
.
i fucking, maybe i should’ve danced.
that one time
that one time(.)
maybe that would’ve changed something
that one time that
one time
hot chocolate woman cup
god damnit. open up
do i remain robotic?
or do i remain human!
robot. beep booop
robust. beep boop
my safe full of cold guns
beep boop.
.
.
what do i do with you?

my mother used to say

hi. I’m okay. my name is .. (private exchange)
oceanic delight. mariana trench – lets lie on the waves
get lied to with promises as you wave your goodbyes
the we’ll soon see each others. the i cant wait to arrives
gesticulating giant, wide-eyed naivety shine
Juan Valdez roast – a vagabonds variant vibe
cash valet parking  -pristine ’85 BMW e28.
cabernet offswitch. tannins drip from my IV cause i don’t bleed dna
deviate from the norm. heliocentric. her face is a star
she makes the sun turn violet, and gives rainbows their scars
technicolor stitches, wounds wash radiant art
do re mi, one way street of living, who’s to say that we are
in edens garden, dancing naked to purple rain
my dorsal fin can’t navigate the deepest waters
irregardless, blood print barely cracks the surface stain
the takeaway is mundane themes

it’s okay to want a place to scream
the days are hard fought battles, wars go on for weeks, and
hurricanes are taking shape in the subway steam
every sunday, he tithes revived percentages of hope
so a little bit inside me dies from the carcinogenic dose
AM country station blazing through the cigarette tray
grandpas epitaphs engraved in in-direct faith
12 volt Citroën culture, french press grit in my veins
vaudevillian silhouette, it’s like you barely saw her
stained-glass windowpane,
leather love-seat, Frankenmuth Bavarian auberge
accompanied by airport sound wave dispersement
dial pound eight, to reach the operator rotary nuisance
call me a mutant, because we hate feeling lonely as humans
let’s huddle around the baggage carousel until we depart
what bothers me is the converging of a million souls living apart
common courtesy talks, airplanes are altitude civilian parks
we’ve been displaced by a culture aimed to minimize faith
and dilute consumer bases, zombified mimicking ape
my father used to say – take walks when it’s pouring down rain
why? so you can revisit the bridges burned in your wake
never had a father, it was just something I said to myself
did I divulge too much? my mother always said keep to yourself
cause’ the hearts on your sleeve are a poker players favorite tell
manifest themselves as sheep who hastily offer you wool
did the vague release of my cry remind you of wolf?
hell in a handbasket, riding hood tells us we fear who we are
too many questions, not any answers. period, pause

i know what i need 

I dont know what I want

whether its surface dwelling alone at the swamp
or an oak in a marsh, soul searching proverbial want
we’re more or less spawns of monsters nobody needs
you were my star spangled banner and I was taking a knee
subterranean breeze, vitamin pond, still smell your perfume
every once in a blue, Dahlia Divin creeps in the room
black lagoon creature. months of despondent malaise
never under the same moon, but always got in your way
every constant is change, every constant in chains
the sheriff to my merits, conversation warranted pain
follow the tunnel light or continue to walk amongst shade
politics, topic delay, boxer on the ropes
you taught me to love; but to love to be alone
a hundred teeth, sunk in deep, til’ they’re rusting at the bone
propaganda prone, post traumatic melodic drama
copacetic cathartic static, momentary sedative saga
mama said to me never mince words with misses karma
megabit verbage. sapient alma in the trenches of mock prison
velvet and soft linen, cotton henley makeshift pajama
couldnt figure you out…
kissed crevasses in your skin you were indifferent
about
you’re awkwardly distant to things that slipped through my mouth
look at you now..
Sinatra’s lovers glance, blood soaked sinful devout
the untolds dripping, gun smoke cigarette clouds
love grows thinner when sun strokes negligent doubt
what comes, goes.
hum low under floor boards or they’ll figure us out
self destruct sequence, count to zero with me
feel your feelings metamorph like metaphors in the breeze
i don’t know what i want, i just know what i need
better go home before I’m awoke and i see you
full of momentary passes focused entropy seams
beams of light bustling through cracks in the stream
pockets of time form like globules; we’d skip stones in ravine
everything’s too loud even when the volumes negative three
nothing we do can salvage this irreparable dream
que pena me da, que lo tienes sentir
shouted at you to leave, as i whispered the please

fötter day

you can hear the…

suburbia chime, zirconia vertebrae. pearly white spine
glass thrown in stone houses, regular suburbia night
whirring, rewind. chronicled childhood in olive drab paint
monocle glass. wormwood and bottles of shawshank.
dissolute solitude, wanderer who wallows in maze
en route. delay for tomorrow. never promised today
virgin diary. anne frank. marie curie disease
tinture of rainbow, even if the distance is blurry to me
he, who knows the way to zihuatenejo.
furlough father. demand you to die when i say so
26 pesos what’s left in your wallet
lint and mothball, merryland. experiment omelette.
laundromat arcade quarter exchange
2 o clock shadow of death and follicle strain
these boulders were supposed to be gone when i got here
you shouldered me off. sunday morning penny loafer with frost
social commentary gabriel-lucifer talk
metamucil, retrograde. jupiter star
bolivian roast, oblivion, and a toast goes to mars
you hold my hand; but i don’t even know who you are
shout at me when indoors, but whisper weak when afar
im so close to eroding, skin growth, barely a scar
in my house; the big wolf. lungs pulse til’ exhaustion
i read a suicide note from the ghost in my closet
i dont know, if he knows if this apartment is haunted
by patriarchal pettiness, reminiscent negligent heart
maleficent maligned distant/forgot insidious offspring
with ammunition in their lips, that keep you off guard
feel the metacarpal love letters til your fingers fall off
once you step out the door, you hear the wooden creak in the floor
fell asleep at the creek daydreaming before
everytime before bed i hear footsteps coming from deep
and i hide in my closet, until they delete
REM hits me while I’m counting my sheep
counting rosary beads for every step wolf takes towards me
like neighborhood freeze tag, counting to 3
dysfunctional beings, huffing in suburbia breeze
i know that i know nothing is in love when i speak
into denizens, the medicine cabinet creaks
when you close it and i haven’t heard it in weeks
form bourbon, to curtains burnt at the seams
I’m so close to being the opposite of perfect, i scream
what emerges, a bird sits perched in a tree
what alerts him is
suburbia breeze

July 19th, 1991.

all little boys need father figures

not to be normal, or not to be sane. You wouldn’t turn on a lightswitch without seeing where all the conduits placed. You grow up with a fist full of hurt. A surge, like a missile, without hearing a ‘miss you’. But one thing is certain, nothing makes you question your integrity more knowing that your very existence is burden. You’re a burden to breathe. I was just a curious boy. Curious George. Curious Cristian. Tried to talk to friends, but the look on their faces. It hurts just to listen. A burden. “How about a counselor?”. Yeah, I know the in-and-outs. I’m a soldier. Here take my money, let me cry in your shoulder. How do you plant your feet in the mud? And how do you turn your feelings to comfort? And how do you know what you’re feeling is real and isn’t some misguided daydream, cause you’re weak, and well – younger. I’ve broken off my hearts pieces asunder. endured the most embarrassing trial and error in the world to learn how to speak to a lover. It sucks. Questions I wanted to ask. Questions that needed answers. How do you express greediness more than leaving a son? Upset cause I proceeded to ask ’em. On the cusp of 24 without never really knowing how it is to have one. Just shells of people that didn’t want to take up the task. Another week is another meek undercover. Another daydream took a plunge. Now all i wanna do is scream. I want to go into the streets and scream ’til I don’t feel any nothing. ‘Til I summon beams full of thunder, till I shutter streets full of anger. ’til my fucking teeth shatter and bust into a dozen pieces of rancor. ‘Til you see a fucking beast take refuge on the streets with an anchor, and he won’t leave til sun-up and sunsets over under. ‘Til you fucking learn my motherfucking pain isn’t something to play with, motherfucker. There’s a bloodbath of ink on this pale sheet. I’m on a smooth pace of spilling, a new space and ceiling. Its a tragedy that I had to reduce my father figure into newspaper clippings. How my favorite ballplayer scored 30 points. There’s a new wave of emptiness intended for millenials
and I write most of everything in metaphors. Soft explanations. so the interpretation gets lost in translation, cause as long as I know what I meant. Your misconception is void, cause I felt those words when I wrote them. 100 years from now when I’m gone, children in classrooms will be dissecting my verses. With no intention or purpose. I scribbled them into quotes. A message deployed. Through rejection. Through rage. Through an affectionate ploy. An inception became a reflection of my own inevitable pain. Cause remember, for everything set in stone, there’s a knife where the edges are frayed. Irreverent. Sane. I clutch an invisible pendant made out of being ashamed. Every individual second is captured in a thousand frames. And those frames are just lost, they never see light. They’re just gray. There’s a judge that looks exactly like me, handing out a sentence in vain. Bail is set at impossible, and the bailiff is me too. At my funeral, I want Beethovens 5th set as the prelude. Every physical sentence I mash out is obsession. I’ve invented the abstract. & what’s next is a flash. I sit alone at the dinner table, 3 hours past supper. Spinning my index finger in the red wine, staring into the glass, as if it’s gonna stare back up. Every masterpiece I created is crap. And my own perfection is lackluster. I don’t know. I’ve been so hard on myself, that the quality is starting to lack. Quantity takes its place to tackle an impossible task. Ive’ tacked on a badge of honor; madness bottled up, swallowed up by a flask of somber.

I already know what you’re going to say before you say it. it’s non euphoric. and even if I were to become complacent, it would be out of boredom. What a soreness to wake up out of touch with the world. Like yeah, I see your pain, and I raise you my void. I’ve coughed blood into buckets. I’ve sung songs that have trumpets. It’s better to have love lost, than to, fuck it. Making people laugh is a drug and I love it. And then I run out of punchlines, and realize my life was it. Feeling implicit. Two decades confined to fetal position.

alma

Look,

now over a half of my sentences begin with a sigh
intentions. I’m defective, so infectious inside
pretending to cry isn’t a problem when it rains
it only becomes a problem when it stops

but,
Used to looking down, when things aren’t looking up
1 day my life’ll flash before my eyes;
not sure that flash is good enough
ive been given a gift to write every moment as happened
except with more details and girth, more exposure. more factors
more fractions of seconds, all malleable sections
what good is words from wise men, when the one who told the parables dead
used to it not going my way, so i’d go in my journal and write
to make sense of what happened, to an essay i eventually tore up outta spite
i inherited words. characters without a characters worth
a curse interacted within variables. hurt
unfurling course of action given its insatiable thirst
maneuver like van gogh through jupiter on mercurial etchings
to live frozen in time as a painter of the worlds most peculiar settings
to see beauty in carnage, objectify tragedy as a series of concepts
intensify the nefarious. sifting through the nucleus’ carwreck

Don’t you get mad when there isnt’ a word that encapsulates your thoughts? So you write sonnets and songs, and poets and hymns, haikus and shit just to sorta capture it all?

sigh. the streetlight kissed your eyes & created an impression so pure.
its whiteness
i bring this up, bceause I fell in love by remembering my reflection off your iris.
expression in its highest form, sensory designed to cure, destinies arrived.
analyzed the sculpture, of course. – then vandalized your structure
leaves falling aimlessly, in it’s phantom-like flutter
randomized in the sputter of it all, only to capture geometry
if love reaches new heights this colloquys written in masterful mountains
parallel streets, architecture of houses, potential surrounding of impeccable scenery only strengthened and balanced, by the powerful breath breathed into me, when your mouth pressed out in between, the sound effect of the pucker so loud, so vehemently i remember a shroud of evenly distributed, heavenly eloquence – where blood cells held an exodus to swell in the realm of my lips
visited palace of hymns, where people would sing forever
rectify the devilish sin, held in the pits that existed cus’ well- we relished in them
to intensify my sensory limits, so inexplicably wicked, touching a galaxy
lungs breathing love, lost & found, but what were we hide and seeking from?
under an elm. deciduous. it was funny, cause that’s when i decided.
where the brushing of wind from Sandy slighted me above the stratosphere
we’re out of here, cusp of your hand became the new life vest where if it rained, i knew right then, to hang by you, to clutch, til’ the waves subdued in horizons
hell- bent over control of my conscious like i poured everything, and stanzas decomposed into options
the perfectness? prose couldn’t match with it
gravity didn’t have an emerging role in this drama and thesis
portrayed through my soul cus i swear it rose.
and nirvanas capricious
picture a boat, now picture it floating without water beneath it
still rocking along the coast, unbeknownst to a force that governs its beaches
once I pulled you close to me, and spoke in a manner, boldly enamored
dissolving distraction, your hips close to me, after.
it was poignant i told you to kiss me, with the grip of your jeans intervening & lingering memorizing the seams, & create macrocosms just between what I felt in my fingertips
elevate my scarlet shard.
that’s the end of discussion i could feel the eruption of your blushing, emanate my arctic heart
hurricane winds made you clutch your arms in defensive posture
this next sentence is a toss up, between a metaphor for intensive form or comparing your sensual heart hugs to a tropical storm
loveboat wasnt enough to capsize in waves of charm
awestruck.
star-studded raindrops baptized our naked arms
established an anomaly so vastly diverse; i could only deduce it in calculus version
gauge the geometric perversion & argue that it was mathematically perfect
and by that?
I came to animate, inanimate objects abstract art splattered paint so simple, my only explanation is that it had to be complex

my last shot, i swear, man.

Sweared it’s my last shot. Promised it was. It was the electric flow to my conduits buzz. Been left alone, shadow unfollowed me. but, I got 40 ounces that say I’ve done everything but bottle it up. Hairs falling out, play a game, (because I’m so ugly, I’m fucking shot.) Count the follicles, ‘she loves me……. she loves me-not’ Proudly logical. Gladly pick you apart. Sadly, and single handedly pulling the strings from your heart. Stitching compartments, living fancy. livid and darkness. Living apartment, shelling angry, felt the shift in you when I put my fist through the door.   Sometimes, I listen to the pauses you take, the breaths, and silence in every word set astray. I don’t listen to you, or me when I talk, it decays. I just change my demeanor, and dock. It’s okay. It’s a struggle between me and my ego. A masturbation, heat sensing. I’ve feel in love with the inaudible between the masqueraded pretenses. I lost track of the bridges I burned.

Explosives can be a growth experience

tired of decomposing, dried up, my dreams are dozing
my body has peaked the opus, through godly retreat.
I hope. trying to feel a pulse, pariah that feels opposed
pinching my gripe, controlling. picture my mind in solace
pitching and writhing, gritting and grinding my teeth to focus
witch-doctors reveal a poem, my palms have been reading growth
exhausted. my beings broken. loathe signs that concede to smoke
I need the tar to feed compulsions. exhaust that secretes emotions.
tyrants as deacons, posing; goliath as people cloaking
a lion in sheeplings clothing, a tiger that feels repulsed
about the lines that he sees his coat in. why do i feel insulted
sonnets revealed in quotient, to qualm this conceited ghost
but while i sleep, i know that, the mind is a demons crows nest
fire that feeds ferocious, piles of sheathed explosives