I’m drowning in your eyes.
It gets deeper, each moment
Splitting seconds
Dropping the hour glass-
Into a black hole….

Warmth spreads.
A blanket of security
Pulsating-
Like a sunset over the ocean.
As far,
As wide,
As strong,
..I can feel you inside

The focus changes.
A narrow angle
Shutter-
Fade
As the box closes….

I can breathe again


Please open your eyes


I need the strength to survive

Quotes from Sarah Kane plays:

"You've fallen in love with someone that doesn't exist"

"Now I have found you I can stop looking for myself"

"If I die here, I was murdered by daytime television"

"Black snow falls

in death you hold me
never free

I have no desire for death
no suicide ever had

watch me vanish
watch me

vanish

watch me

watch me

watch


It is myself I have never met, whose face is pasted on the underside of my mind


Please open the curtains"

I suffer through this
Drifting among blasted plastic
As if the atmosphere is bleeding-
Blue lines
That touch too deep.
Like baskets,
Woven from the inside

I cannot breathe here.


You break me,

Dissolved from these acid words.


I suffer through this
Where apathy no longer has meaning
Picking apart my brain cells
As if popping bubblegum-
Fucking my eyeballs.

You have broken me
For the last time.

This hour glass contains
Heartless entropy.

I suffer through this
Only to find the emptiness
You contain….

And no longer will give to me

Distance magnetizes the moment
Breaching within my mind.

I promise to wander only so far,
Soo long…
Enough so I can run back.

Such as a broken rubber band,
this beautifies feelings
into material action.

Pieces float
Off waves.
A wire vibrates
As if I can sense the earth move
Shifting constellations into my eyes.
And each slowly burning out
Like a wish.

It’s gone

There is no glamour left

Surrounded by fear
I dance,
Creating flames of desire
An island
Which has formed inside of me.

It’s only a destination,
Something that has yet to be found.

I’m trying to remember
Where to begin

Your eyes are an unspoken credence
pale crystallized flourishing spikes.
watching memories stolen-
crumble
like innocence.

8 turns 18
as you fall down the stairs
blinking.
in this delicate breathing
you are no less beautiful
than you were before.

societal depth as circumference
the skin is breaking
a tree branch,
carved into boxes.

vision is nothing without power.
the blistering force
of tornadoes invade the unconscious
rearranging what little is left.

for a moment-
nothing.

your lids drop.

I try to remember,

yes

it was me

Pull the shadows from my skin
taking nothing out of something
as if a small child
uprooting a plant
too soon
from the depths of my brain.

swelling,
my eyes draw rain
deep as the bottom of the ocean.
as the viens curve down my neck
trying to plant myself
back inside.

Now I somehow know what it feels like
to be empty
without missing a piece.
to be broken
but already healed together.
and to be naked
inside layers upon layers
of heavy cotton.

this darkness
is talked about in stories.
but what they don't know...

..its been here all along

He told me to be passive aggressive
Holding a gun to my head.
I dropped
Tomatoes,
The seeds arraying into diamonds.
Like blood-
Oranges when punctured with a knife.

My nature was bruised,
I had nothing left
But millions of tears
Collected within leaves
Above my head.

The only support I had
Was the branch-
Holding me like a soldier
Passing weapons of fruit.

I reach into the golden sky,
Shuffling around the hope
Trying to find the solution….

Grasping at things in this world
Can only yield two results:
Life or death.
I have chosen something more.

You stole my words
Like a slender kiss upon my skin.
A Fabrication of my memory
Of love.
I remember you,
But only the way you moved
Each finger down my neck,
Fishing for my heartbeat.
An echo
Canvassing the distance
A million miles
To-
the next breath.



I read your lips
Like sign language
Spun between my hips.
We run far enough
To find that
We are back-
Stealing words
Such a dance we have learned
Too many times.



I wait,
The distance strengthens
As our words drown into
One another.
No longer can you steal
Something that joined
Our soul.

Sometimes I look around and see all the stereotypes of my generation.

In a local coffee shop, I like to watch college students.

One is the typical annoying girl, talking very loud, using many hand gestures, and very, very insecure. She is having a colorful conversation with an Asian American, whom, one can easily tell was adopted by some rich white family out of pity. And yes, I am making this assumption because two tables up are two real Asians, talking only with themselves. Behind me are the artistic types. You know, the ones who work minimum wage jobs, and complain about the 50’s and 100 dollar bills they have break. Discussing which upcoming movie they should see because it is supposed to be the next hip thing.

Then there is the fat girl talking to the happy couple. You can tell that the whole third wheel is getting to her, as she pretends to enjoy her moments in conversation. She secretly wants the guy across from her, but he is too shallow to see her true beauty.

And gracefully is the musician, going from table to table listening to stories, looking at old pictures, planning his life as the attractive man with mediocre guitar skills. He is a natural blonde; never see them get into any trouble in Hollywood.

Then there are the two that say nothing, just checking their cell phones periodically in a trance. The all black attire works for Goths; I don’t think it does well in this sense.

Each states that they should not eat, but does anyways. Bone thin, waiting to sneak back to the dorm room and purge silently while listening to an ipod. Giggling, the retro tight black pants squeeze more brain cells loose, as there fingers do the walking into an elaborate text message. All of a sudden, one looks angry when making a phone call. The serious face, the popped out eyes and the rising volume trigger me to look away. Making eye contact is forbidden…maybe my generation has changed.