The Second Adventure

Your eyes

Are the wings if we were birds.

In the end

The end will stay where it is

And you can go forward or backwards once you reach it

You can play the other characters

The kid has big teeth in a big mouth.

He grits them, head turned up

staring down.

The kid stares down too long.

I think his eyes are igniting flames on my clothes.

The kid is scary. He's big.

I don't want him on my team anymore.

The kid's mouth turns wide into a smile

and his nose crinkles up

as he snickers, walking away.

But the kid's ghost

stares down at me

I play with knives,

that's why they're on my floor,

gleaming in the closet's shadows.

I play with knives,

that's why my wrists and hands have cuts that zigzag,

and my shirts are darkened, stained pink, purple, and red.

I play with knives,

so don't use your fists for a knife fight,

don't grab me, bring me close,

because you might regret your choices.

I play with knives.

The screams tremble my gut

and make me throw up

feces on the cream tile.

I feel tears swell from under my eyes

Great giant feet

press into mud.

The hairs drip and droop with mud!

The giant smiles:

all his teeth are far apart!

The giant's eyes are a little crusty

in the corners that point to the bridge of the nose.

His skin is roughened, brittle calluses on almost everything!

He speaks:

Heaven's angels turned to demons

Now they circle in my brain

Pulling tissue from the corners

Eating up my emotional wherewithal

Smelling up the acid that's

been plugging up all the fresh air

No fresh air

Nothing but a rave.

I lean back and nod sleepily for the

I'm not trying to write about you

but you're a parasite

you show up even in dreams,

where I go to escape the fact that

I write about you unwillingly

I see your face in the other ones

I try to escape in vain

And, not to mention that despite all this fuss

I will never

see

you

BORING

Yeah YOUUU

she's the one I've been thinking of

what for

I keep drawing circles around the dot

but the circle never reaches it for

some reason

I would journey to the deepest part of you

if the hole in your chest could unravel and

reap your lover's being;

take me within your brightest novas,

always in your glance

pull your lover further

into those brilliant nights

over wet grasses, fingers warmer with

what flows through you.

My lover is your heart;

here, now, holding close your waist

my ears touch its echoes;

you speak, your bones shudder

and here, swelling on the corner

of every sidewalk

There are two types of happiness:

happiness now and happiness later.

of course, the better is happiness later

because happiness now makes you

very, very sad later

and happiness later

make you very, very sad

now.

it's funny how things work like that.

find me a solution to both, man

I always find a new way

to talk about the same things

do we all?

ah, how I wish

I could say something

that would certainly

change everything forever

if I could say it now

then immediately I should be removed

somewhere I can watch the changes

and have perspective

after all, that is one of the big

things I’d like to change: