Tore

connectivity. divulge all your hidden secrets and show me through the hightened catastrophe. wake. the absolute soon meet the intention. running on butterfly wings. heartbreak atrophy. solidify the unpresidented moment into crystaline fevor. i can hear the strings in my mind. and of talk easy flashing in garish neon lights.

Cotton Candy, Pops, and Caramel Popcorn

Holiday pastures and moonlit brilliance. it seems that nothing ever stays the same. we all want to think that we've made a difference in life, in the world, in people. we all want to be remembered one way or the other. people who became infamous are just runner ups, never really, officially, making it to the big leagues. known but not loved. or is it more loved by few, hated by all? Im not leaving until rain stops knocking on my windows. cant let it in. cant let it take me. there's something too personal, being in the rain. i cant stand it when it touches my face, taking liberties with its cold caress. it feels like death. stealing all my warmth one centimeter at a time. I used to love rain. i remember i would run out in my shorts and overgrown shirt just to bathe in its warm waters. but that was another life, another continent. I remember trying that here, the first time i saw rain. i froze my ass off. nothing is ever quite the same as we remember it. I never understood why rain was cold here, until i was eight years old I never even thought of another alternative anywhere else in the world other than warm, no biting wind, rain. snow was a foreign word to me. I thought of it as clouds drifting down like softly padded shooting stars. snow was for the children in Disney movies making snow angels and morbidly obese snowmen and women with snow children, sticks, buttons, scarves, hats and carrots and bits of clouds- seemed easy enough for me.

Strawberry Avalance.

holes in the wall
lets all peel back that white-
plastic paint
feeling whole and sweet like suede .
bite into that pretty pink, pale peach
and tell me its secrets.

ive gone insane.
picking at little-little things
lets all sit and look up in the sky
and watch as clocks
fall to a stop.
lend me some time-
just a little bit more
and i'll prove lions do exist.

in this concrete jungle
where we swim through air,
avoiding collisions as we go
puffing bubbles as we go
jet on by.

lets swim in the ocean in the sky
watching pretty pink balloons
smoking pretty pink cigars
puff puff puffing as we fly

puff puffing, reaching high

Coy.

promissory notes
how early did we have to be
feel that hunger, thirst, that pain
That there's nothing at all to gain

Fluttering eyes and swaying hips
feel my warmth, watch move my lips

Barely Alive.

The sky is falling and i could care less
i found something good
and vaguely familiar
in such an unexpected place

cling to the floors to stop from falling
im falling up
upwards in the sky
while everything falls around me

he found something good
and hauntingly similar
so much for class
brought together by the thread
we chose to cling to

waste time, nothing like the end
to start some beginning
unknown from the start
we cling like parachutes
while we fall
up
up
up in the sky
while everything falls around us.

-ist.

ambiguous in everything but want. we deserve whats comming to us. transparency in every level, clicking glass feeling grass, sand, sticks, bushes and stones. unwarranted, unknown coheasion.

Oh the things we've become...

shining glorious nothingness
is this what we've always wanted?
I dont remember the time
when i thought it would
one day, come to this