.lend me the ocean.

We met where the ocean spoke green
you saw me better than i could see myself as i stand in this mirror
my hips and chest spoke literacy better than you could form
but you shaped me
into this figure i could never draw and always used to
disrespect
i see me in you.
our spines melt
into insecurity as you peeled sadness
from your bones and remembered what it was like
to be whole
you make me like to be me
you make me beautiful
you make me hate myself
i don’t like the way these legs
stand
upright
touching.
i like the way your hands
arms
and chin
touch.
reap me clean from these
blurred images and perfection
you see me
i am me.
this mind speaks love as you turn
past young clocks that tick too fast but make time
easier to say goodbye to.
You. Me. We.
our line hasn’t stopped and this pencil still drags
across the page
pick it up.
write your name.


lend me your shoulder blades.
lend me your smell.
give me back what I saw
when love let lights burst
into a thousand colors as you smiled
and took me.

lend me you.

.hang this speaker from the clouds.

.we the mighty.

sew the palms of our eyes with

.wire.

.we the broken.

wait for hearts to bleed heat from the

.ice fire.

heavy-footed and broken-kneed

we will throw our shoulders to the sea

featureless tongues

we begin sleep with eyes closed open
as our shoulders carry stones into dreams
we throw plates at the sunlight
who peers through chicken wired doors

i’ll tuck you in over my throat.

you called the casket
i was the pallbearer
to this sunny morning shadow
with graves wide closed
we loved like slanted echoes

blankets could not warm cold twined feet
we swung from the ceiling and tore tendered hearts
my wrists twist to your tightened skin
you talked with elbows
as our spines met the wall

we wear tape across our lips
carefully knitting ourselves into imagination
carved into sunken cheeks

.shattered in barked veins.

rusted trees reap broken colors.
losing limbs and leaves and beauty
as cold shatters its barked veins.
never letting up to warmth
the trees grew weak.
happiness is only as good as you
make it.
sometimes
squared edges don’t match up
sometimes
she gets jealous of the dying.
always
she wishes for spring.

i once knew a girl.
a girl with torn limbs
the type that come after unexpected snowstorms and icicles born from rain.
she gave the world herself.
the world gave her shattered souls and broken glass hopes.
never letting up to see her light
just bringing storms without the raincoat.

.shutters past closed windows.

the man went to the window
not to open but to keep beats
past percussion of ties and knots
formed by curtains too curiously opened
never closed full enough to touch
you spoke now and I left forever
on the side of a bar at the last call

buckled elbows, achy knees

my body hurts today.

while i can't explain it i can't fight it.

maybe it is the thought of you leaving.

maybe it is just the health slowly draining from my pores.

i don't know.

i don't care.

my knees buckled as i said goodbye.

and.

my elbows ache from trying to hug forever out of you.

my heart hurts today.

maybe this time i'll cry.

probably not.

Fuck it.

i will sleep instead.

that is the one thing this body and i agree on.

devils in our palms, (light lights love's love-handles but never cornered corners)

it’s funny how things work.
we walk armless ...

with good intentions placed where our necks meet our shoulders,

but always with devils in our touching palms.
we weather storms

but too quickly break our oars before we reach the islands
who are we to intimidate segregated feelings?
who was we?
we race along this love life lit lifeless loveless path,
in dreams to one day meet the window
when do we shut the door?
when do grey clouds turn light to day and night to existence?

.rain.man.

The rain man came one day.

With a heart made of thunder and puddles of conversation to light the way. He spoke of the universe. Of things once accepted and things never understood. Of medicine and addicts and wined lips and sin. He left her broken. Shattered to the stars with no negative space to hold her in place.

When he returned again, her heart spoke soiled pasts. Nervous, she jumped into the rain man’s puddles again. Only to be left sucked dry and thrown into the sea.

As she drowned, she said goodbye to the heartless.

... kismet ...

friends manage to blow brains of existence aside
full heads wait

saying goodbye is never easy
but you blur outlines beyond description

i twine
in confusion.

farewell
and wait …
you leave to foreign countries as
stars make stares unfavorable …

for different minds to sort different coherence
accept what is
moreover, what should be?
but ifs and shoulders are so easily thrown
when scratchy throats aren’t purged

ingemination.

knives sculpted into birds
clipped of wings
always in hopes

play hearts like others play promises
never knowing how effects affect beings

hearts are hard
nevertheless, soft with
second times

hurt …
forevers hurt worse.

spain waits and others call for broken hearts like their own
forgetting what spades felt like when aces were drawn

immeasurable eyes
built gutters in dams and ponds

goodbye to europe …

finalmente, en este segundo capitulo
tener cuidado con la pintura
tirarlos
no todos los corazones son como la sombra que los suyos greyly

gutter.

rain squares heavy on unabled
postures and I find myself missing
the way my feet meet the
puddles your gutter forms
more than I want to or
every thought I would ...

fixed in parenthesis

history nourishes broken swings while lovers
bring gifts of cut-out, disposable

hearts to walk, scissors in hand with this army
to win the battle of love but

lovers never win and blue skies often rot into a
reprehensible burial ground of paper mached souls

from the funeral, weeping willows walk through
labyrinths, lanterns-lit, just enough to glow pale

flesh to hope, but leaving stomachs clenched for earth-
quakes. they shuffle with blistered palms

until two meet with incompatible motives in common
brows and begin to cook this raw creation. anchors

drop as they breath water into wordless cups
voices learn to drink the tears. trades made of

cleavers for touches, until time's stare brings
the slaughter,
bleeding the slits from each other's wrists

...to the shrimp...

here is my offering of an unpolished friendship
one that is serrated and can cut deep enough to scar...
but i will pour myself through this strainer
so these healthy pieces of me can fill you up
and use white-out on my imperfections
so that your story remains perfect
because we can never see past these bridges we've built
in order to block our horizons
but i'm alright when you're alright...
stomachs often hold on to hurt much longer
than hearts do
creating a corset wall to block out anything that means something
while in these grey skies we thrive
leaving shadows across our eyes...
sharp stings revive us
and we are never more alive then when we are damaged and departed...
the wind fills us up with negative space
while we draw our insecurities across our backs
and all float away separately...
even though i don't have the glue or strength to hold you,
shattered together,
with mountains and skyscrapers that keep you in your fortress...
i can build you a break
to free your somber branches
because you cant stop thinking
and bends eventually break when
your face is all wet from things i cant fix...
ill like your depression
and swollen wrists...
because we are all
helpless and withered at some point

interpersonal swimming pool: sections of the deep end

life is not the same now
smiles graze these sullen cheeks
like those who shine sunlight
but my being remains dark
like the shadows
i place myself
in

why stay?
in this place
frequent thoughts
speak with much
persuasion

i tend to feel best when my
eyes are closed
so i think just may stay
this way for
a while

and happiness is nothing
but a liar
it said it would always
be there
and being is nothing but a game
because it steals pieces of you
when you need them the
most

i feel like a stranger
in my most comfortable
skin
and while i watch these
eyes water to the top
i secretly ring them out
until they are dry...
so no one
sees

and for a moment,
i thought the world of
life
but the sun sank
and the oceans burned
dark...

i think ill roll my pants
and walk into this ocean
so that the water only graces my
feet

just to lick these wounds until
they are clean again
so they may be stitched and left
to heal without any noticeable
scars

because these photographs keep me
alive
but i for now remain
stale

tired corners and windows of aries.

i like the way you fit so nicely
into the corner of my heart
a place where it can't be taken
but won't ever be reached again

i have packed my bags
and while it is heavy on my shoulders
and hurts my heart to leave
i feel content to be traveling
away from something
i won't ever forget

so lend me a minute
lets make this right...
but right doesn't mean any more
than an ease of a heart
once broken...
and now content

now i build my profile out of glass,
one that easily shatters
but is even easier to see me inside
no more hiding
because it doesn't take much to get me
it just takes time to understand

i like your silhouette,
and everything that it interprets
but i am not done looking
so i'll stand here a little longer

because i am ok.
i am just fine
i have sewn pieces back together
and even though they have thicker thread
they have learned to let loose when needed

i now see
that metal hearts and armoral
aren't always safe
and clean dashboards are often unnecessary

i lend you this map of me
from minds to you
so keep it on your shelf
just in case you need reference...
a way out of corners and shadows

because far too often
light sheds light
in the most unexpected places

migration.

life lives
words speak
hearts bleed
leaving summer flesh bruised
with splotches of life cut too short,
and broken window fixes for those
who can't seem to find happiness...
so they steal others

my muscles hurt from too much work
and my veins are swollen from lost friendships
once placed on pedestals of california beginnings

spring brought full hearts,
but summer left one broken
and fast came health which shattered
into tubes of research i tend to sleep in
more often than my bed

true friendships reigned through
insecure others insecurities...
those who bring comfort and ease
with little effort

now,
the summer's blood rushes somewhere silent
while words with meaning disappear into memories

but,
fall is fragile and weak in the knees...
hearts and bodies freeze broken until spring
fills their pockets with new water

tonight,
i sit on this back porch and unravel everything
turning these days into old days,
days worth remembering

vacancy: the ballad of broken cigarettes

a justification for the broken hearted and wounded souls
i felt much better before it all
my heart was safe.

but with you
we can set our hearts on fire
and though they will eventually turn to ash...
watching them burn will make it worth it.

we will become fragments
of fingertips and motions of lips lost
in trains of irrationality and whirlwinds.

and while these statues of apollos wait with belated breaths
we will sit..
on this fresh cut grass
to graciously gasp each other in.

but one day our bodies will sit
in silence
even though our minds break words
only long enough to take a thought.

words that mean more than words
will never be let out
but much thought overtime
which will ultimately lead to our deterioration.

regardless for this time being
you ease my mind from left hands and achilles heels...
so i am content with the stories
these walls will never get to tell.

your architectural functioning
leaves me lost in equations
and for once..
simplicity feels nice.

my heart stopped beating a while ago
so i must apologize
but my veins still manage to pump enough blood to sustain me...
and keep me on this floor we sit on.

your lips don't compare..
and your feet are too clean...
i think that's what i like best about you.

the world is a place
where hearts are combined but
plagued with an overbearing sense of crumbling dysfunction.

insecurities mask unwanted hurts
and cold shoulders hide forbidden feelings
from once loved collarbones.

I like how
you like the way
i disintegrate.

lets crumble together.

no hearts included.

ivory

let's undress these street lights

while we crack to peel these stars from collision

and share thoughts formed from hand soap bubbles

repetition in a modern sewer...

limbs like oil
water like minds
we come together in perfect layers
and separate exceptionally

sepia

a snarl,
these feet stand alone
together on this rock bottom surface

gary bower knows best

arms and limbs tangled in wrists and knees
shape past perfection as a portrait shaped by elements all combine to form a picture
like the illusory semblance of a phantasmagoria
or
the mere creation of a distempered brain...

yet feelings never prevalent so much as when
embalmed in your fingertips and calculatedly configured legs...

and while these eases of the past
comforting and safe chemical equations...
shape the grounds of skyscrapers
your vibrantly vicious sunsets of rooftop worlds...set apart
hearts finally at ease but never
easily forgotten skies seemed blood orange until
your appendages painted my mindful cosmos trouble-hearted red and never pink

lovers entrapped into geometric forms
form simple equations i am yet to fully work through...
rain clouds burrow and set camp above my stars
as our clouds separate to disperse
once loved liked friends become always never forgotten memories

i seem to fade into you as water fades to grey
after too much black paint pollution...
but
one-sided feeling
only reflects onto
one-walled emotion
so i hold this choke in my throat
slowly sinking to the bottom of this with eyes and hearts wide shut...
what could have and will never again be

regardless of miscalculations and unequivocal conclusions
i have to feel blessed to study and interpret
outcomes unlike plausible outcomes proved
right answers aren't the only answers
they simply and accutely form accepted right ninety-degree ankles

i like our x and y's
so gracefully they created an equation unlike any other
and seemingly enough will never be executed
no matter how much the
past meets present
mathematicians effect or disprove our theories

so thank you.
and sweet dreams
to this
present
that makes me anxious to meet you in the
future
and for the moment...
keeps my shaky wrists
colorlessly at ease