nini legs in the air.

you're a horrible man, macbeth.
and lady, you made him do terrible things.
you are no angel,
you no longer radiate the sun.
it is with disdain that we pass,
you wreaking the colors of a garbage can,
on different paths seperated from one.


and i know you're going to hate me for this.
but it's nauseating to look at, or even breathe in.
so try to understand that i am choking,
on spit, on blood, on tears. still,
i know you're going to hate me for this.

if you cannot walk twelve miles in the rain
to hold my hand from trembling,
you are not who i thought you were.
do not drag me.
do not tease me.
do not deceive me.
do not leave me.




and i want to die because of it, too.

#81

get it out of me, get it all out.
press my soul against the washing board and
pray that i'll be renewed;
something worth saving,
tucked neatly, or carelessly, in a drawer in the very least.
wring my skin
so to rid it from its stains of sin
and drain my tears to be lost forevermore.

but if you can't risk wasting the soap,
don't bother trying to salvage what's left of me.
think no more of me blowing in the wind happily.
you can find new things, save the old ones only for the memories,
and you might remember a day that i made you feel.
i feel all the time when you're swinging beside me.
but Karen always said you either live in love or in fear,
and i suppose the latter got the best of me.
i know this must be really hard for you.
it's okay, i knew all along it was too good to be true.


i know, I KNOW. i got my hopes up too soon,
held you too high up on that pedestool.
but i was surprised to see how easily you jumped.
i guess it's that i'm asking for too much.
is it? too much time wasted, waiting for me to catch up?
by all means, sir,
don't risk the soap if you don't see fit,
if these stains are too deep now to make it worth it.

don't ever assume you know everything.

'I didn't know you had it in you;interesting.'
But I know something you don't know;
I know more about the night.
Yes, I know how cold it gets when
children are tucked safely in bed,
how long the alley goes outside my window
and just how much the moon hates the earth.
It seems as though it's a leo,
stealing the spotlight away from us all,
making us all feel so intolerably small,
only sharing its light to point out our blemishes;
such a vein fettish it has.



No, I don't only speak of rainbows.
I do not think the world is a pretty place
and my mind does not run slow.
It races, lapping Seahorse atleast three times
before I've realized I'm racing.
I do not burn bridges; instead,
I let them melt away, like the snow on a january day,
and watch them fall to pieces and drip
through my hands and finger creases.
I walked through the dark with no hand to hold but my own,
Don't tell me I don't know these morose things I've known.

the hunt.

'don't put all your eggs into one basket.'
is what my mother always said.
she warned the unwise to keep their prizes
safely tucked into different nooks,
fill their libraries with different books,
with so many subjects and pictures that you could never
read them all.
but you would have them,
if only to have them,
if it meant a thing at all.

'loveless bedrooms filled with doom bring
silent heartache july to june.'


he stole her balloon, accidentally, of course.
but made her cry, nonetheless.
i told you to gather your gold
and wrap it in love
and give it to her to make her love you again.
lay, don't be crazy.
no one likes a dumb baby.

pulse.

but what if i took you away
from searching through the lincoln exhibit,
trying to find what you're looking for and told you,
LOOK AT ME.
i think you might still be upset that i stole you away
from admiring your tall brother,
your funny feet, your grand adventure.
and you wouldn't see me, standing in front of you.

'it's a only a lamppost!'
no, no can't you see?
that is so much more than just a light in the middle of the city.
how could you think it made things safer?

'It's Snowing In April!'
WHAT?
what are you fighting about?
you have nothing to fight about.
you have nothing to fight for.