Road to Joy.

The ones you care about most will always let you down the hardest. My teeth collide with the curb as your words hit my ears and swim inside my brain fluid, corroding it.

No one ever plans to sleep out in the gutter, sometimes that's just the most comfortable place.

It Always Steals Away.

We become more complex with time. Simplicity escapes us as soon as it can. For some I hope it stays.

Lay Low

Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold.
Eight.

Black Cab.

What is this constant ache?

So wrap me in your marrow, and stuff me in your bones.

The serenity of solitude has slowly turned into the sickness of solitude that slides in through my skin. The weight of a hundred seconds turns my head. The strain of a day curls my fingers. Reminders plant themselves along my path like bombshells planting themselves in my brain stem. Washers for sale on the side of the road without their dryers. Eating peanut butter sandwiches. Eraserless pencils. Left shoes without the right.
So I spend my days listening; to music that rips my ears off their hinges.
So I spend my days watching; movies that tear me from inside out.
So I spend my days reading; books that turn my eyeballs to mush.
So I spend my days cleaning; unconsciously searching for the second: the solution.

We'll Give Ourselves New Names

Ink stained fingers and a love stained heart pleasantly plague me tonight.
My lack of accomplishment of simple tasks such as el boligrafo esta aqui is the most of my worries.
Radiohead echoes from behind the mesh as I purse my lips, trying to mimic the words.
The moment, in the moment is real. The moment, in this moment is true.
It's real and true.
I'd like to share it with you.

Ice Monster

You have such an abundance of ignorance and it's beginning to seep out of your eyelids, down the bridge of your nose, and onto the once pure undergrowth. You have such a depletion of consideration, your lips are crumbling to dust and your fingernails are curling beneath your cuticles.
Maybe your concern for such things as the bottle and the bowl will eventually drown you then smother you in your own sins.
Seems as if I must result to scraping your scum off the bottom of my boots.
Your pathetic excuse for a brain doesn't function to average ability. If it did, you'd catch this hint, just like an AIDS infested whore catches a cold.

Lovers Who Uncover

I'm turning over a new leaf.
My crumpled, browning one is getting whisked away in the November wind.
I'm anticipating this bud I have at my fingertips. It trembles with excitement while I breathe to feed it's glory. It's enticing in every aspect of its being.

In relation to you; you're in relation. Improper uses of semi-colons and feelings are my specialty. Improper uses of actions is yours. Congratulations in failing life.

Third, foremost, and sore most, exhaustion seeps through my marrow. I need something to send pulses to my ligaments and tendons and create a new growth inside my mind.

Touch Me I'm Going to Scream

As I cautiously avoid your name on my page, I glance again and again at that picture frame. With its scratches, chips, nicks and bumps, it's characteristics create history and charm. Could it be true that even though many pictures of many faces may pass through it, the picture of the face that was there first is the most important?
I apologize if these ramblings aren't creating anything coherent. Although I know one thing, and that is that I'm missing it. Unfortunately missing it.

I need to follow your example. I need to buy a new frame, and fill its corners with pictures of new faces. A frame with no scratches, chips, nicks, or bumps. A frame with no existent history, no charm. A frame that we have to build the personality for. I need to build.