for the birds

kindling starts a fire's light;

it blew out years ago.

i jumped into the burning pit;

dead seeds I had to sow.

drawn-out days were fiery hot,

life let the fire go.

raindrops fall on smoldering,

as to forget the glow.

strong wind blows- a sudden gust,

now caught in the downflow.

at last those embers reignite,

it's time to intergrow.

rekindling spawns a brighter light,

pretending to have a hydrostatic skeleton

to fit in boxes, creases, and camouflage

instead, i broke my bones, twisting, turning,

my essence boiling over in every way,

bulging out everywhere i

tried

to

fit.

More than a beak is hard, rigid,

my tentacles coiling around every surface,

back round to myself

suckers clung tight, crushing to make myself small.

the grip on my flesh is weak, connection lost,

slipping, failing, sliding,

slick as oil.

three hearts, nine brains, copper blue blood,

still colorblind, despite the blinding light.

obsessed with tight spaces, but also escape

to set myself free from seeking novelty

i'm leaving the ocean trenches for land

absorbing the clear day's oxygen through moist skin

a phoenix rising from the ashes

if it’s burnt to the ground?

we all know miracles don’t happen

i’m living amongst the soot

digging in the piles

becoming one with the rubble

searching for my treasure,

my greatest love.

i think they’ve gone,

floating along with the wind.

and i’m left behind

with grime on my face,

a chasm in my chest,

and anchors in my soul.

i missed the boat,

no water to clean my hands.

the dirt under my nails

is permanent, isolating

angel wings on your back

the smiles on your chest

willing her to breathe it in.

catching in her teeth,

floating through the air,

implanted in her brain.

the windows to your soul,

each one unique,

she can’t resist to be a peeping tom.

looking in,

losing herself

to your spirit and whimsy.

your hands and stature,

look smaller, yet are larger

than life

they loom over her being

she succumbs to the power,

effortlessly, breathlessly,

you roll around my mind

an allergy,

dandelion seeds on the breeze

floating away.

pollen in my sinuses

the post-nasal drip of my past

haunting me at every turn

you’ve never left my cavities

sick,

sick and tired.

the asphyxia catching up to me.

a common theme, in these words

the sense of hopelessness

never better explained than

when one describes the loss of ability

to breathe.

everything too thick,

and me, with no knife to cut through

everything that stands in my way.

i will drown here, in this whirlpool

the desire, the longing

swirls between the trees

of the body, of the mind

hanging in empty spaces

like dense mist

the thick humidity,

unable to breathe

damp, all-encompassing

invisible, yet damaging

as real as grass,

as heavy as rain

pelting like hail

creating dents, holes

in the (sub)consciousness

you’re getting attached, hopes high.

brain like an abstract painting.

Reel it in, reel it in.

the minute you feel secure-

you are sure to be abandoned.

you already feel it happening.

preserve yourself.

wrap yourself up tightly-

in saran wrap, a ziplock bag.

maybe something stronger, darker.

what is it to be desired?

i fear i'll never know

fully and completely?

those seeds will never sow.

drowning in the loneliness

i swirl and swirl away.

falsehood comes to search for me

i can't come out to play.

then i glance up at the sky

still longing for something

after all that's come to pass

to hopes and dreams i cling.

within me lies a greater fool

a paradise he craves

darling, if you only knew

posting fragments everywhere

digital breadcrumbs will lead you to

the wasteland in my soul

the bottomless pit of stagnancy

i live in every day

i grow larger but inside me grows smaller

wasting away on the inside, eroding

turning into dust, lost in despair

air so thick i can barely move my body

control intangible

wailing in the breeze until it’s nothing but

a whisper,

failed post

the situation congeals

every time we let it sit.

we abandon it, pretend

we will throw it away.

instead, we always return

add water, add heat, stir

until it seems smooth.

the boat tips, and the truth,

it’s revealed.

curdled chunks sully the plate.

we stand dumbfounded-

how could this happen?

yet we had the recipe

all along

we had the tools

to guarantee it kept

and yet,

i am tired.

sleepless, sleepless.

the thick white blanket covers the true state of affairs.

ive ran too hot for that reprieve my entire life.

they have the privilege of wandering in a haze

with a stupid smile plastered

across their cracking faces;

rather cold-blooded for 98.6 degrees.

the skin flakes off, and underneath

where it should be red and wet,

there is nothing but a solid void-

an oxymoron most blinding.

id cower in fear if i had the ability;

however,

i stand and applaud, jealous of what i'll never have

the level of ignorance

that allows they. them. you.

to float around

despite the thousand-pound weight

that should be dragging

everything,

everyone,

is it normal to feel guilty the more normal you feel?

you feel somewhat good

you feel somewhat tough;

life feels somewhat manageable

so far removed from your misery

and yet

you look down and realize

youre still struggling in that very same quicksand

you’re still miserable

it’s still a part of you

there is no escape

you just learn to stay afloat just enough

to feel that “normal”

but you’re forever fighting

a drag back down

doomed to stand in a single place for eternity

and then you feel stupid for feeling guilty for feeling normal

because it was all something you made up

i don't understand your endgame

i don't understand what you wanted/want/will want

i don't understand the spell you cast

floating around on your bullet

careening into the unknown and yet

certainty of being?

do you feel better?

with that power you think you have

roaring, rumbling, sputtering

between your legs?

it's a ploy and a song and a shout

is it really assistance you want

when it's obvious your only goal is to wallow?

dont drown in the gasoline, the blood,

the lighter fluid, the spit,