time and time again

with just a look we were,

alone and free to be the one thing that was meant and the other-

she told me to do so much

told me it was the end of the line, and since there was nothing to lose,

she told me to be her surrogate-

it makes me mad , it makes me laugh

my position was my role, and to exceed my necessity would be presumptuous

delusions of purging the sense of self preservation

can it be made aware that the far reaches are part of the equation.

She said hold me when she was cold, and when we walked in she held out her arm to simulate our copulation.


zero people in my future,

still waiting, and I’m sitting right through the way,

just waiting ?

bug me later-

she’ll be here.


not in these words, in any-words?

who doesn’t like me as much as I think-

Do you miss me,

this isn’t our childhood,

would you bet your hands on it?

Thinking about It we can only realize that you are driving me crazy and

I would rather you not hate me,

-I don’t know

I know you

are you nervous,

why today

just want to talk about art-

about the color Grey-


sometimes the best thing about getting burned is never letting it happen again- amongst turmoil one always feels engulfed within its waves cresting upon us- and the rapid recycled energy has a way of…

being repetitive, but in the end an intrigue for the new and the unknown is the catalyst for diminishing a bad memory