exposing frozen soldiers

Exposing frozen soldiers

An explosive

Agent Orange cohort,

stuck in second hand rumors

Tucked into bookshelves

Shoved under the covers,

And folds of the newspaper.

Scream to me your misery

Let me scream that we’re all fucking suffering honey.

To different degrees, but sincerely.

Pop me bottle caps

Can’t have a stance on a decision

You’ve left yourself to make,

Like a bed full of broken dreams

And such blood stained sheets.

Fill the streets of my lungs

With the sewage you can’t spill elsewhere.

We’ll call it collateral damage.

The pain of knowing life

The knowledge, the fucking struggle.

I’m tangled, untangle me.

The knowledge, the fucking struggle.

I’m tangled, untangle me.

Drip like drops

All the honey you can salivate

And I’ll pretend it’s off limits.

Fuck stop signs.

Fucking dull blades of razors

I cut myself

Shaving.

The sight of real blood and the smell of cold coffee.

Savage analogies

Pick me some flowers goddamnit!

Leave them @ my future tombstone.

Say a future prayer, telling god how much

You future miss me.

Then time travel backward and cut off my legs.

And I’ll just chill wherever you’ve left me,

And bleed to death.

Calling out your fucking name

Like a promise you forgot to keep.

Bury me with what little mystery you can find.

Do not attempt to translate my freckles,

my scars, or my birthmarks.

They tell the tale of a man who wanted more for himself,

for everyone who had a hand in making him who he was.

They tell the story of a boy who climbed to the top of the tree

and wished so badly to just keep climbing.

They scream out the secrets of the greatest misunderstanding.

There’s truth, but you’re not having any

Reveal it to me.

The mirror’s been lying lately.

Show me a skeleton of who I really am and I’ll believe you.

Fly me a kite and I can finally bite my tongue and let out

The bees, from the hive they’ve built inside it.

They gave me a small neon OCCUPIED sign to put beside it

But I’m not sure where to plug it in.

I’m renting an apartment without outlets!

Too bad they’re not fireflies.

In stead they’re Frosted Chemicals

glistening beneath bright fluorescent light bulbs.

Like diamonds with their heads cut off

Or upside down roses in the box by the window.

It’s a rear view mirror desired by innuendo

It’s a fortune teller’s wishes

It’s a magician’s switch in the cellar,

that when flicked causes a nuclear disaster.

It’s unfortunate circumstances to have been dealt, really.

But if it’s in the cards..

Think of yourself at your happiest.

I’ll knock on the window and see if you can hear me.

Shoot your television.

Ragged bags of love letters sitting in your passenger seat

Please.

Keep reaching honey.    

But do so discretely,

Jesus, we got everyone in the place looking at us,

Asking questions. It’s contagious. It’s dangerous.

Save us!

Take us in busses, in an attempt to outrun the invaders!

I’ll only love you til sun beams shoot through the window.

And burn a smiley face in my pillow.

But I’m taking a pill for that now.

Pass me a handful of rubber bands

And hold your hands above your head

And we’ll attempt to assimilate that it’s raining rubber bands.

Stretching our imaginations if you will.

Make us a picnic and I’ll meet you on the bridge in a half an hour.

Sleep over lunchboxes left at houses of friends

Whose clocks don’t tell time, instead they tell you you look lovely.

He keeps his umbrellas in the front hall closet if need be.

We’ll only stay a couple of minutes, but if it suddenly starts to rain

I’m expecting you to steal one.

Before he sees you, I’ll take the clock off the mantel

And hit him over the head. And it will tell me I look lovely and I’ll

Replace it just as I found it and meet you on the porch,

You’ll be out there with the umbrella popped

and audibly blocking drops, we'll

Make a mad dash for the car to

Wash your stars and stripes,

And candy cane flavored microphones.

Frightful nightmares

Kept in several spiral notebooks

Under my mattress.

See what happens when it rains?

this one's more for me than her

My body feels better
after a night of remembering.

I almost look forward to the morning
checking for cuts and bruises,
tonguing my wounds,
ready to feel forlorn.
For I’m torn
between the idea of believing this
or dismissing your kisses as just
another effort to prove
you’re living in the moment.

All I can do is my best for you,
and if that means letting go
then consider my hands in my pockets.

When I’m up at night, stirring with the
sounds of the city, staring at the ceiling
from beneath my blankets,
wrapped like a cocoon around me,
I’ll do my best not to wonder what you’re doing
and wish you were there in that cocoon
the two of us
becoming butterflies.

I’ve subtracted myself back to zero again,
And you’ve left me with paper cuts I fear
will never heal.
So I guess I’m left with less than that with which I started.

I found the remains of your paper airplanes
crash landed on the roof outside my bedroom window.
And I should have known they’d be blank.
If I knew you at all I would never have thought them
to be anything resembling letters of love.
But I can’t seem to escape the idea of setting myself up to be
let down.

So I unfolded your origami
and surprise, surprise.

You’re nowhere I need you to be.
And you’re everywhere I’ve never though of looking.
Especially when I have finally decided that I’m not.
If there is indeed a plan,
then this poem must be a part of it.
You’re the best thing I’ve ever barely had
but I can’t go on pretending I’m ok with this.

A hummingbird’s heart beats ten times in a second
And I loved you like that.
The waves of the ocean are under the control of the moon
And I loved you like that.

But a band of angry sailors in matching hats and coats
Shake their fists to said ocean, telling it to quit its roaring
For it will never reach the moon.
And they are right.

So my waters are still.

You cannot love me like I love you
so I cannot love you.
But I can’t let go if you still have my collar
in your fists, your teeth in my lip,
let me be.

Let me sink.
Swallowed
to the bottom
for I’ve grown tired
of treading
in hopes of being rescued.

Night has gone
the sun is up
and I see that no one’s coming.      

today i saw a homeless man
with a shopping bag
full of bloody rags.

message in a bottle rocket written rescue me

black electric magic
static sugarcane and handjobs.
scratched back madly
leaving skin beneath the nails
colors blush when she comes.

i've learned to disguise myself as a weapon
only then can i comprehend the difference
between love and sunken friendships.
i'm a suffocating puppet master in the middle
of intermission

clinging to pillowcases
fighting the light as this heavy
hangover begins knocking at the
back of my skull.
i'd like to set fire to the walls around me
burn this mother down.

fuck you and your thick accent.
take this bowl of bruised fruit and do not talk to me. 
and when the flies begin to gather remember me rotting.

i'm sick of your lack of love.
i'm sick of the mess you've left us in.

this machine is out steam
i've lost gears and springs
amidst my trail of gasoline.
i beg you
flick your bic
this bird must land
defeated.

not yet too soon