Now It's Complicated.

Walking to a macroeconomics

exam

at three-thirty

in the afternoon, sipping

slowly at an

Arizona

green tea

knowing that in

12 hours, i will still be

awake

in 16 hours i will still be writing

.

I arrive and sit in my desk

, like all the

other children, prepared

and excited for the

exam, i bravely

break out into

song about

money

money money

.

now i sit

12 hours in the future

trying to be a good student by 905 AM

. It might

not happen, but

at least, i'm giving it

a shot

in the pitch dark.

~Study all night. Study All Nighters.

Kisses and hugs and still forever yours,

Digress.

Evasively Inebriated

i'll spend most of my nights

doused in wine,

doused in the idea

of having more than i can chew.

i placed my teeth in the word

back when i was fifteen

ever since

the word has been attempting to hide

i found it again

under the last

night of the earth

and i found it again

hiding

in cold blood

behind the layers of Capote

it's there

in the hum of fluorescent lamps

behind the studs in the wall

in between the glass and the fortitude

it is the

zeros in your

phone bill

it's the lines on your

credit card bill

the word

is hiding behind everything

you just have to

be insane

enough

to read it.

~Classical Music.

Love,

Digress.

Life Gives Lemons.

i solicit sex scandals and wear no sandals

with years more on my love life, i've got something to share

bruised knuckles and broken hearts

bad haircuts and banging on the window

until the strangers are ready to drown

you wanna watch us all die

you wanna watch us all melt

and i just wanna watch us all laugh

cry and escape, because that's what becomes of us all

we're gonna meet our reflection in the mirror

and we should know that we reflect on every peer

sit still and keep yourself under the heart

i've got enough of the first part

bottle dreams and blurred night scenes

its an abattoir hidden under Capote

its the subtitle under the fine print of the brochure

the projects we continue to do after graduating high school

it's seven steps to the hell inside

and it's eighteen minutes to the death of laughter

enough of this, enough of that

art has died in my arms and

art has died in your own words.

~Painting in the back room, painting your face in the moon again.

I love you with every bone,

Digress.

A Flame Mesmerized

The room is getting smaller,
the walls are closing in
The world outside of ours is dying to get in.
Dying to interrupt our paradise
To make us feel small,
And unsure..

Baby, we’re getting smaller but we’re not gonna let them in
Hand in hand,
Mesmerized, we’re
Spinning…
Dancing.
To a beat matching that of our hearts
To the song no one else can hear
Nothing
No nothing…’s gonna tear this love apart.

Torches thrown,
in hopes of burning us down
But the only flame I see
is the glisten of fiery passion ablaze
in your gaze piercing my heart, my soul…
Menacing flames controlling the walls around us,
We are safe…
Upon our love
these flames cannot take hold.

Baby, we’re getting smaller but we’re not gonna let them in
Hand in hand,
Mesmerized, we’re
Spinning,
Dancing,
To a beat matching that of our hearts,
To the song no one else can hear
Nothing
No nothing…’s gonna tear this love apart.

The air around us is hazy
And clarity of direction is lacking
They say that the picture can only
Be black and white,
white and black.
There’s an in-between they fail to see
That’s as real as the air we breathe
Forever is how we want it
And that’s how it’s going to be.

Oh,
We’re getting smaller…
Not gonna let ‘em in.
Hand in hand,
Baby,
Mesmerized..
Hypnotized,
No one else can hear…

Low Gear.

Sitting in my room quietly

pondering the

future of nothing

and devising a new plan for excellence

.

I think about the black widows

late-night audible voices

how I cannot miss

this place

.

I fail to sleep anymore, the big

windows are cracked

with intimidation

the headboard is cemented in place

.

It is, though

common practice

to open up the mind and

listen to the dial tone slowly fade 

into the distance decay: just outside my mirror

.

~Eighteen minutes per day and i'm still ashamed.

Love,

Digress.

A Tragedy, Really.

Through my pitiful Myspace page

I have been eristically challenged

of my opinion on 

              existential matters

messages of dreary words

shooting back and forth in the vast-

impossible imagination of the internet

between my empty-headed

ideas portrayed stolidly

         and those

being broadcast through the

engaged stylus of

a broken 12"

        no mercy for the

        wicked    I suppose

and I find myself wondering

with each message

              , "how did I get into

                     this?"

I even initially  responded

to this pugnacious creep

with a letter

of (what i thought to be)

peaceful disregard

"I won't touch this topic because i find the

  argument to be

in vain and of vanity."

and now

         , knee-deep in her

horribly-crafted arguments

I submit the next chapter of my

            horribly-crafted retorts

~ This is what reading has taught me. this is what you taught me. this is what i won't do for you. this is what i haven't done for you.

Love,

Digress.

The Friendship Process

First, if you can get past my lewd
and unreasonable ideas
or if the timing is proper, you
get past my
sociopathic-taciturn nature
you'll find that i'm not the most
gracious of people
but, to you, it can be

categorized into

                 "personality"

. I'll become
a laugh-a-minute
        endeavor
                 for you

I alway seem to

         endeavor

next, you'll find that i have
some strange passive complex of despotism

, if you're lucky you won't ever
catch on to it
. then
, you'll see that my shrewdness and rancour
toward those
whom i deem the proprietors of intelligence
in a paucity
is probably the most ironic thing
you've ever seen
, if you're keen enough
on hoodwinking me

then, days

, weeks

, years later

i'll eventually become

frustrated with your inept
means of approach
and the lack of stolidity you
present or

, due to massive

embarrassment of my

strange despotism

, i'll either
slowly or abruptly
phase you from my ties of
communication
.

then i'll see you
weeks, years, months
later
and probably give you
a second chance
.
i don't think
               you, or i will
ever learn

~I'm in a bad way. still ill, but i love you all. all of you.

Love,

Digress.