Time spent over a friends house

A small family
In a small house
Who argue with one another
All day long
In the language of love

The world comes to an end everyday in this house
But I don't care
As long I can escape reality
While I'm here

The phone rings
The door knocks
The voice slaps and stings
Even though their not abundant
They can't find me here

Besides

There's a certain reverence
For chaos
That insults the mind's goal
for perfection...I'm home.

The story of a hero, woulda, coulda, shoulda, and something...

Anxiety

screaming

permeating from my mind

fear

In the after math of seeing her there

He beat her

You should've seen it!

No

You shouldn't have seen it

Because I felt like I had to do something

And I didn't do anything

Not because of what I should have been feeling

That heroism infection?

Duty?

But out of fear of rejection

I felt like committing verbal suicide

But then it went away and I just watched him take away her pride

And now I wanted to take away her painI

wanted to do something

Anything

Anyone else would have done something right?

Someone should have done something, right?

Anything

From a fight to a slight pat

The tv ad told me to stop him from doing that

I even watched her beaten to an inch of her life

In this movie I saw a week ago

And now

He was beating her in the front of a pickup truck

After they'd prepared to go

I had to do something

I was going to do something

But I didn't do anything

Accept turn my head

Ofcourse there were reasons

Other than the obvious

"normally these things don't turn out right

She makes accusations

He accuses

She accuses..."

Neither accusations are made on each other

Because sometimes

Her love is young...or old

And both have outgrown heroes

And can only see toads

And you'd rather be a hero than a villain

Right?

Then again

Just like love

Real-life heroes are contrary to their popular twins

And don't think of all the shit I just said to begin

Either they don't think

Or ignore it

And in the end

Watching a woman being beaten taught me something

Real-life villains just want to be heroes

And heroes in real-life are idiots

A-thugadie

A thugadie
and speak his mind
before the action
of his verbs

Wears the bling
atop his heart
to cover up
it's lack of curve

Lips move
but grill confines
Words in lust
And mouth to fame

Puts his mind in chrome on rims
which shine a spark
in eye of fame

A thugadie
and keep his mind
pressed on waist
to unfurl glock

Though heart
can see
himself a bird
The eyes are dressed
in morning walks

The End of the World

I never knew I would grow up to become one of those people

Who act outside the common conception?

And therefore stared at like a bad taste in the mouth

That I would contemplate stuff like the sun rising at night

Or hate stereotypes to the point of becoming one

I was free

And wordless

I still am free

Sometimes worldless

Other times

While I'm typing on my laptop even

I feel this.. this world form over me

As if hoping to evolve while my back is turned

It starts when I turn my head to the site of them approaching

They don't necessarily have to spark diolague with me

Just sit around

Converse with one another

And that's when I'm reminded of the role I decided on indecisively

But this is only fact in the mysterious world thats taken form

When I find myself in it:

Fact is fiction

Up is down

My music is different

I look different

I even talk different

I look at myself in conversation and say

"That's not how I talk!"

I methodically question my ethical belief systems

and role as a human being in society

What I consider right

Who I consider attractive

The way I'm moved and what is love

My conscious is cleaved away from bone and flesh

As if painted on

The sky falls

Fire reigns from the heavens

The earth trembles

Planets collide

The cosmos tear

And then they walk away

The world vanishes

And I continue typing on my laptop...

Last night was spent
with 2 Jews, 2 Christians, an aetheist,
and one question mark.

you can imagine how that conversation went.

This morning
I woke with an ember in my chest
and spent the rest of the day]
trying to pull it out

after-sex poetry...

conversation on everything but...

conversation is a sheet we throw over ourselves

to cover the hand gestures and whole body movements 

converstion is a dragoon to gaurd the reconnaissance missions from secrete hand gestures and whole body movements

conversation on everything but...

..said, my inspiration.

i have a friend whose mostly made of 

paint.

she was made when art was struck by lightning at

 ten.

because she's also electricity

her being can paralyze 

but it's cool in jolts

when the batteries are low

she can be your best friend

She once saved my life when i almost died

Her whisper shocked my heart alive

So i could go 

and exercise

Though 

i think 

i'll sleep 

til i see her again

sometimes we smoke 

and talk about our saviors

of times 

back when

and maybe later

one time

i watched art 

burn into her hand

when asked

she said it was in her nature

 

unnoticed

is her powerful voice

she'll speak

And often 

rearrange a choice 

or her mother's limbs 

with some minor anatomy

but it's breathe taking to note such force 

And watchout! 

when she gets excited

so much wattage 

uninvited

since i'm water

i don't burn much

so when she speaks

i try and catch parts

before they burn walls

never slighted