The Dreaming Shows Good Things.

Love is the little dry leaf

Inside your desk

Where a folded tissue accompanies

Other motley assortments

That you possess.

You've creeped into my morning dreams. Is this a sign? I'll let that pass for now.

- I've decided to leave the door ajar. You could be entering or leaving, as long as we're moving onward, forward. Yes? Because only now do I see some faint distinction between love and relationships. Some misconstrued conversations and several nights later, I've decided to leave the door ajar, so you could do with me as you please. Because only now do I see that I'm in love, not for the first time, no, but there's something here I would like to watch transpire. Strange morning dreams indicate happiness if I'm reading them right. And you, you knowitall God of all things, you I shall worship from my own brittle pedestal of steel. Because only now do I see the truth in your words. The truth that I see falling from the evening skies outside our home. This is meant to be.

Why not, right?

Hungry days and Horny Nights

I see you

Perched precariously

On a little gargoyle

Seamlessly floating

Against the blue blue wind.

If you were a canvas, I'd paint you foreverblue and throw in some fevicol for effect.

I see you

Hourglass in hand

Eyes shut to the dreaming

Drowning

In the blackness that is your soul.

And a single flame burns, while I wait, night after crimson night, songs falling from a listless heart.

I see you

Flailing body, swaying

To a rainy beat

Pitter patter

Your feet tremble.

Aren't we lucky you have a magic wand that goes pop?

I see you

Peeping in from the other end

Of your skewed pair

Of looking glasses

Pensive and brown

And I pretend to not watch when you're dying in your box.

Keys and Stones.

I'm going to move into my own apartment in two weeks and there's no better feeling, really. Nevermind that it's far, far away where you can see the sky for as far as you'd like and there are bullock carts instead of cars. And nevermind that my friends will be on the other side of the city and I'll probably never get to see them. I'll have my own house with a kitchen and a bathroom with a shower and everything. And nothing will ever be borrowed again.

To new roads, cheers.

Anonymous

i want to fade into the nothingness

that is amnesia.

erase the mistakes. write over them.

or get a mask.

i

am tired of waiting

for things to happen to me.

i

want to break

free.

hide and then seek

you.

i need a new name

so they cant trace their lives

back to me or us or them.

but

here i am

waiting

like a tree

thats stuck to the ground

and can only reach for the sky

that's always

going to be a tad too outta reach.

fuck.