Let's light the trees on fire

there are too many trees

so I draw just one

just so infinity of stars

I only see the sun

the ground is covered with grass and leaves

I decided to believe only in the weeds

the clock cried one

I saw 11

We jumped the broom

& made heaven

that one time.

And the crow cried four?

I nod my head

u tongue a response

I lay in bed

ur hair's in knots

A change in wind

u change ur ways

& 

I write you love songs

on saturdays

~Oh, paper machete-

I am scrawling ever so slowly 

but you only read my face

even if I were to write you love songs

you'd say, "you don't feel what you mean"

and every ink spot and every page blot intrigues you so

Even if I were to ask you in a note with an eloquent pen

you'd say, "every story's a lie

and every word is a sin."

Encounter with a mathematician

You hung  upon me like a broken limb

Ever so young-far from developed- you chose me like a whim

I still pray upon the sky to save me

From the overbearing  power you suggest at my ear

You offer me all I can ever imagine to fear

So far you've shown me 

away from the path

Love, you say, is 

a simple mental math

Shadows on a moonlight Path.

I held you on a string of stars once

You were the most delicate jewel I owned

I threw you with a wish into a pond

You were to erode

amongst the other rough diamonds 

that once shone

But you waned like the moon

stealing me away from the night sky

Nothing but the other clouds blocked you from my sight 

ever again

I no longer wish upon any other star, because you are the star that will never fall. 

the shadows find their way to your neck.

killing sounds are put on repeat

 help hotlines ring incessantly

 the sirens sing with the ravens

 in the night sky

 the suffering is endless

 oh,

 and the writers are left inside their imaginations

 the paper has been burned

 we are all trapped

 nobody can remember the art that sung from our fingertips

 that we created from our lips

 we struck down the cross on the sandcastle

but it would be washed away anyway

 nothing satisfies the taste of late

 tie the noose on our string of fate...

And the mirror was her friend (whatever happened to that?)

 i find it troublesome to open the letter

but i can't give it up in my head

 when i roll my eyes across the line

 and toss the the paper in the recycling bin

 it appears once more

 underneath my pen

my hand shakes- too much coffee i'm sure

 my hand shakes- in my late teens i'm getting older

 this happens to everybody--

 hell, i keep denying me.

xx/xx/xx

oh i am---

the n#mbers in your body

second to the pain, the pain

to stop the fragile

 (from) collapsing

 did you check the date

the rate @ which i destroy

or are you challenging God's time?

 oh i am---

the quantity of the masses

 infinity of the sane, the sane

 to start the denial

 (from) exuding

 did you check the state

 the state @ which you destroy

 or are you challenging God's time?

 oh i am---

A/N: the parentheses are meant for the word to be read with the line and without the line.

Cellular Decision

the telephone sounds as the sirens do in the distance

a sense of doom is waiting to be heard, answered

 if you don't pick up the caller will wait on you in a message

it can play on repeat

 again

and

again

but that hasn't happened yet

should you wait by the telephone all alone?

you should be the one making the calls

because once you pick up the receiver,

all you can hear is the dial tone--------------------------

The Month of Delay

a smoker's delight echoes in the atmosphere

 the words the words

 how odd they appear

 the page is blank even before you begin to draw

 the colors, you hum, the colors

 you can't even remember what you saw

 "it must suck to be blind" you think

this is the experience of a continuing week.

the death of a patient

i watch the leaves day by day

 i watch the way they sway and sway

tickling a decision:delay delay

i want to remain-to stay

"the leaves fall and decay" you say

i remember when you went away

 i think the trees are watching me

they are so still-they look so--almost black

they don't shake with humor any more

 i think they've imprisoned me.