if only

sometimes i wish i were a better person.

and in those times, i ask myself;

well i guess i don't know what i ask myself.

i just stare blankly into the mirror as i brush my teeth.

then the tears form.

it's a terrible day when you can't even face your own self.

so sometimes, i wish i were a better person.

and in those times, i tell myself;

"you may not want to brush your teeth today."

but i always do.....

a mild drug. "fuck you dr. suess"

give me one that's not insane
give me one who's good and plain.
maybe one who's nice and kind.
not the one's that have lost their minds.
give me one with a soul.
give her to me as a whole.
maybe one who's not insulting.
not the one's that live by flaunting.
give me one who's right for me.
half-insane and born in flames.
maybe i need them with half a mind.
and an empty soul that matches mine.

work

the beginnings of my very first book.

capsizing

the better half misses you without you being gone.

knowing in a short while i am having you cut from my life like a cheap fabric pattern.

imagining waking each and everyday without those eyes floating about until they catch mine unsettles each and every nerve.

i miss what is yet to be taken from me.

even the notion turns my stomach.

rising tides of bile churn away putting that rotten sickness in the pit of my gut.

then you pass by again and the waves subside, only for a moment until you are gone from my sight and the ocean breeze swells and i feel that slight sting building like a hurricane.

i have no shelter and this boat was never meant for sea worthy travels.

i can hear the waves crashing on the shores and the tide will never break.

stranded and capsizing.

muffled

i miss that warm feeling of a body being pressed against mine.

thin sheets falling into the nooks and crannies between our bodies and curled up limbs.

the glow of her skin as the first stream of light breaks through the blinds.

the millions of dust particles dancing gracefully through the air.

only to be caught for a split second in the beam of light breaking the darkness.

then off into oblivion.

the sound of her heart beating, muffled by layers of skin and bone.

just barely audible with and ear pressed tight against her breast.

the consistent rhythm of the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes through her dreams.

that soft warm bare flesh pressed against mine.

breathing in and out through those dreams.

lost dreams

i am beginning to fear the idea of the end of days is being played out to me in my dreams.

each time i fall head long into my dreams i met by close and personal friends, women i have loved, and select family members.

it begins much like any typical dream of reunion of lost friends and acquaintances does.

faces strapped with giddy smiles and glossy eyes.

small talk, chatting of years lost to time.

slowly but surely the mood begins to darken.

years of suppressed anger and jealousy bubble through one by one to the surface of the water to a slow rolling boil.

hateful words are thrown about freely.

fists fly like anviled butterflies.

and from this point on it becomes apocalyptic.

visions of tornadoes knocking on my front door.

i'm left devising ways to protect the seemingly innocent.

gigantic prehistoric birds ripped straight from the pages of a vonnegut novel roam the twisted and fiery skies.

what at first looks like a beacon of light sent from the heavens parting the clouds.

a ball of energy pulsates from the center of the beam and swells the sky. and the white beam strikes black and is surrounded by rolling balls of orange similar to a 10 ton atom bomb.

so much energy that even from viewing miles away you are pushed back by the breeze.

then the race begins amongst the hundreds of scrambling mice.

to "safe" and lowered grounds.

thoughts of jealousy are long gone, replaced by looming thoughts of survival.

and i'm thrown back to that beautiful harmless beam of light.

how peaceful and serene it made me feel.

the last words uttered by a woman in a red dress.

before the screams and profanity.

even during waking hours it resonates in my ears.

"it's god's cleansing touch."

god sure does have a funny way of cleaning up his mistakes.

a small child kicking and screaming amongst a warehouse ground scattered with toys.

smashing whatever may get in his way.

and he has decided to show me his temper tantrums in my mind's slumbering eye.

i can deal with thoughts of despair and destruction during the day light.

just leave my dreams be.

it's the only innocence i have left.

metronomics

it's amazing to me how sometimes it comes and goes as frequently as it does.
complete infatuation dissolves into that dull void.
that murky feeling creeps up on you and your interest weens.
your mind takes over and you begin to question each and every detail, every glance, every word muttered between quivery lips.
it has become a part of your cycle.
turning loads of laundry over in your mind.
the value of each step has been softened.
echos on wood floors replaced with muffled stiff feet.
that monotonous pattern tapping the needle of a metronome.
each click louder than the next, pounding a drum against your ear.
so you move in time with the beat and your interest wanes a little more with each swing of that arm.
a tick becomes a tock, then on and on.
i just want the motion to stop.
to cease.
leave me be in that time when there were no drums.
no metronome knew of my existance.
back when i only heard the beating of a heart muffled by bone, flesh, and emotion.