Frightened.

Sand dribbles from my clenched fist, running though the tiny rivulets and creases in my hand.

Minuscule rocks tumble to the ground.

I wish I could live in music. I think my life would be so much better if what I called home was the cradle of a soft, lulling flat sign in a song, rather than this shitty, fucked up bubble that prevents me from achieving my potential. Chains.

I hope it's everything I hope it to be.

Sighing songs from sad, little, twinkling stars make the trees weep.
Weeping willows already exist.

And it all seems so silly.

I can't take this anymore. I can't fucking take it.

Amid the falling snow, I catch glimpses of something beautiful. I can't quite see. Who the hell can see forever?
These little birds love the white sounds emitted from clouds. Chirp chirp.

Dreams are easy to achieve if hope is all I'm hoping to be.

Antisepholes.

Please remember me. Remember me when I'm dead and gone underground. When I've faded from each singular soul's mind. When my stain fades from the human lace entirely. Please. I'm begging you.

One cold, wintry, blisteringly frigid day, I'll take you there. I'll shock and awe and amaze you. It's an awful, flickering, terrible, beautiful sight.

That place where the cool, green waters cause the golden empyrean kingdom to droop and the shivery, cold, dank earth to rise up.

And thus, I go to the place where the water makes the heavens and the earth collide.

And it's a sad place. I'm all alone there. It's cold.

And everything there seems to represent my existence, for better or for worse?

I stand beneath a cherry tree -- naked, bare, exposed. I reach out to touch a blossom and I detonate in a mixed cavalcade of emotion. It manifests itself in cherry blossoms. And I fall to the damp soil, pretty in pink. A thing of the most bizarre nature. Of the most peculiar stature.

Please forgive me. I apologize if I took up too much of your time.

Untitled #5

Fuck you for doing this.

Fuck you for all the photographs you won't burn.
All the digital images you won't erase.
Trapping us together like rancid breath in a fucked up, snaggletoothed mouth.
Each photo a jagged, twisted, painful

memory.

Fuck you for calling us significant others.
Let's just say we were lovers and get the fuck out.

Fuck you for leaving me every morning.
I'd fall asleep with you
and wake up in the company of ghosts.

Fuck you for the things we did and didn't do.

Fuck you for every convoluted sunset.
Every cloud torn asunder by your love. How fucking romantic.
I'm under that same sky.
Those same stars.
And I hate it.

But most importantly, fuck you for loving me.
Fuck you for giving me everything.
For letting me give you everything.
There's one thing that I want to say, so I'll try to be brave.

Love is nothing but time and a friend that you lose. You expected it to be more.

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save.
Fuck you. Fuck you for everything.

and i love you.

Drift.

I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.

I feel like I'm waiting for something that will never come.

This turns to that, and other eloquent phrases.

BOOM.

i wish i could help you, sad eyed girl. brown eyed girl. i can't. you seem happy. but i don't think you are. how could you be?

and i wish i could fill you up with air and lift you off your toes and fill you up with happiness and give you everything you want so you'll be happy

and then they'll be nothing left of me and i'll just

float
away

like puffs of a dandelion weed.

like bits of a dream.


i wish i could help you, mister mystery. you deserve so much, and you have a lot, but the one thing that you treasure the most, that you value with all of your being, that one little spark that people search for all of their lives, it's fading

and
i
can't
help
you.

i'm not supposed to. it's just not how it works. it's not like i could really do anything.

is it?

could i?

could i fill you up with happiness and wonderment and make you see everything for what is it, and maybe more? could i give you all that splendiferous awe and amazement at the beauty of life? but it's not your fault. no, it really isn't. but maybe if i try really hard, i can give you something

and maybe that something will fill you up and let me down and i'll

just
float away.

like magic dream bits.

like puffs of a cloud.

and i'm trying.
oh i'm trying and it's so hard it's apparent that i'm trying but trying only gets you so far

and maybe someday i'll finally

float


away...

Eternity.

and i'll just keep going and going until everyone i love is dead.

Change.

I've started a photo blog. We'll see how this works out.

Here's a link.