sight [what is seen]

you stare
the rumor
of a lie
your smile

your lips
fine lines
of concentration

sweat beads
your forehead
into a mosaic
of shimmers
for pictures
of the inside

silent movie
your body
and raving
in the grey

steady now
as the jumping
red dots
laser guided
the grains
of my haze

borders [merging]

Curved glass lends stolen light
to eyes catching its alterations.
Crayon yellow and the blue of dawn
soak into shoulders wide
with hints of ivy
slinking in as a predator.
Pass through a storm-violent purple
to a quieter grey beyond.
Smoking breath will trap soil brown,
rising to the shaded orange inching high.
Virtual imperfection attacking the light,
coal wire frame to separate the mist.
Triangular formulas encompass
the spectrum of the rainbow,
wrapped in an overpowering frame.
The cracks can spray white lightning
[recently unclouded sun vengeance]
to pierce your camera views,
leaving behind a capture stained.

    I know pain
    I've seen it in a million pairs of eyes
    someone stop this
    stop me
    you may see mine
    I give it to you daily
    open your eyes, when you see nothing, that's me
    walking beside you 
    breathing inside your mind
    sharing a rewind
    back to when it started
            the baby bleeds
            a disease within the shell
            new breed
            cut short by lies, by eyes
            not mine
            yours aren't as forgiving
            with a scar across your belly
                        across your soul
      [hold me
       I know not what I say]
            there's a place
            full of daydreams and reverie
            I've seen it
            you'll know it's name soon
            when you cross the threshold
       break me down
       prey on me
       pray for me
   [Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord my
    soul to keep, if I should die before I wake, I
    pray the lord my soul to take.]

    all that I am
    in one sigh
    take it
    learn the feel
    that's me
    riding your spine
    easing the thrust
    pulling your knives out
    antibiological man
    healer man
    preach for me lover
        I won't fix you
        but you will
        with a matchstick and some cyanide
    "Death, as Shakespeare used it, meant to have an orgasm."

    I thought you should know that
    Importance is based on view
     [I threw my knife in the garbage the other day
      watched the dried blood get wrapped in plastic
      as my mind became wrapped in ashes.]
        I don't need it
        I want to begin
        I want to live again
    take the pain from beneath your cries
    wipe the tears away with stardust
    show you this world 
    polluted and impure
    watch you ease life back into it
    I know you can
         your silence speaks volumes of the promises
         spinning in your mind
    in truth
           don't call me a soulmate
           don't call me a saint
    I'll take you deeper 
    heaven might not bring us home
    the envy of the gods [of a god] is monstrous
    it doesn't matter
    they can't take forever
    your smile is safe
    I'm full of surprises
    a new shock for a new day
    you've bred past my mind
    running through my veins as addicted blood
                                addicted in you
        dim the lights
        I'm coming home

ramification [looping]

Vibrant whispers attack my waking ears with
a demanding tone.  My name, repeated in several
octaves with a female signature.  Blurred eyes scan
the darkness for a source, finding no such peace
of mind.  Another dream, far more intense and easily
unfair is too fresh in my unquiet mind.

So I make the most of this undeserved waking
breath and stretch my weary form.  Sinking back into 
the comforter that lies and the pillow that hears 
too much, the goosebumps rise with the cold gust 
swarming.  I am shamed again with a message cast
only moments ago when all was in a warm place. 

A damning vision of times long past and
unhealthy regret from actions my mind was forced
into.  For the whens and would not be and the
loves left unproven, my soul will not rest and
raises it's cries when my body does.  So unfair,
and yet unchanged, even now.

Under-appreciated words and silent
recollections forgive unwanted goodbyes and the
time that collapses under their weight will go on
plugging the gaps as it always has.  Despised sleep
once again claims me from sheer exhaustion and I
am sure I will awaken with the repetitive destruction
of the changing voices and shaking dreams.


     Antibiographical man. I am 26 years of age, living comfortably in Pontiac, Illinois. Male by the definition of anatomy, but slinking past the stereotypes all the same. This is a collection of a life behind jaded eyes, poetry that every man, woman, and child can feel and relate to. Take a step into the shadows and follow the breeze at your back, stepping always toward the light. Blink with me.

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