part i (aka roses) (dec13)

all i draw is flowers because flowers are beautiful and I wish to be too

and if this pen etches in the paper hard enough maybe my hand will get some of the flowers loveliness and even as my thin fingers throb and burn i’ll be smiling because pain is beauty

Part1

part ii (aka walk on the wild side) (feb14)

I WENT TO THE BIG CITY TODAY AND TRAVELED THROUGH THE LAND OF HORSES CRIED MY WAY THROUGH THE GREEN GRASS THE GUNSHOT ECHOED IN THE CHILL OF THE CONCRETE ALLEY AND THE ANGRY MOB BURNED ME AT THE STAKE I DONT THINK IM COMING BACK ANYMORE IVE SEEN EVERYWHERE AND EVERYTHING TODAY AND IT IS NOT SAFE DO NOT LEAVE HOME DO NOT STAY HOME DO NOT PASS GO

 

part iii (aka mall goths) (oct14)

We are in the Part3black ice

And I can feel the earth from across the street

You cried like the Titanic when you broke my heart on the mezzanine

There’s so many of those cobweb kids that I can’t see the sun

Just letting you know

I never cried when you held my face in your hands

It was just the rain

But can they feel my aura through their kiosked dark shades?

 

part iv (aka misshapes) (jul15)

Take me round Water Tower Park

And lay with me on the grass while we sing a tune about all the people

And look at the stars

(I can’t keep standing around)

You’re so easily offended when I tell you that the moon shines brighter than the sun

There is no key with you

Everyone else just mimes along

(I can’t keep hanging around)

I opened your diary and all your emotions were blacked out

I wanted to tell you of the truth of words

But I knew you would go on about art being synonymous with suffering

I only ever drew fields

(I’m not gonna keep running around)

Part4

part v (aka thee only one) (oct15)

Wanna live life in the second person

More psychological thriller, less teenage dirtbag

Wanna see it all end well

You’re the only one who ever seems to notice

For now, I whistle my day away with a care in the world

It has become too much for me to sing

part

vi (aka kid gloves) (nov15)

there’s nothing ever wrong in the ivy but when i see my reflection in the grass i peer the facade of your

disapproval in the dirt i wanted you to want me so i trapped myself in a white box and tied my hands behind my back white is the shade of purity and i don’t want to soil it with my physical reverie yet i recalled the graying of your hair and thought on how i have woven myself in the webs of callowness

part7part vii (aka feel like you) (jan16)

on the day of the new year you passed

two places ahead of me

freedom has a price and i’m

paying in gold

we’ll drink a toast to your naivete

and then toss all our fate into the late winter breeze

that’s what you would have liked us to do

purveyor of stereotype and complement

 

part viii (aka farewell my love) (feb16)

Paint the boulevard blue so my mother will not cry when we are on our way to the sea.

The good salt water already surrounds us. We are set adrift before we can set sail and

The shapes of the false waves will sweep us over and lead us to the everlasting home above the ocean.

 

part ix (the end has no end) (?)

I will tell you the story of something only because you beckoned me at your dying hour:

As the tears dripped into the sea,

a nobody sat on the edge and tried to grasp for their windswept dreams.

a nobody with a name

-Do you know that it was you who was just as apologetic with a sword at the tip of your tongue?

Or should I just have waited until you were gone?

March 26, 2016