Don't Be Me.

i want to be the ground under feet and the voice over beats
doing good deeds and carrying out orders without cease
i want to own fast cars and move in style on the streets
heads turned for the flash of a headlamp and look of elite
i want to travel from here to there and experience every corner
giving out the information as though i was a donor
i want to be on the inside, and know every detail
to keep the wrongs from the rights and wind in the sail
i want to be sturdy like the truss under the train rail
creaking under weight but not relenting to the pressure
i want to be the point to your daily lecture
the ongoing commitment to speak for hours
i want to travel from the corners of east and west
so that i can search for a place to finally rest
i want to be the notebook that you study for the test
keeping you in check with the truth and the boundaries
I want to be the creator the movies with brand new scenes
challenging your eyes and producing pictures of dreams
i want to be a trillionaire with more money i can spend
but poor in the soul so i could never bring myself to ascend
i want to be poor on the streets rich only in my heartbeats
with millions of ideas and thousands of ways to achieve feats
i want to be the bass and the movement inside the club
so much poor grammar you don't know who or what i love
i want to be deployed over seas on humanitarian missions
helping out the people i will never be or greet with derision
i want to watch the earth melt as the sun explodes in an instant
the noise so loud humans will never hear the wounds of division
i want to know the truths of the universe
deciding whether or not the human race is truly cursed
i want to find my place in royalty
inheriting tracks of land and wealth dated ages back
i want to reach out to the poverty
experience the views of helping all those in the sewer
i want to watch the extinction of the dinosaur
cataclysmic events that unfold to the future inspector
i want to be the mouse on your computer
taking you to any place you travel virtually
i want you to become every part of me
and i want me to become every part of synergy
i want to blow a kiss from here to another galaxy
collisions so strong that the world breaks in tragedy
i want to go on break for the rest of my life
never have to deal with any of the hard s**t that bites
i want to speak every language and know all my rights
so that i could understand my place in every light
i want to escape prison without a hint of remorse
in the future i could get a job guiding tours
i want to paper your walls with money
diamonds and gems with pound sterling summary
i want to raise a child and put food in his tummy
so that he can become something better than his father
i want to have a room where nobody can bother
just me, music, whiskey, and the internal organ slaughter
i want to fly helicopters through bullets
delivering payload to those tough as drill bits
i want to be the suspension as the road twists
the calm road turns rowdy with the fist
i want to be you, and i want you to be me
so that we can exchange glances without the guesswork
then maybe we can turn this world into an exhaustion of torque.

~Considering dual citizenships. would you like to come with?

Love,
Digress.

come back to me.

how do i know if its time to move on?
i can never be too sure.
all i ever needed was you.
and and
whenever i am lonely,
whenever i am sad,
whenever i need,
whenever i want;
i need to see you,
i need to feel you,
i need to know you are here,
i need to know you watching;
and and
every night in my dreams,
i feel you,
i hear you,
i see you.
and and
every morning when i wake up;
you aren't there,
i can't feel you,
i can't hear you.
and and
every night i;
pray for help,
a sign to know the truth,
to hear those words one last time,
just whisper them into my ears,
draw them on my back,
make me guess what you are saying,
write it in the stars.
tell the world you still do, and always will.
and and
tell me its okay to have someone else.
tell me to stop crying,
stop worrying,
stop pushing people away.
and and
just come back to me.

second round of this

here we go again,
writers block,
i have so much to say, but
clearly i dont have the right words.
so much on this mind of mine,
i need to rhyme.
let it out, spit it out.
its right here...on the tip of this tongue.
i need these creative finger tips to tell you my story.
it goes like this;
this and that,
her and him,
me and them,
why me oh why me?
insted of girls, girls, girls,
boys, boys, boys.
smoking in the boys room,
smoking in the quad to forgetting he even was alive.
all i know, i cant fight this way.
dont know what we are fighting for.
i could tell a million lies, but it would be no inch closer to the truth.
there is a time, and a place, all i know is i gotta make it right this time.
time to move on.
get me out of here.
its like im here, but with out me.
cant stop the hurt inside.
----not creative enough.
how can i spin these words to make it pretty, and make you want to read it,
make you want to write about something.
write about something that you so deeply care about, or have to get off that chest.
write, i say write.

me-town 101

i want to stand around and look and have the choice to choose the shoes i wear to this college thing more accurately referred to as a booze...fest. where you lose all sense of whose clothes are whose and on those half drunken sundays lay on hammocks and muse about nights before (the ones you lose) and when PROfessionals get the news of your booze...fest they sit and they tell you you abuse. this substance called alcohol. and you say i don't abuse, i aMuse and it's my source of power and freedom and i refuse to believe that this amber liquid i use for my metaphysic speeches may bemuse those who look to me for less falses and more trues. and occasionally, only simultaneously, will i excuse myself from my shoes-choosing and my booze...fest to contemplate what the PROfessionals tell me that what i'm really doing is lose...ing myself and i've got to stop reusing the same jokes at different times. and this perusing usually almost always imbues me with an idea that i need to choose better shoes. to wear.

Elevator Shafts

The end of the world slowly
drags it's desperate body
along the turns of Nüburgring
which so aptly have caused
more concerns of safety
than anything else

The end of the world
slowly watches as
the date changes from
one facially of a day
to another lie of a day

The end of the world
approaches keenly and
without prejudice
he watches as the Earth
spins in it's obliviousness

The end of the world
slowly scrapes the surface
of the earth
with overgrown fingernails
and non-empathetic virtue
he sheds tears for the act

The end of the world
pumps the accelerator
in the corkscrew of Laguna
, no empathy
just dissatisfaction

The end of the world
feels no remorse for
what it is about to do

The end of the world is
slowly creeping up
just like the sunrise
just like the springtime
just like tomorrow



~American Le Mans Series. investigate it. maybe, just maybe it is the key to the universe.

Love,
Digress and his ever-lasting obsession of Le Mans.

What Is This?

What is this? When a jolt in my soul is felt every time a kiss is shared, a whisper is spoken, a touch is felt? It’s something that is indescribable, yet completely self-explanatory. It’s something that not only fills my heart, but overflows into my entire body and soul. It’s about the chills that hit every part of my spine when I think about him. It’s a color that can never fade. It’s something that can lead us to the place called forever. It’s the magnificence seen by sincerity revealed through his eyes. It is the feeling that still lingers long after our kiss is over. It’s something that can weather any storm and it’s a teardrop in a rainstorm. Though our relationship contains distance between us, it’s like the wind to a fire. It puts out the small ones, but enflames the big ones. And even though he is some distance away he can still make me smile. He’s not one of the reasons why I’m happy all day long or why I’ll never feel alone again. He’ll never be one of the reasons…because he’s the ONLY reason. I can’t get him out of my head. Every little thing that he does just strengthens everything that I feel. It’s the way he makes the setting sky more beautiful to gaze upon. It’s the way our hands match perfectly – the spaces between our fingers were created so that our other half could fill them perfectly. It’s the way he catches all of my attention with out ever saying a word. It’s the way I get weak at the knees when I get lost in his captivating eyes and it’s the way I can’t breathe when I’m around him. It’s the way my heart skips a beat when I see him and the way my heart can feel him there even when he’s miles away. It’s the way he makes me fall all over again like I did the first time. My knees went weak and I couldn’t catch my breath the first time we really kissed. And now every time he really kisses me, even if it’s as simple as a kiss on the nose, I feel that way over and over again. He is the piece to my life puzzle that I have been waiting to find…and he fits perfectly. So what is this that I have been describing? I’ll leave that up to you to figure out…

It Rises In The West & Sets In The South...

the sun rose in the west today, the people panicked
i started living my life backwards, enjoying the way the populous interacted
now the wales cry for the one last word that survives their language
it sounds like "wwhhaaaa" but couldn't possibly be a portion of the intuition
just a series of examples of pain that can never be expressed

today the sun broke into a thousands shards of silver lined glass
sending the emotions of the suicide to an even higher level of forevers
the eyes of the forgotten are lined with undisclosed last words
tear-stained shirts impaled with the nevermore swords
mantra paintings on the floor tiles stained with the innocence of wine

the people watch me from afar and judge my next actions in a suitcase
they find the examples of the common sociopath to be my everyday pace
i sit here with no satisfaction and full of broken space for my place
roomers wait for me to evaluate their glimmering shadow puppets
tomorrow will be the day for the darkness to fall to the righteous

yesterday was the last time i actually evaluated love
i asked it the questions i've always asked myself
and now i realized that nothing quite aligns with the formats
love produces a feeling much like the swing of a bat
the impact is soft but firm, fair and balanced, common like the rat

tomorrow i will awake and not remember the previous evening
i've lost my memory and can't quite grasp the feeling of being
no longer am i real, yet nothing around me is fake
piled up--i am like the dormant leaves under the rake
here i am awaiting trial by the children who play

you follow your problems by running from them
little do you know that the mirror is your issue
you can't look back into it without severing a limb
extremities of yours can't handle the abuse
but you're addicted to the pain you constantly re-use

weeks ago i dealt with the time it took to ride the bus
here i am forgetting that you would actually one day trust
other objects to tell you it was now and not later
and when death is your only friend you'll understand too
there time pieces are nothing but a waste of your time

i lied when i spoke about my past
and i couldn't stand what it brought back
i keep trying to white it out with poison
but ghosts haunt to remain annoying
and that's why guillotine traps are set for regret

i was living in a california castle one afternoon
anguished by the hectic noise of the highway
i looked into the courtyard and there stood a man
the crow cawed for his loss of ability to stand
for the love he would never come to know

winter passes in the shortest breath of mother earth's chest
whispers are cast in the season of the dead that keep it blessed
no longer will there be a solstice but the weather will continue to contuse
the animals of the wild with no relevance of mortality
mother earth passes messages in class just like the rest of humanity


~Earth mounds and slow fevers. heal shortly, don't fall short of healing.

Love,
Digress.

In The Mirror

i slept with Human Perfection and awoke a new man looking in the mirror for bad ideas
then, giving up the concept completely; i found use for the tears
falling with consistency and cracking all the mirrors
bad luck came with the rising of the sun, it'll last for years she can help me forget
she smiles at me and gives me a kiss and fades back into the forgiving loveliness
Human Perfection is funny, she's oblong and soft, watches me with brown eyes that wring
all the clouds into the feathers of birds with everlasting wings, for me they're simply beating
i approach Human Perfection with caution, i must not harm the love that's fleeting
keen nights are spent in the eyes of lost bears, searching for the findings of the peers
we keep our kisses secret and overwhelm the presence of our held hands held so dear
we speak with clarity and keep the memory of the beginning times without a fear
slowly--we elaborate to keep big bangs under the countertop, enveloping the invention
i approach her with the posture of a simple innovation in the common messages mentioned
though it's trite and can be often amused, we can't speak to the thoughts we haven't abused
as i vanish into the distance i think of the presence and how it changes my perception
i bide my time until i give her two more cents for wandering eyes to mention
top to bottom she begins each motion with a simple contraction of the beauty
keeps it close and watches as the ocean evaporates for her feet to find me
framed in the lids of eyes that shine with the brilliance of one thousand suns
once placed under the gun, rushed emotions flourish able to pinpoint where it begun
the epicenter of an earthquake to keep the neighborhood awake, our minds are spun
around the ideas that never quite make it to the lung and out the mouth
taking steps around the lake and discovering the sensual things we dream about
we spin in flat circles at the end of the day, looking for the end of the couch as not to fall out
carried away in the passion of the last words and the beginning of new actions never before forged
ironclad and doused in wine we talk tables and reference future in the most current of terms
and sleeping with Human Perfection has been the best lesson i have learned


~Love poems again.

Love,
Digress.

Technically Twisted.

we're not technically on the same page

but the thought of your ghost haunts my age

i'm caught between the hard place of last moment

and the rock of my first atonement

the twisted shapes of your soul carry me to a new level

and the last words i spoke were of your upheaval

how you tore into flesh and left me minus breath

torn 

from head to navel

so breathe easy in the glimmering shutters of my eyes

draw silence from the last passenger of your thighs

this was the motion sickness you injected into my lives

the boat is rocking from the tsunami you produce

cut my noose and let me loose

the rope tightens on not only my wrists and neck

but on the vacancy of your first-born shipwreck

no need for rescue

we're dying in this mess

together we drown in the sorries we deliver

without a whisper from twisted tongues 

we lie in a watery grave

for us, the bell is rung

and no longer will we invent

nor live the love that once was

because because because

and this is the last thing i'll leave you with:

a love letter from the me that refused to shift

to capital letters producing the warning of a new sentence

and the empty gains of a horribly-misguided inventions

so goodbye old friend

i'll let go as soon as your memory is dead.

~Dead to me, but not to the world. goodbye old friend.

Cuddles and Kisses,

Digress

An Ocean of Sickness

i'm sick and dizzy, my brian feels pressure with impunity
a hate has boiled over and i can't control her
give me something else to alleviate the pain
the pressure is building and i'm wracking my brain
this is the last straw, i'm gonna punch somebody in the face
and it's going to go down on my permanent record and not erase
because the person lives with me and sleeps next to my place
that i claimed mine at the beginning of the year
and i thought that i my thoughts would be clear
but now i can't stand just the thought of this
because you've tightened my life into fists
and now you come into the story
enter left stage, because now you've entered the story

i'm surrounded by trite cliches
thinking that they're unavoidable
and that they're not the soil
they try to break me down as a man total

grab the matches and let it soak they will all appreciate the joke
after they realize it's not exactly something to take light
because this is the spark of not a war but a fight
step forward and take the responsibility of tonight
if you really think you're on top come talk to me with sight
clarity beyond most is what i'll present to you with a bite
burn your clothes and melt your hair under the flame
this was the last time that i let you enter my brain
broken records repeat the last sign that your lame
as a thinker and an scholar, how far will you go
before you realize you don't contain the capacity to show
the world exactly what you want to be
i struggle the same way, but at least i don't need to lean
on the most obvious choice for the typical parasite
because that's what you are--an insect of the populous

i'm surrounded by trite cliches
thinking that they're unavoidable
and that they're not the soil
they try to break me down as a man total

how dare you, place me in this position
now i've got to make this incriminating decision
whether or not to enjoy your company
i feel like i want to ostracize what you mention
or maybe i just need to get in detention
so that i can stay away from the moments of your invention
and your emotions are the volcano of my tension
so why oh why did you place me in this?
am i just a symbol of where you'd like to piss?
or am i the creation of everything you miss?
i don't want to know the answer because i like a little mystery
i don't think you even know the answer to my misery
but that's okay, because it's your trite nature
to be something that nature couldn't nurture


~If i only got along with all these people. but i don't... and in a way, that makes me happy.

Love,
Digress.

real women

its tough you know not yet being in the real world with real women and real men and not being taught that in the real world the women look like me not like my skinny little roommate its hard to hear that from a real woman still yet no graduated from college its hard you know looking in that mirror and only seeing what i see that body of mine that hair of my that skin of mine and then and then and then turn around and have someone tell me that i am beautiful its its its just not right because why cant i see it and why can i feel it and why cant i know it its hard you know learning to love whatever you got its hard when you bust your butt in that gym everyday waiting and wondering and hoping and wishing and praying for a better you for a better me why cant i learn to love me?

A Different Kind Of Wrong

Have you ever felt something that felt so wrong, but somehow you knew that it was right? That you were supposed to be feeling that way? And maybe not wrong in a normal sense of right and wrong as we learned as young kids – but a much different kind of wrong. A wrong that goes beyond what an expert would tell us is the correct definition. A wrong that feels so wrong only because it’s so right. And the only reason why it feels right is because it’s something so unfamiliar. It’s something that we have never felt before. We’re not quite sure how to handle it because we’re used to something that’s completely opposite. It just feels wrong…but in a right way. This wrong feels so right because perhaps for once in our life, we want to believe that things are going to be different. That things won’t always be defined in our lives by the cliché definition that the world makes us believe. A wrong that makes us feel hopeful, possibly even pure, a wrong that we want to feel forever – even though we know that forever wouldn’t come close to being long enough. This feeling is something stronger than we’ve ever felt before… but why do we feel so weak? It’s a weakness that is terrifying, overwhelming, and it scares us to death. Our first instinct would be to run…but we cannot run away from weakness – we sometimes have to fight it out – or maybe just run along side of it to see where it might take us. It could bring light to that flame in our heart that has been burning out for years…or bring to life a passion that should be gracefully felt out. Leaving that passion unattended would burn the flame to its own self-destruction. This passion is temptation that is silenced by a ray of hope – and sometimes this ray of hope is dimmed by issues of trust that have troubled us in our past. But we must learn to believe that our heart will not always be handled as it was before. That we will feel hands of a gentle and comforting nature instead of always rough and controlling. A pair of hands wrapped around our heart with a sign saying, “I will handle-with-care”, and during the moments when we cannot see him, our hearts can feel him there. I feel him there.

Deleted By The Artist.

it's not about losing my own life
it's about keeping it from becoming something real
i don't want to live in the land of your corporate zeal
and you think that everything we do is approved with a seal
by the overhead divinity with no limit to his invisibility
the angles crumble and fall at the foot of thicker heads
bouncing back and colliding with the humans labeled dead
we're trapped in the pages of an exhausted photo album
watch us all stand still while the cold sets in // we're so numb
growing old in the afternoon never kept us in perfect shape
no matter what we die in the night as the sun sets on life's mix tape
we've got parasites and vestiges, ghosts and anecdotes
keeping us all from becoming victims of the loss of hopes
little do we think about how much we become the center of our own jokes
it's a laughing stock for the traveling man and a build up for the vagrant
leaving us here bleeding on the pavement
wisdom has been lost in the shadow of the life we live
and now this thoughtlessness has brought us down to our dirty knees
begging for a vision of the next big things, a vision the man sees
here it is on a silver platter, a feast for you to keep score upon
just make sure you understand that we are the only animal who wants to live long
we are the only animal who's stopped evolving because our hearts are revolving
falling in love is not a human thing, it's a people thing
a Sociocultural difference in the creation of herds and the creation of cities
grazing for thin heads and airy eyes
we keep ourselves away from home because we disintegrate our lives.

~Who can Al-loop? me. that's who.

Love,
Digress' local hairdresser.

sisters

i believe
i used to believe
i believed
in sisterhood.

sisterhood bonds should never break
i learned that from my grandma.
i dont know if she likes the choice she made.
she doesnt talk to her sister....
but at this point.
sorry grandma.
this sister is out of here.

every corner i turn im being
blamed
called names:

fat

ugly

stupid

FAT

she really knows how to bring a sister down.

i thought that i did nice things for her,
but in return
nothing.

names again:

the b word

stupid b word

i hope you, you know.

she really knows how to bring a sister down.

apparently i have more important things to do.
you know like


eat.

Please Hate Me.

There's a cowboy in that
office
and the television tells me that they
are blowing things up for
a good cause
and if i don't return a phone call in the next ten
Ow!ers. i'll probably end up
living in the streets for the
rest of my life
and my parents don't
want me to be broke
but the television has told me to watch for
the side effects
and consult my doctor

i think one of the
only people who've understood me
and helped
me
hate me now
, and i've decided that
i don't quite trust my doctor
and if i did
i'd let him know about the things that crawl on my
insides
the television has diagnosed me
and
i'm depressed.
no longer
am i repressed
i'm in america.

a few days ago i
decided i'm going
to get a
dog
and now i know that there's a difference
between knowledge and
intelligence
knowledge is being able
to present
the information you know
at the drop of a
nickel
whilst intelligence is
the ability to distract the audience
from the real answer:
them none the wiser.

~kisses all over your political face. MUAH!!!!!

Love,
Digress.

Still Frames

the bricks are crying
windows crack with the brazen sounds
street signs seem to be bottled up into
enormous knots that scream at
my eyes
the snow shouts as it passes my face
my body, my hair
my joints burn with
every single

movement

the world is in a fog
that doesn't inhibit vision but
painfully overexposes vision
everything is a
tantrum
my Krebs Cycle
vomits bile
and
i can't stand the sound of the
porcelain or the feel of this
morning



devastated again
just thinking about how
i've wasted

~Paranoia has treated me well.

Love,
Digress.

Foolish Letters.

go ahead and misinterpret my words
its a hit or miss game, my points are absurd
so why do you read what you read and write what you write
when you can't think of anything but how much you want to spite?
your over-indulgence in the emotions you hate, you feel so trite
i touched your fingertips and you give me the same ish
just a bunch of problems i don't want to solve and you don't want to haul
i'll be here keeping secretes safe no matter how small or how tall
if your looking for me i'll be off telling the story
audience's faces full of disbelief and hate for the one who would dare to leave
pushing me to a state to where i couldn't even breathe or sleep
you haunt my dreams like a well dressed wax figurine
i don't know where to go when you've come after me
and reading these love notes you send to me indirectly
have got me cringing at the thought of how we shared intimacy
in shattered patterns of broken mirrors with no signs of relevancy
to how much our toilet parts shared the satisfaction of regency
there was an absence of free will monarchy
all because you convinced me to just
love me love me

~Half finished, never a break. break away from me.

Love,
Digress.

:life. almost.

its simple.
this year i want to make life right.

see what happens when i play by the rules.
drop all the b.s. and get down to it.

write down everything i learn.
write down everything i know.

tell someone my story.
teach someone about life so far.

learn to love again.
show some respect.

not to judge.
not to scold.

listen a little more.
pray alot more.

tell them i love them.
show them i can.

prove to him i will.
give up nothing.

live for everything.
period.

And Here I Am Again

same place for this new year but that's about it

But this time a visit
only here for a little bit
on the same couch I used to sit
when I'd try to get
(rhymes)
though now I'm ready to throw a fit
because I can't get one question out of my brains' pit
What did I do?

Why did I leave and what for
I couldn't have asked for anything more
but on myself I closed the door
And for what?
A purple shirt and forty hours
my nice red car all drapped with flowers
the same old jobs
the same old guys
nights full of sobs
thinking; all those knobs
connected to doors I didn't open
I had everything, a perfect 10
And I drove away from it all

But it's a new year
to start eliminating this fear
and to focus on my ultimate goal
take on a more adult role
because I hate this feeling
I want to be back
-permanently though-
like a name on a lunch sack

Wishing Won't Do Me Any Good - They Only Come True In Fairy Tales

Don’t you ever wish that we could go back in time? Back to the times when things didn’t hurt as bad and things were easier to fix. When instead of playing drinking games we’d be playing uno or old maid or even pick up stix. Back to the times when the thing that hurt worst was merely a scraped knee, and the person you were didn’t matter – you were whoever you wanted to be. Back when a broken heart wasn’t even faint in our imagination, and good decision making hadn’t left on a train from the station.

But why am I using “we” when in reality I should be saying I, because if I wasn’t then I would certainly be telling no little white lie.

I want to go back to the times when I was daddy’s little girl, when nothing else in the world mattered but me and him, and my hair was all up in curls. The times that were so special like the daddy daughter dances, and our daddy daughter dates that took place long before any of my future romances. I want the times when I never disappointed you, and when the butterfly kisses that I gave you at night didn’t come in only ones but twos. The times when you’d tuck me into bed at night and then I’d say my prayers; I want those times when God seemed so close, because now I’m doubting if he’s even there.

I don’t want the times when it’s oh so hard to look you in the eye; I don’t want the times when I keep on failing, no matter how many times I try. I don’t want the times when my mistakes are the only things that are consistent, I don’t want the times when you no longer trust me and when trusting me you are resistant. I don’t want the times of me crying myself to sleep or sometimes even worse, and I don’t like that you’re not by my side to wipe away my tears when I feel hurt. I don’t want the times when I’ve caused you so much pain, trust me when I say this, I wish I could make it all just go away.

I wish that I could make all the pain I’ve caused you to feel be my burden instead of yours; I wish that it could stay that way forever and forever more. I wish that I could be the one, who puts the smile on your face, but instead I do the opposite and that smile of yours I erase. I wish that time could go back to the way things used to be, when I hadn’t disappointed you yet, and you were so proud of me. I want to go back to the times when the only thing I stole was a cookie before dinner time, because that’s more easily forgiven than breaking the heart of the father of mine.

Parable of the Big House

i have to thank Plato a bit, and give him credit. for the most part, this is like his allegory of the cave but retold and changed. there is no world of the forms, something kind of like it exists in this though. read and observe :p

There once was a gigantic house with no doors or windows, or in fact anything to lead to the conclusion there was anything beyond its walls. Inside it lived a few families. The families were happy. The fathers ruled the household, each in control of their section of the house. They would meet from time to time, and sometimes argued. The overall tone was happiness though. No one ever thought about what could lay beyond the walls, they never had time to. They were busy with everyday life they found suitable for them. The walls and everything inside them were the only thing that mattered. But there was eventually a child born that grew up in constant curiosity. The fathers, mothers, siblings, everyone discouraged the thought that the house was not the only thing. The boy believed there was something more. He became an outcast among the house. He spent all his days wandering its corridors, seeking some small fracture, some insignificant crack in its walls suggesting a second reality. Many years he searched, with no success. His family and the other families grew to treat him with indifference. He decided to try a little more unconventional means of discovering anything. Taking a long nail and hammer, he began poking small but long holes in each wall, looking to see if anything existed independently of the big house. Room after room: failure. One day, after many unfruitful days of exhaustive venturing, a hole he made revealed light on the other side. He was astonished, for he expected, well, he didn't know what to expect. He was just searching for anything else that may lie beyond. Over the next few weeks and months, he began trying to widen the hole without being noticed. This was not that hard, because most everyone left him alone. When it was big enough that he could squeeze through, he did. emerging on the other side, he was blinded by the intense glare of the sun. All of this was new to him, he had never seen or heard any of these sights or sounds. After having realized that life inside the house was a lie, that they were all living in a dream world, sheltered from any and all actuality and truth. The society that exists within the confines of the house were all false. The very nature of everything he thought he knew had to be questioned. He couldn't KNOW anything that he had 'known'. He had to learn everything anew. Even things like the concepts he grew up with, that had been ingrained into his mind after years of living in that family environment. The foundation of knowledge itself had been shaken and he knew he had to try and share this newfound reality with his family. When he told them about it, and tried to make them understand, they couldn't. He was saddened that they could not understand the truth. Even when he tried showing them, they didn't want to believe it. He knew he couldn't ever live in the house again, not now that he knew everything in it is just a false illusory misconception of the reality that lies outside. He must live it alone, as close to happy as is possible. The people inside were happy as well, living under the false pretense that they were ignorant of. They believed what they saw and heard and experienced was real. And they were happy living in that 'reality'. But the son could never return. He experienced true happiness, mixed with longing and frustration. He dearly wished his family could realize the truths he had been enlightened to. But he resolved to living in the real world.


if i wrote it properly, you should sort of take a meaning about what i am actually trying to say. or you may get an entirely different meaning altogether. to each their own.

My Getaway Sky

This is it. I won’t change direction and I won’t change my mind. I’m leaving everything and the lingering disappointment behind. I’m leaving it all in my rearview mirror…all the times I’ve failed miserably to make my dad proud, after all I am just another face in a crowd. Right? I’m leaving behind that dreaded look that I’ve seen so many times, I just don’t think I could bear to once again put it in his eyes. I’m sick of always trying and never getting results – the only thing consistent are my dad’s subtle insults. Little does he know just how deep they cut – understanding imperfections he is doing anything but. Expectations he sets are never met – I try so hard but he never seems to see the effort that I put. I’m leaving all of that behind. I’m headed somewhere that my effort will be acknowledged, somewhere that I might be able to one day, some day, call home. Anywhere is better than here. The me that I am now isn’t good enough – if I leave I can find myself – the me that might finally be good enough. This life is a torch that I’m holding and it’s slowly burning up my arm – I’m running out of time to find myself. I want to find myself. But I can’t do that with disappointment always standing in my way or always having to worry about what my dad has to say. The only way I can do this – is to say goodbye – the only thing familiar will be my getaway sky.

Thank you to everyone who has helped me along the way – you have helped me so much and I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for you but I need to take it from here. I’m sorry that I have to leave you all behind in the reflection of my aviators in my rearview mirror – but this is something that I have to do. I don’t know when I’ll be leaving or where I’ll be going, and I won’t be telling anyone – all I know is that once I pick up and go, I won’t be looking back.

in this land of palm trees and slugbugs, cocoa mugs and baby tees

and it's raining on a friday
people walk through the splish splash
and jump and run and dash
to avoid these jokes the angels play

windshield wipers back and forth
gotta see gotta go gotta make it there
in time
everybody's going going going
and all i wanna do is

stop.
and listen

and feel these teardrops from the sky
touch my chest and
i am aware of the thu-dunk thu-dunk my heartbeat makes

in a gray and misty day-time melody
i am caught up in this rhapsody
and i grasp tight and hold on to the sublimity
of this gift we call
mortality

After watching a video of animal skinning. its awful.

Who could do such cruel and unusual things

to innocent beings, skinning them alive

what drives them to this, it's not just to survive

all the awful events I have gone through

do not compare at all to the scare they put in the air

the pain that rains into these harmless by those who reign

in hate, these soldiers of villains, murder and killing

tied down no escaping, this fate they lay down for

take it, the blade slits right through the flesh, and

cuts off the fur, they're not filthy curs, they are pets

of mine and yours, pets who die martyred for nothing

but fur coats, throats slit for warmth, burn the image into your mind

that this crime has endured for far too long, and now its time to fight

for those who can't, dogs and cats put to death by any means,

so mean, it makes my face turn green and my stomach scream

and retreat from this animosity towards animals and the key is to

refrain and return to the learning, the ways of peace and love

above all, the skinners have to fall. Fall into all the evils and hates they've

demonstrated, let's cut off their faces and skins,

erase their outside and see what lies within

finish them off and let them rot from justice and might, the right way to go

for they need to own up to and show up to the crimes they did do

the trial, no denial, we caught them, now to stop them

men and women must serve their sentence for ten thousand deaths

at least, they feasted on the mutilation and annihilation of nature's finest

the dining room from hell set to a madman's will

and he will surely get his fill of the bitterest pill

the one of liberty and right, and if the living unite

then this fight will be done, over and won

light will find its way into the blackest hearts on that day

I could take all my pain and it would

be nothing to what they feel, ladies and gentlemen, this is real

the real deal, and its high time we stop them peeling

and have them start feeling for themselves what it's like to be killed and tortured

force them to endure the fury of your hands, the hands of a man

who cares enough to stare and cry, and wonder why

and wonder when this slaughter and pogrom will terminate

and if it will germinate a good inside the coal-minded, cold-hearted

bold killers on jihad, the free have no way of comprehension,

just descension into the arms of apprehension, with law on their side

calling for no stalling in the case of falling and failing to ace the capture

of those rapturing the hides of beautiful creatures, few will feature

seat and remain and don't do it again but they will until that day when

they are cut open, their skin cut off, while they breathe, no sleep, no rest for the wicked

it's sick they can inflict those damages on innocent animals

and it needs to stop, we have to be firm and crack down,

we can't squirm when the worm gets snatched by the crowned dove with love, when the

maltreatment is shown, with cares not overgrown and little ones snared into overcoats

smack the first blow with the fist of vengeance, so low they can't fit this revenge upon us

even though it all began and stands with them, at a standstill for lack of action.

That day far off, when they are scared off, when all are alive, all survive, and

they contrive to the good of pure love. That is the day we wait for in vain, patiently.

One For The Road

i feel like i'm tapped out lately

; drained of all my valuable

juices

its too much, i want 

to just let it go

all go

right down the drain

Bukowski called it

"The Frozen Man Stance"

i feel like i've been frozen for quite

some time. even months

;

i feel like i've just wanted to

sever off all ties with the outside

and live in my house for the rest of 

my life, or at least for

a little while

; no more girls, no more

friends,

no more family.

no more of anything.

i don't even want to run away

i just want it all to be exactly how it

is, just without me in it.

; and that would be magic.

magic i don't have

magic so i could

just sit around an

unfurnished apartment

and do absolutely nothing

but listen to the creeping

of isolation

right around that door.

and this corner

i feel so cold.

so frozen.

like rotten fruit in a bag

at the walk-through freezer section

at your local King

Soopers.

~I sometimes miss it, but isolation might be nice for a while.

Love,

Digress.

Right To An Attorney

lets not use names at least not tonight

let us shed the stresses that bite

change up the numbers and dial the new tones

hang it up / deliverance from your phone

shed light on the under roots of the unknown

its sad to think of most life being blown

but sometimes its sadder to think the opposite

the best inspiration comes when you are indigent

so rip the clothes and let it grow, let it glow

put it down in paper and ink

make sure you give the children time to think

before they discover their ship will one day sink

accomplish what you can in this short life span

nobody truly knows about the mourning after plan

sit with me in the eclectic chair

shocking through of who what when and where

and hook up the weirdness to this chair

we need a place and victim in order to stare

compile stories of the missing and the aware

electroshock therapy for your misguided agendas

and a new wave of evidence for your defenders

reality can be creepy / but you sit here sleepy

will you ever sit up and be a deity

will you ever stand up and not sign that treaty?

an inventive man will one day reach you

telling of the all new revolution of blue

solemn and melancholy, lugubrious and prostrate

this is the man overcome by his own hate

now you know what must be done

so i'll send you on your way

shine bright with your lunar glow

produce the better man over the show

one ups are two doors down

walk inside the streets of your broken town

it was all going swell, it was all going right

suddenly like a dodo you've got no flight

so rise above the tumultuous situations

and remember to face all that cause fright

your mind and your voice carry you to delight

go out in confidence go out / it'll be alright.

~The Magic is dead. its so mother-Psshkt dead.

Kiss Kiss,

Digress wants to quit it all.

I Want You To Cry

going out of style and giving one toothed smiles

broken down and eradicated

waiting for a new man to take my hatred

disgusting new ideas gone and evaporated

living on the fray and boarder line hysteria

kisses blown to malaria

give me a title, go ahead i dare ya

mistreated miscreants

business-like insects

fornicated respect

ostracized derelicts

a new breed of retrospect

give me walls is all i ask

don't expose what's below this mask

hide me like a cockroach 

lie me down in the eggs you poach

my brain blinds as you coax

i know the taunt

its exactly what you've always taught

ragtag ragamuffins

bold nobodies and nothings

cumbersome and dutiful

weavers toil at the spool

allow it. help is cruel.

sitting with nights evaporating

gazing into eyes so cold and isolating

another sad cry for you to stop debating

over the rainbow and far away

something there for what is here

so why do you practice regular fear?

ashamed of the way you're insane

grasp the new sense of violence

realize that humans are intense

voices shrill

piercing midnight thrill

swallow the vitamin pills

alarms in instants

and calamity for business

~Walk with your insanity, talk to your insanity, let it breath its wisdom, allow it to tell tales.

Kiss Kiss,

Digress.

Jenga Tower

stranded like white bread in the wrong neighborhood

another dying wish is what you misunderstood

when it comes time will you take it for the good

to run with the wind and run with the haunted

hide in the bushes of the ever-dying wanted

plastic and deformed the legs stretch for the daunted

a sexual drive for the unknown disgrace

male dominance and objectification of your haste

somebody get some preparation H

we've a new society to misplace

written in the faces on the television screen

the quickening silence was obscene

wanting new ideas they climbed to the top

and now a fashion show is exactly what they got

written in the faces on the television screen

its the secret the bodies scream

a no name number in a new name campaign

celebrating the loss with showers of champaign

its the clothes we put on that cause so much pain

little will she know exactly how much strain

can be placed on the land of broken insane

so far away--they were so far away

but the flash and glint brightened her day

and now look at her, standing on the bane

the vexation of the ones her purchase claims

and now look at her--high in society

look at her high on her piety

and now look at her--in the slums of variety

watch her lie to you and to me

written in the faces on the television screen

the quickening silence was obscene

wanting new ideas they climbed to the top

and now a fashion show is exactly what they got

written in the faces on the television screen

its the secret the bodies scream

~Fashion shows the objectification. the blind downfall of her. as a whole we are blind.

(its been a while since my last rap-- more on the way. a busy time.)

Love,

Digress.

since then

walking into that building
the unfamiliar walls
crept in
as i was praying
praying for you
you the one that i lost
so long ago
too long ago
baby its been five years
where does the time fly
i still have no idea where i am in life
without you
i am the same age you were
when you parted me
i still cant believe you are gone
my mind forgets about it sometimes
though every second i still remember your name
your face
your steady heart beat
your not so perfect smile

it seems my life has to change, i have to close my eyes and pray. let me just stand in that empty church and with arms wide open let me pray and give my body to Christ. I dont know if i am ready to be a new woman with out you. I cant breath right. I just
just
just
just
just
just
close my eyes
and
begin
to
pray
pray
pray
pray.
with arms raised to the sky
my tears
s
t
r
e
a
m
dowm my face

Don't mistake them for Saturday morning cartoons

Yours were nightmares with happy endings
the villain got the girl , the hero died
You would never have it any other way
my magic puppeteer ,
playing god
my life was your stage ,
devoted to heartbreak and despair
hope dangled over my head,
your solitary amusement

Windows

He is my cliche , my window into the world of unrequited love. Simply put , I care for him. It's a quiet sort of caring , most of which is to be done in the confines of my bedroom. I can only hope that from an outsiders point of view the situation seems romantic and ill-fated. In reality it is nothing more that a testament to high school relationships and a metaphorical slap in the face. All of which is to be taken lightheartedly . because anything deeper would provide them with the victim they so desperately want.

God give me one more foot, and another hand or two. Then I could add up how many times I’ve given up on you.

Sometime you have to jump, because there is no turning back. Because you only have two weeks, and it’s just a tank of gas. But if you just sit on the ledge then you can never really forget. Don’t take signs for granted, cause they are usually from god, and he is usually right. Hold my hand, for hope, for one try, at being something special, so we both can see. If it’s wrong then I’ll never call that phone number again, never let my fingers stroke those little phone buttons the same way again. Its hope, that jumping will make everything better, let you sleep alittle better, a little sounder. If you stay up and think like I do, then we might as well say it. If the world ended right now then I would rather be with you than just thinking about you, cause we might not be meant for each other, you might not be the one for me, but right now that doesn’t matter. My heart just hurts not being there to hold you close, just one more time. Just one more kiss, no matter what everyone else says. It doesn’t matter what they say. I know I have to know, if all these feeling are really real. Maybe I’m a fool, but I’d rather have you teach me a thing or two, then have to figure this out on my own.

Martyrdom Before Chaosity

24 hours ago he was in heaven
24 hours after he’s in hell
What happened?!

Reality takes its course, cold as ice
Mourning bells toll their lament
Struck down by waves of torment
Martyred by the love nonexistent
Silence, since dawn immemorial
Silence echoes in his empty soul

Seeking solace from his solitude
He who loveth an angel shall fall
Such a dire predicament is his
So he turns to self-loathing
Hating himself to love others
Society loving to hate him
Until raptures flame out around him

The fires scathing those not he
Skies bruised black and blue; chaos
Pitched into an anarchaic state; worlds lost, dreams nightmared
Terror and demons walk and stalk survivors

An angel, alone, cries to herself amidst the devastation
The mortal martyr sees; rushes to save her
Murders of the flesh and mind happen all around
Raping the righteous of body and soul
Horrors see the noble cause of the hermit
Attempting to halt and remove both angel and man

Locked in the epic struggle for love or death
The lonely soul, feeling useless, gives it his all one last time
Fighting unarmed but the love on his side; a madman
Dancing with the devil for the angel to live, regardless
Satan intimidated by the lost one’s vengeance dealt, blow by blow
Crimson thoughts aflame with hope extinguished
But the blackest thoughts die then as well

At the end all is gone. An angel remains weeping.
Corpses litter the once picturesque landscape, fires burn
The sky starts to clear, the angel takes one last look
Remembering the man martyred to save her
Interring his body and entering his soul, sees his love
Undying, it now lives on in her breast, eternal.
Flying into the widening blue, happier an angel never was.

A Perhaps

maybe, just maybe, we should think

about a new revolution.

one for the children.

and

maybe, just maybe

we should begin to

adventure into new sights

and

maybe, just maybe, we could

try and overcome our emotions and attempt the

greatest disappearing act ever known

and

maybe, just maybe, we should...

kill everything

we've ever owned, loved, cherished, modified, scorned, worshiped, fondled, loathed, enveloped, initiated, completed, obscured, found, coddled, maintained, destroyed.

destroyed

destroyed

destroyed

destroyed

destroyed

destroyed

destroyed

destroyed

destroyed

destroyed

destroyed

and

maybe, just maybe, this

is all a

joke, played by hands of higher deed...

~Kleptomaniac--looking up all the facts. evaporating the green smoke stacks.

Love,

Digress                               (give ME three wishes)

Upon Hearing of Another Death Last Night

Everything stops for a moment - my vision is blurred by the wall of heartbreak that is threatening to fall. Struggling to finish reading the screen, I take a deep breath and I fall to my knees. Fighting - trying not to let the wall be broken - but it hurts so bad that no wall could withhold it. Like glass the wall is shattered and heartbreak streams down my face. Banging my fists on the ground and heaving in sobs - how could his young life be so quickly robbed? Face down on the floor drowning in the puddle of hurt that has surrounded me – treading, but giving up - it's getting too hard to breathe. Drawing in my knees so close, I hug them tight, feeling that there is no hope. I squeeze my eyes shut - trying to make this all go away... It's not working, it's not working - it's like a never ending bad dream, except this isn't a dream it's reality. A reality that is too present in my life. This can't be real. This can't be happening. Not again. Not another one - Lord don't do this to me. I can't take it again, the hurt is just too much. Aren't you supposed to show compassion and love? My figures increase no matter how hard I fight it - by adding this one - that puts me at eight. A number I wish could be subtracted by eight. My heart can't take this kind of pain anymore - there's no longer enough of it to even be torn. Picking myself up, I crawl across the floor, not stopping til I look up and turn - my back now against the door. Trying to convince myself that my heart is liar, the sorrow cascades down from my fading blue sapphires. Hours go by and I glance at the clock - It's early in the morning, the time's a bit after 2 o' clock. Tears still are still flowing so I bury my face in my hands......this can't be happeneing to me again.

The Unfamiliar

I’ve got it all figured out, here inside of my head. I’m gonna leave this town with nothing but the shoes on my feet and the bag that’s packed at the foot of my bed. By the time anyone realizes that I’m gone, I’ll be long gone – out of their sight - nothing but dust and the familiar behind me. Leaving behind the memories that have caused me nothing but pain – saying goodbye to the many reputations I have gained. No more being judged by the happenings of my past – no more waiting for the love from those who should love me first and foremost but don’t – among others in their lives, I am loved last. Getting away from all who have hurt me and torn my heart apart – carelessly they took it – broke it – gave it back to me a less completed heart.

It’s time.

I’m leaving everyone who knows anything about me in my rearview mirror. I’ll be nothing but a forgotten, given up on, prayer. The only thing ahead of me is everything I’ve never known. People who know nothing about me and can’t judge me based on my past – they won’t know me, who I’ve been, or who I want to be… they won’t have a previously known reputation about me, so I can be whoever I want to be. I don’t want anywhere I've been or anything I know – as long as it’s somewhere else – I don’t care where I go. The only thing in front of me is the car that isn’t driving fast enough that I want so desperately to pass – oh and the trees flying by, along with the not-so-green-Colorado grass. What road will I take and where will it lead? I’m not so sure, but a one way trip is all I’m going to need. A one way trip to I don’t know where – just as long as it leads me to nothing but the unfamiliar.

smallest love

Can we really saw that love is all you need to make it does it really out rule the cash money the cash to pay for all your sh*t is love money love hurts its never a doo hurt till you truly know what love hurts which heart and whos heart do you make her cry when you leave the room do you laugh at her when she is not around is there really no love at all because you say it and you dont believe it you just say it because it was what she wanted to hear you are a fool for telling her and you know its wrong a man loves a woman and and woman loves a man and you never will understand no love at all is better then sad love and mad love and no love no love is better then love at all you are going to be a poor old man with that ugly hat in your hand with no where to go and thats too bad you sir are truly troubled and its a short fall to your own hell a little bit of love is less then no love at all and i may believe that.......till it shows till it scream though your heart and you bleed my name i wont tell you the turth about him till you tell me the truth about your love its a question of the future your secrets follow you and ruin what i HAD for you period

On Wanting

You should say it everyday to have a happy one
I do it in spite of that
I always say it
and mean it
it's the thing to say when leaving
and upon first seeing you
after a long time
Saying it makes me weaker
and you stronger
causing me to wonder
who will stay this way longer
most don't feel this forever
but hope to...
It is the great human want
It is so much easier going in
than leaving it behind
because a failed one might
remind me of who I am
and how I we you failed
We tie esteem to this dream
and feel incomplete until
we achieve
One
where they don't leave

where

scared yes

nervous no

confused maybe

l

o

s

t

never

angry no

worried

why

never running

losing(myself)

to you

fighting

my fears

all i wanna be is honest

but sometimes the line between honesty and fallacy gets stepped over and faded and erased altogether. sometimes what i feel can hurt so bad while sounding so good

and

this is the part where i run and

breathe

I'm always waitin'

Wasn’t I waitin for the unexpected?
I always am…
I’m waiting on you to take a turn for the first
Stop being your comfortable worst
You’re so suburban-hard like mayonnaise
And in deep like a rat in a maze
Eatin and drinkin
the things you believe in
line your pocket
tiny and limited
Your morals fit in a first-love locket
No picture there
just the short list
You live by
simply chalk it up to
The world being against you
Poor you the only thing you have more
Of than self pity is more of you
And what about the her of you?
You use her and lose her and
Wonder why you have a rep
And she sits alone as empty as your conscience
While they blame her for what you did to her
So smile for the camera it’s as fake as your hair
Why do peers hate on you? So strange
How next year you are only a boy again
And she’s just a girl until she gets played
Again
I’m shakin my pen to make more ink
And wonderin why I’m wastin it on you
You don’t deserve me and Karma
Is gonna show that’s true
Pose-ter boy
Of unoriginality and immorality
You can’t even see you

Being in a Relationship

Sorry but my printer was giving me a ride today but my brother overslept and my jump drive got stuck in my friends backpack that he left in the library—not our library the other one we always go to when I have to work and take care of my sister at youth group but my teammates will tell you we practiced till eight and then my dad said I had to mow the lawn and I hit the dog with the mower and we spent the whole night in emergency room because my mom fainted when she got a call about my tardy could you fix that for me cuz I can’t drive my new car till you do and my mom sent you an email about how we can raise my grade and I need an A to get in college and my mom said she will call that in and besides I was absent so I get four days to turn that in and I swear you didn’t tell us that last week and I wasn’t here so if it was on the board I would have missed it anyway and could you write me a letter of recommendation for college and I need it by Tuesday and do you have that late work I turned in graded yet cuz I need it to raise my grade or I can’t play this week and mark it down if you want to cuz I don’t care anyway and I don’t know why you gotta make such a huge deal over a tardy anyway and the policy is gay and we should be treated with more respect anyway cuz we’re seniors hello so what if of my shirt has a beaver or a beer bottle and my eyes are blitzed and I roll in smelling like smoke cuz if you don’t like it then don’t breathe and I don’t gotta give no one respect till they give it to me cuz it’s all about me and fine I just won't talk

Reflections on a Monday when the Lord comes to Town

here then gone that's you
here then here that's me
blaming the world that's you
looking in the mirror that's me
but but but but and and and and that's you
been you seen you knew you know you that's me
pissed frustrated fearful done sorry full waiting that's us
shut up and write

Objectives

lean on me to lend to you a piece of honesty,

-Never forget that i chew razors of pithy words-

, On the tip of my tongue and on the point of my pen

there will be no dearth; there will be more than you anticipate (harsh as well)

And you will fall remorseful.  i will remain apathetic.

-i might have compassion sometimes, 

but not when it comes to this.-

~And i ask myself; Can i get the point across in seven lines? and i ask you; what do you anticipate?

Love,

Digress.

P.S. SOMETHING is coming... i dread it, but look forward to ITS arrival.

Class

We don't want to hear your excuses, s***. happens.
You hold up a stack of tardy slips. ha.

Want matters to you, matters to me
You want social acceptance, ironically I want the same

The bland modernism of monotone in your voice
gives me the decision to never speak in your calss again.

I will write, I will be silent, but I will yell.
Screaming my silence through words

the humor, I am begining to write

I Want This

I want this.
I want this more than anything.
I close my eyes,
I want this to be real, not just a dream,
I want this more than I wanted that passing grade,
more than I wanted my life to end when all seemed lost.
But why?
Why do I want this?
I want this for all the wrong reasons.

I want this so that revenge may be taken,
maybe not revenge,
but payback,
for what I've been going through.

I want this so that it may be realized how it has effected me,
I want this so it'll be obvious enough for anyone to see.
I want this because it will open up a pair of eyes.
I want this to be real,
I want this to be the truth,
I want this to happen -
so I can grow away from my old roots.

I want this to happen so I might be shown love -
a love that's never been shown to me before.
Maybe even a love that won't end with my heart torn.
I want this because he doesn't care what he's done,
I want this, even though it was more his fault than it was mine.
I want this so that he will finally have consequence for his actions.

I want this because it's the unexpected.
I want this for all the wrong reasons.
I want this because it's a challenge I haven't yet faced.
I want this because with my fears I will be interlaced.
I want this so that my stress would ease...
or would it just ease my mind?

If wanting this is wrong, then I'm wrong, not right.
I want this to prove that I can and will win this fight.
I want this so that my life would be changed for the better.

I want this.
I want this more than anything.
I open my eyes...
into a dream turning into reality.

I've Got Friends Out There

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

just like last
night and just like
all those other
times, spent playing
those god awful video
games
with these people;
people i've come to
loathe for their lack of reason
and lack of
disease.
sure.
they've had their share of
sicknesses, but
nothing like: my sickness.
my yearning
for routes that
travel past your globes
and into your follicles
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
they're not searching for
what i've been sent on this
earth to find.
they're looking for
instant gratification
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
and i can't quite remember
what my heritage is.
am i alien? or am i
subnormal?
there's something else
there in my soul.
if i have a soul
but, i'm
just the new kid
on the block
looking for social divinity
and a beauty beyond the
back sides of slats
with plaster pushed through
and paint on the exterior:
i'm looking for a new New Orleans
a rebirth of modern culture
a purchase of territory for
$00,000,000.03 per cubic
MILE
i'm seeking the fresh
water whales of reservoirs
all across this flat planet
i'm looking for a new world
inside of this word
i'm looking for
the hidden messages
trapped inside the
dark lines that make
these letters that are
going into your
eyes right....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}
i'm looking to kiss
machiavelli;
that's my
aim.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}
now.

~no beat poet. no song. fighting poet.

Love,
Digress

P.S. I remember Travis, from ACORN. sleeze-lo-eze.

evermore

Shhh, I can hear your heart
beat
my head on your chest I can feel your pulse
race
and I do. but I don't.. and I'm not sure
...you feel it

e
v
e
r
y
thing
about
you
is beautiful

my vocabulary...
fails me
no description suits my purpose:
to create your image

hush now...
I wanna hear your heart
*beat*

Newsflash

Boogie is published in this issue of Teen Ink. Rock on.

http://teenink.com/Community/article.php?link=Past/2007/September/21618.xml

Wooden Planks Are My Floorboards

; careful,

there's a big world out there
it waits for you so it can scare
a test it brings to your door
to prove you can walk this floor

; CAREful,

a sigh in the back room
as forced you to your doom
face the fear as you explore
ancient words of forgotten lore

; careful,

walking in the dark wasn't a thrill
until the last man came with a pill
heightening senses, destroyed prudence
leaving you alone along the wall to reminisce

; careFUL,

this door leads to death
labled life full of health
down the hall is the saddle
and the stairwell you travel

; CareFull,

the kitchen is closed
alchemists twiddle their toes
with pots and pans
full of destructive plans

; careful,

evaporation comes quickly
so gather ye victory
prepare for the ejection
by producing protection

; CAREFUL!

watch the seas collide
your health you imbibe
keep the secrets to yourself
for i cannot keep them on my shelf

; Caution.

wear sunscreen and utilize listerine
do not hit and run from the scene
hold the flame away from face
always season to taste


~Not like the old days. its a little darker now, its a little colder too.

Love,
Digress.

Plans and Extemporaneousness

Cletis the Orphan
looks into the
eyes of those who pass
right on by
without looking into
his longing eyes

Cletis the Orphan
speaks with no
modern language techniques
in fact, he never uses any form
of interjections

Cletis the Orphan
is a mangy mess of
a ragamuffin; dirt on his face
no bathing occurs in his life
;he is as skinny
as he is houseless

Cletis the Orphan
is 8 years old with
no parents; for they
died in a terrible flash
flood-
he's hungry, never knows
where his next meal will
come from

Cletis the Orphan
is in love
with putt][putt golf
he saves change up until
he can go to a course to
putt][putt][putt the night
away

Cletis the Orphan
will become the next
Tiger Wood of professional
putt][putt golf
if the stars keep
staying in lines
;if the chains stay
linked to the future

~Barbed wire dreams. a cut in my side, and i can't sleep with your pride.

Love,
Digress.

Over The Rail

Cold rails with dirt in between, nothing but darkness up ahead.
Staring into the silence, I can’t help but think that with life I am so upwardly fed.
Looking for answers in the leagues that lie before me –
I can’t find any, at least none that are within my reach.
What do I do? Where do I go? I need some answers. I feel so alone.
There are no answers to be seen ahead of me,
but what about to my left?
As I turn my head to the left,
I see a small light in the distance.
Is this my answer? My flicker of hope?
Every few seconds the small light becomes less small –
almost as if it is inching its way towards me.
Bigger and bigger, my flicker of light is no longer a flicker –
but a blinding light that’s moving ever closer.
I panic – look to my right.
What answers lie that way?
All I see is the never ending darkness that I stared into before.
I look down to see the rails that should be rusted by my tears –
they lead me to the right –
away from the light.
Is this my answer? Or just a glimmer of anticipation?
Where do the rails lead me though?
I look again to my left only to realize the light is growing.
My heart starts to pound.
To the right I can run –
the rails will lead me somewhere that I can forget everything.
Along these rails I can run away for miles.
Run! Run!! Run!!!
I keep telling myself to run away – run from everything.
Go to the right and I can run away from all that’s going on.
I start to run – but I stop a few paces out.
Will running away really solve anything?
I turn back.
Blinded by the light – now a spotlight on me –
I stand there in fear.
Maybe if I don’t move it’ll all be okay – I won’t hurt anymore.
Once more, tears begin rapidly falling down my face –
my thoughts getting lost in the black branches being created.
I cannot move – I am stuck there – frozen – not knowing which way to go.
Which answer is the right one?
The one to the right or the one to the left?
Or is it the one that lies ahead?
Take one step to the right and run away from it all,
or take one to the left and not have to worry about it anymore?
Then there’s that third step I can take –
the one over the rail into the never ending darkness
where finding answers I before failed.
Only seconds to think and even less to act –
there is only one answer –
because help within the two others I would lack.
I close my eyes,
hoping not to once again fail,
stepping into the darkness –
I stepped over the rail…

This Place

Get me out of this hell hole
I ready to explode,
This place is a joke.
I have no life of reason.

I cant h o l d myself

t
o
g
e
t
h
e
r

Someone save me from myself.
This life never seemed so long.
Each day brings nothing.
Rescue me from hell,
From the place they call "so close"
From the scary monster that hides
underthebed.
These thoughs run through my head
OVERANDOVERANDOVERANDOVERAND
OVERANDOVERANDOVERANDOVERAND
AND
AND
AND
AND
Tell me everything going to trun out alright.
Tell me that im dreaming,
Wake me up from this nightmare.
Please come find me.
Please come back here.
Come get me from this hell hole,
The place
This place
This room that
That I am
That I am supposed
Supposed to
Call
Home

Veiled By Black Lace

What is this thing called life?
Supposedly a miracle at the start?
The miracle of life - on it's own - a beating heart.
What kind of miracle is that?
It's no miracle at all, as a matter of fact.
It's a life ruiner, a dream stopper too,
a goodbye to the future, a hello to the colors of pink or blue.
One night is all it takes, to change the course of life forever,
a night of fun, not meant to be a life wrecker.
Margaritas in and out of my hand like a bouncing ball,
I had enough - that was my final call.
Sweet words were said in persuasion,
I was stubling all over - he knew my situation.
Still pursuing - linking hands - a kiss on the cheek,
I couldn't fight anymore - I was just too weak.
When morning came, he kissed me goodbye -
promising a call, and then dinner and a movie -
he gazed into my eyes and smiled.
There was no call, or a dinner and a movie,
only a broken promise in the air forever lingering.
Weeks passed - weeks of me crying.
Crying - wondering why he wasn't trying.
He left me high and dry - to fend for myself -
the pain flowing through me - rich in wealth.
To find out that I was just "the girl" of the week,
and that he had a new "me" every week,
it tore my heart out -
he said that he was different -
and I believed him - having no doubt.
But here I am writing down my story as usual,
not sure what to make of what's going on.
Jagged black branches forming across my face,
although the tears are falling faster than normal,
forming a black veil of lace.
This veil covers a face; my face.
A face that shows nothing but confusion and hurt -
watching life pass her by,
as she doesn't know what to do with it,
and doesn't want anything to do with hers.

a bit extensive but it's real

And love is that simple sweet rhythm that only the lucky ones feel. It's the pounding heart, the rush of blood to your ears because...do I look the part? It's the migration of thoughts to emotions to a faith you can touch. It's never wanting to look away, only wishing we knew how to say...all the beats and pulses and jumping we feel, the butterflies in the tummy feeling that used to be bad. And I...what does it mean to be sad? Because you forget anything that doesn't remind you of their smell, a touch of skin(s), "good-night"s that end with "good morning beautiful"s. Love feels like walking by a lilac bush with a summer breeze holding your hand, and if you could ride a shooting star or remember your first tw0-wheeler bike or drink strawberry milk every day...that's what love is like. It's like losing your breath, not knowing quite why. It's loyalty and devotion and an undying desire to smile at the thought...of...a single person. It's incredible that another, one other, human being can make me, us, feel so many...feelings I never knew we had. It's giggling at ice cream dripping down a chin making polka dots on his ever-so-plain bright white t-shirt. It's forgetting to care what your hair looks like for popcorn, movies, and sweats nights. It's never-minding that I look silly in his hat, only caring that he thinks I'm cute. Love is how I become taller, stronger, wiser and quiet(er?) (because who needs lips to tell what eyes can show?) It's making cookies and brownie batter wars, super-soaker sneak-attacks and laying on (real) grasslaughing until it hurts. It's not wanting to fall asleep because you don't need to escape like dreamers do. And love is raspberry chocolate left on my tongue, velveteen lips and brand-new painted toe nails. Love is your quirky idiosyncrasies out in the open; it's black ties and flip-flops and guitar solo love melodies. Love is trust. Love is penetrating stares. Love is beauty unprecedented. And love is...and love is...everything you never thought you'd find (but you want to, you have to) and being scared but excited but unsure but giddy all at once because...LOVE is.

Dead.

i don't know if anybody's out there to hear me
but i do know that everybody in the world is a zombie
walking around, seeking cranial nutrition aimlessly
the guy who seems to sleep on the other bed is a discrepancy
he looks human but his face is full of zombie traits
blank and lacking thought when he acts awake
little does he know that late-late at night, i don't sleep, i wait
he'll arise in his dream state with eyes searching for life to take
knowing that i've been there waiting, remaining awake
preparing for the moment that my life he will take
but i won't go out that quick i won't let his presence stick
i'll stay awake until the morning arrives
once it does i'll sleep through class knowing the zombies won't try
to walk into my room and suck my brain out through my eye
and the morning star awakes and i become a new being
revolving around the thoughts and actions of sleeping
i snore and at dusk i'll rise
waiting again for the zombies to try

~Overwhelming fear of zombies. overwhelming co-dependancy.

Love,
Digress' panel of insecurity and hysteria.

Wake Up

You are...my chiped nails.

You are...my unpainted toes
for every season.

You are...my crucked crown toe ring,
on my left foot.

You are...my spakler
on the fourth of july.

You are...the hop
in my step.

You are...my bitter sweet
alarm.

Don't be the last one
to wake
me
up.

Ride

I am...your unfinished ride
ready to be rebuilt.

I am...its first paint job
since easter.

I am...grand opening.

I am...the highlight in the newspaper
your interview.

I am...

I won't be its first
breakdown.

the pianist

This is the building I call home
yet no bed occupies the space
I see no pictures of babies or siblings or pets
there's no trace of me here...

In this great wide expanse of earth and learning and people
I feel lost
I feel squashed
I am small

Yet in this single structure I am
alive
whole
....calm

A spirit of greatness is ever present
and I feel it penetrate my soul
as I play

I am a musician, an artist, a magician

the notes sing (words you and I don't know)
the sound is rich
the plink plink of the notes heals my pain
and I

......find peace

Bright Eyes, And A Beautiful Soul.

eyes bright- she undresses
her soul, right there
before my eyes
i [hissss- buzzzzz]
am attracted
i [hissss- buzzzzz]
fall victim of her beauty
and i [hisssss- buzzzzz]
connect with her lips

i feel the [hissss
...................... buzzzzz]
of our electric connectivity
and our analogue attraction
jokes, stories and experience
not to mention the desire of.......

for her a million kisses couldn't
quite capture how much
i [hisssss- buzzzzz] care
for her
nor could they replace me
when i'm [a
.................way] for weeks at a time
[ticktocktick tock tick.....tock]
time counts down until the next
...................................................Kiss....................................

PPPHHMMMMMAAAAAUUUUUHHHHHHHHH!


~Will you remember the days, placed in nooks, and laying on beds? while the music still plays.


Love,
Digress.

Looking for puddles

He looks at it, planning it, forecasting it.
He bites down hard on his lip, staring and glaring at it.
But I don’t look at it like he does. I look at it and smile and giggle a little
I look at you and ask you how beautiful it is, and see you smile.
We would both take off our coats,
that makes us the same,
But he would hand you his, put it over your shoulders, and rush you to his car
Pulling you out of the way of puddles.
He’ll tell you to hurry into your house,
And get out of it,
He’ll tell you it’s bad, it’s a bad night.
I wouldn’t hand you my coat,
unless you asked for it.
I would drop it on my porch, and walk you to the street.
Then I would smile at you, and tell you that you were right
It is beautiful.
And then I would race you home, letting you splash me with all the big puddles
(even if I see them first).
And maybe then I would stand with you in your front yard,
And tell you how beautiful you are.
And maybe then you won’t want to go into your house,
You won’t want to get out of it.
And maybe you’ll tell me that it’s a good night
It’s the best night.

Minor Scrapes and Brusies

i wake up in this hospital bed
white lights flashing, i can't grip my head
things swivel and fade out of sight
i don't know if this is day or night
i'm chained down with stress written on my face
what is this place? or is this a phase?
doctors rush in and attempt to control my sense
its not gonna work, the injuries are too intense
blood shoots from here to there, but no pain felt
i'm doped up with drugs that keep me from hell
i fade back to black, creating a prison cell

i can't believe i'm right here
injured but still able to think clear
i can't believe i'm still here
injured but able to feel the fear
i can't believe that you're here
injured but you survived

back on the road to life
i'm heading away with my girl in the seat
she's got her mind on the heat
miles more to go, and we can get off the street
out the car and we can feel our hearts beat
the traffic clears and i push the pedal down
i feel like we're traveling faster than sound
it starts to rain so i slow up, as not to drown
she seems relieved by the looks of things
downhill we go right toward our dreams

i can't believe i'm right here
injured but still able to think clear
i can't believe i'm still here
injured but able to feel the fear
i can't believe that you're here
injured but you survived

crashes and screams surround my nightmare themes
all around, no escape, i can't move nor wake
finally i pull up the courage to escape
eyes open and lock on hers as she begins to shake
gets up and walks away from the incident
i'm on pavement red with blood and an unusual tint
me and shattered glass go looking for my consequence
paramedics scrape me up and put me in the ambulance
faces fade to black and i'm in a state worse than trance

I just can't believe you survived
i can't believe you'll stay at my side
injured your perfection
you must have been ejected the proper direction
i just can't believe you still love me
can't believe you don't want to flee

~Bravery in certian circumstances.

Love,
Digress.

Looking for something you can feel; something you can hold

As long as everyone is writing about love, this was the first paper i wrote for my creative writing class up at CU.

Love rides a little lopsided, with scratched here and there,
Built up from the wear and tear, when times seemed to tough to bear.
It’s the click and a clack in your heart,
And the slow steady dark, when forgiveness is given to start,
And two souls meet and set a mark.
Love is tested, and chipped and scratched,
But still radiating precision cuts, designed to last.
It’s the taste of too many hands, to many tears,
And the barrier of years, breading those moments of absolutely no fears.
Love is like a motionless memory, and a persevering remedy.
It’s those moments at night when the light is right,
And the cold chill bites, and breathing isn’t right, your chest squeezes tight.
Love is a sigh of relief, when you suck a breath deep
And your nose to your lungs feel the wintergreen heat.
So what is love?
Love is when you aren’t scared to die, cause you’ll never be more alive

Oh and Leyba, i have a sweet creative writing intro to show you next time i come down, or ill email it or something if i can find a scanner

brave

hips grinding and drunken mistakes
it's like a movie with no good outtakes
breathing for the intake and feeling for the heartache
blindly, we all watch for the pagebreak

find a good excuse to pass that bottle
press the gas and 'blip' that throttle
stupid ass decisions, head-on collisions
you do it to yourself

sorry i'm not happy
let me apologize for myself