fucking old ways
melting into my pours! but aren't the old ways just new ways beat into submission?
or do we subdue anything at all? I just let it all happen. Making decisions based on the pattern of my scarf that day
or the way someone said, "hello". Words ARE worthless. Even when they're worth something.
Because how can I convey anything without masking something else?
Who is it that said all poets are liars? Wouldn't that just make all people liars, too?
I'm sick of having myself in skin,
not sensing what happens below my head except for vaginal
miscommunications.
And I wrote lots of people today,
to try and remember what kissing feels like!
Do you remember?
How awkward, how touches made the grass feel like intercourse in summer?
Smoking a cigarette in the cold?
My throats sore now,
because i'm not taking care of below the neck,
except reading old ginsberg letters
and smoking weed through a hole in my neck.
I'm telling you to get the fuck off me,
so I can start getting off myself.
I'm gunna smoke another one,
and hope my brain figures out where
it ends.

What is buddhism?
-A crazy little
bird blub.
-Kerouac haiku

the blossom

Merry Merry Sparrow
Under leaves so green
A happy Blossom
Sees you swift as arrow
Seek your cradle narrow
Near my Bosom.

Pretty Pretty Robin
Under leaves so green
A happy Blossom
Hears you sobbing sobbing
Pretty Robin Robin
Near my Bosom.

-Blake

Spoon ginger slices into the circle,
my taste buds capture individual specks of flavor,
following the patterns of old habits.
You're not who you are ALL THE TIME just because you do those things you do.
And I judged myself too quickly,
picking up scattered bits of full tummies
overindulged in dairy,
wondering why my stomach wont stop talking to me,
Practicing sign language so I can learn to communicate
with the mirror.
I took a break from everyone's opinions today,
and came back for me.

feeling like i'm missing something i cant place into black lines, and frozen liquids. skirting around being here, around you too, when i feel the weight of your stance but cant feel anything,
and i've never experienced feeling nothing and everything for you at the same time.
Feeling strange,
feeling old,
feeling identity.
I'm not sure if it's necessary to say that I used to be in love,
with someone who loved me back. but now i cant imagine what that would be like again or how that all even starts. the funny thing is i think i get how it ends. because it does and then you're left with yourself, and no fucking net!
and it's good but then what do you do?