\Untitled...

love,,

like knife.,

smears

madly

from

who.

and

she

said

he

want like

void.

and

always i

 Want

for how

inside the diner the tension grew

inside the diner the people are quiet. the waitresses are dressed in a sort of light blueish smock reminiscent of hospital garb. and the whole place looks oddly sanitized. the people sit in comfort as they slowly talk below there breath. as i continue to stand there for a moment of fleeting confusion. a young girl greets us in a soft subtle voice as if avoiding to wake the dead. she stands in a upright and most proper matter. her hair a sunned down blonde. tied back and with a pair of glasses that appear to be a extension of her face. she points out a booth to the back and to the right. and as i look over the menu i order the breakfast special. as the young lady hovers over us glaring down with a glowing dispositon. i face my way across the table and crack a smile. and i can still remember her when she's young. the older she gets though the seemingly more youthful she becomes. an i find myself just then in a state of almost none existence. my mouth won't open and the words glimmer and fade before they fall out of me in mid air. the feeling begins to dim slowly as i start to ask her how she became to get herself in here. she begins to tell me that after i left the problems i had continued to worsen. as if some bubble had burst and the devil had took housing somewhere inside me. ''you always had that quality about you that made everything just kind of wash away. as if all my trouble s had not been there to begin with. '' i sat there, as the flood gates opened and all the memories past came rolling in with the piled up mounds with disease called guilt. and i had no idea, i made things this way. and again she began to speak. '' i don't blame you though.'' '' it would have came boiling up no matter if you where there or not''. i looked at here trying my best to bring my voice up and over my chest. '' i had no idea. it's all my fault then''. '' i am so sorry. for i have regretted that day every since''. everyday afterwards the thought of you would gather up inside me, trying to spew out as i tended to lock them away''. she looked at me sweet eyed and tired. '' really, believe me when i say it's not your fault''. '' you know the childhood i had, i have never blamed you and i never will''. now please lets forget this drab talk, i want to hear more about you''.and so i began. i told her about my marriage, how it had ended, and my life afterward up until this point. omitting the things i thought to early. and so on and so forth. our food showed and the morning went and turned into the rest of the day right in front of us outside or window. we talked about nonsense and times past. but even then all through the day my conscience still bugged me about the reason i came here in the first place. as my nerves where racked. and my mind fogged.

in the morning the light is stifled. as it tries to make its way through the blinds on the window beside me. i get up and make my way to the living room just outside. i get ready, dressed and suddenly hear the slightest knock on the door. i walk over and turn the knob as it creaks and moans and makes its way open. and there she stood. so beautiful. as her hair huddled down against her shoulders. her eyes a cosmological event. she always had this graceful obscurity to her. something thats out there for everyone and only me too see. as her lips moved the earth shook. ''well good morning sleepy. i thought maybe you would like to go get some breakfast maybe. talk'' . i looked at her with a grin, a smile, and off we went to the diner attached to the main house. as we walked outside through the halls and disappeared in the distance. i continued to ask her what kind of place is this anyway. she gave a little laugh and went on to tell me it is a kind of commune, a hospital, a place for people to come and wind down from whatever troubles they might have.

((part two)#..................................................

the stale air outside is dying, and the temperature drops with every minute the day is dead. i knock on the door and the sound reverberates through the walls and echo's in my heart. and as the door creaks open her face is beautiful. and her scornful eyes are happy. her hair is long and as dark as death. with it down, messy and half covering her face. she begins to ask me what i am doing here. and as i might recall me saying that my heart grows weary. inviting me in i find the rooms are full, and the desk in front lays lonely and full of dust. ''and i am sorry i came so late i had to one last time see you''. she gives me this puzzled look, shakes it off, and tell s me that we should talk in the morning as the night is short. '' the guest rooms in the house in the back if you don't mind.'' i nod and begin to follow her down the dark narrow hallway through the house that has no end. she set s me down and the walls are cracked, and chipping with the green paint that falls from the walls. as the light fictures set the room a buzz. the windows are glazed, and the furniture is set in a somewhat idiosyncratic pattern. a strange smell seems to emanate from the walls. from what i cant seem to tell from what form it came. the rug of a dead bear lay in the centre as if hibernating in the shackles of humanity. and in the back to the right lay the bedroom. i make my way over and turn the lights on. inside the room lay bare. a bed, simple side table, and the same cracks in the ceiling that i saw in the walls before. and a nights sleep right now might be the best thng for me. so i turn myself in. and as sleep comes over and the night grows dim.

rise up my mountains and raise the dead.

as i rise up the mountain the trees grow thick, and the sky goes black. the animals dance on the side of the road as the headlights stare out and over the pavement watching ever so subtle movements. and the shadows fall through the cracks of the oncoming light. the frost outside is taking bites of my windshield. and the smell is aggravating. as the city grows dim. the road ahead is going back and forth and thrown all over. my mind wanders in blank statements of unconscious death. and my palms sweat. as the heaters on. i turn the corner and the lights are off. so pulling in the driveway, i stop, open the door, and hear the crunch of the frost below my feet. the air hits me suddenly and begins to huddle against my chest. making it hard to breathe. up ahead the door is closed. the curtains drawn. and the moon is beautiful. i start up the stairs with a sigh in my chest, a step in my feet. and up ahead she's been dead for years. and years before.

at the end of the night, my hands are dead...

you want

love, that can't

be true.

my heart

is out, and

my hands are

through..

as your eyes

do glow,

(morning dew)

and my

life is over.

when i have

you.

driftawaymysleepless giant...

drift away my

ssleepless giant,

and find yourself

on a sea of silent...

(silence)

fog machine..-

and dance away,,

to the middle grey.

the hapless man

and the perfume cave.

and the days go bye w/death in hand

I am not.

with not him.

day go bye.

(have no whim)

i do think,

for not him.

so lets have not,

to tell 'em..

the unbearable emptiness of being.

my house is a hill. and my feet like mountains. as i climb up to the top every day in and day out. all the while sleeping at the bottom. and as i finally get to the top. i find that the summit is cold, deserted. and dead. and the snow drifts silently in the night.

and this is how i feel everyday i get home. a married man for four years now. even though the last year or so has been, how do i say, distant. living in a home with a stranger i think i might have one time known. and my foot steps echo in the hall ways, bounce off the walls and give me a slight feeling i am not alone. i can feel her warmth next to me as the night makes its way through the room. our conversations are stagnant. and it doesnt seem like she can look me in the eye.

i have tried many time s to surprise her. gifting her when she first get s home. but she is not really here. and sometimes i am not really sure if i am either. i like to walk throughout the city to get away from the mitigated disaster i so reluctantly call home. and the city is a quiet sound. so full of noise. death. and the clashing of emotional opposition.

i can still remember when we first met. so full of love. togethor the two of us fighting off the hazards of the outside world. and everything back then was so colorful. so full of hope. (and destiny). the first time i layed eyes on her i knew one day we would be one. chasing her for as long as i know. and the day it finally came to fruition. and these are my thoughts as i rumble around the city of the dead. the buildings hovering over each other. as coffee shops litter the streets like dead animals. and sometimes i feel all is lost. but i wont go down without a fight.

everyone will eventually someday leave you

leave
with must

sleep by after

but what
will he

felt have
after

less do think

(and run
did he)

hers will hit
in time me.......

sitting on the branches of trees

why would you
gone away

some stare
honey

ache and
pain

has he only,
love like
they

all but
could, weak
with pain...

bitter death...

bitter
death of
men. are
not.

(say)

ask her
screaming
forest

andstill
...

watch the
drooling
water swim
in sea...

Inthegrips of yourSparrowinghands (or excerpts from)

As i look over the man gives me a wink in his all but dead face. his eyes are graves. and his fingers tap on the wood as if i am ever second closer to being on the six o clock news. Outside the sun falls through the clouds and warms the streets. and people do parade in an individualistic stereotype of one another. all is calm. the cold has subsided (somewhat) and the sun irradicates the clouds above. I start off down the street as the storefront windows glisten and glow and call me over. and in the corner of my eye the diner begins to show up. I pause for a bit, mull it over and decide maybe i should stop by for a appearance. Inside the seats are empty, the floors are cracked. and the fans whirrr, hum and try to make their way free. behind the counter a lady stands leaning over and bored. her skin is attempting to drop to her knees. and the sparkle in her eyes are lightbulbs in the process of going dim.

Lets go dancing said the wildflower to the grassroots

lets go inside and find the area of expertise that has self contained itself in order for your wonderful stimulation process. to run through the patterns and i lost my head once. my eyes wont look at me anymore. and my hands change bodily fluids without me knowing. my hairs afraid of itself and my nose keeps complaining about the smell. my heart fell apart and joined my knees. my arms are ugly but my chest disagrees. i have a fine ass my friend just ask my teeth. my eyebrows have rampant discussions with each other while my ears are being cleaned. and did i tell you my back talks behind my back while i am not looking. my chins a feminist and goes to rallies to meet chicks. it brings them home and has wild misinterpretations with them. my bald head is balding and is thinking of and dismemberment plan. my head aches and my eyes are sore. wonderful witty and not withstanding my bottom lip has sexual aggression towards my upper lip.
lets go dancing said the wildflower to the grassroots. we are different but the weather is sure nice and the trees shall be jealous. the orchids are my only friend said the redrose petal to the tulip but be sure i am not not falling for your husband. the dirt is clean i washed it last night. the spoon is embracing the knife you say. lets go claim the bedroom window is having relations with the kitchen whore the coffee table. you see one and most likely you see the other. my light bulbs a genius it can generate its own electricity. lets have it down mister bossman your memory has already told me the facts. my bodies going thru a tough time right now and it would appreciate it if you would apologize.

Outside the lights are damaged, and the people are gone. the buildings are mournful, and the window is fogged up. the apartment inside my house is dead silent. and i 'm lonely, still (and half dead). all the eyes on the outside are on me, the walls are talking. and the dripdripdripping of the faucets driving me anywhere but down. i woke up this morning in a house that isnt mine, the world past my fogged up window is not my own. and i dont know what to do with myself. this life before me was not very prosperous in the first place. so my mind races through the empty rooms and begin to start to make up things on its own. maybe i should venture forth, out the door and into the hall. or maybe i should stay here and wait for this world to end (or start up again) . and so i determine to get up and try my hand at the door that opens to a world that isnt there. i figure, whats the worst that could happen. i might not exist anyways...

In a beautiful lonileness of a hazy dream.

outside the ice is retreating, floating back in the air from whinst it came. and the sky is a darkish grey. the cold emanates my bones and breaks the spirits, but the day has just begun.
my tiny apartment seems to slowly swallow me whole. and i sit on my bed. fully dressed, with my grey suit on. staring at the cracks in the wall. awaiting for the time to get up and go. today is the day of the first day on the job. doing papers and paperwork, watching the people through the windows pass by on there constant attempt at non instability. and just now from thinking about it i am feeling tired. last night was a dismal dream, dreaming of being able to sleep.
and as the clock rings out , calling me to my feet. i slowy get up and differentiate myself from the chair. and so i put my gloves on, open the door, and let in another day. as i walk down the street i find the people are huddled against themselves. their breathe frozen in mid air just out in front of them. and the clouds scatter the sky like a broken windshield. the buildings tower overhead like desolate mountains. and the wind spins through the city freezing everything to the bone.
the city seems quite when in the grips of death. the cars are glazed over skeletal remains. and strange creatures huddle in not wanting to come out. and its wierd how the city works. small villages withen greater cities. where on your street you know most everyone. and i cant help but say hello to the few and far between. and my nerves are racking up like mountains. as the view from here is desolate and lonely.
i have never been the one to make friends, never knew quite how. like some great barrier surrounds me. blocked off from the world. never has stopped me from trying though.
and now its the city that turns a subtle grey, as the fog moves in masking the city in a dull glaze. and everything seems to appear out of nowhere. showing there face shortly while in the midst of fading away. now that i think about it. it almost seems like the ingrediant of life, that everyone will eventually someday leave you.

everywhere i look i find myself staring back

everything is cold in the dead of night, people are wandering the dark corners of the city. afraid to show there faces. the streets put on a different face in the blanket of darkness. the windows are watching you and the buildings are hiding in plain sight. and so i have not too far yet. my eyes scan the far reaches of the earth. penetrating the darkness with closed eyes. and i dont know what might happen, and i dont know how i might fall. and do i see a dark figure by my side. do i see a ghost. so now i keep on walking , just a little faster. and the door up ahead is reaching out for me. but with a quite stint of madness. i find myself pulling open, and fallen through.

untitled.

the streets are lighted up like street lights. and the buildings are hollow. the side walks are flooded with trees. and the air is dense. all the people walk tirelessly throughout the city. but my days are long. and have been. for what seems like years.

for my days have ended for so many years now. my eyes are black and my mind is fogged up with unnessecary incarnations of death. and now seems like a good time to go. for the clouds are parting. and the sun is on its way.

the endless cataclysm of old ideas...


I am your broken heart.... and all i want to do is breathe. i am my own guilty pleasure... cause all i want is your disease. the nights crackle, and the days sing... like trees.