I lay the pen down. Convinced that I can’t think.
Realizing it’s the only thing I can do.
I’ve taken you nowhere.
So why do you continue to stay?

I had a conversation today with a girl I feel like I’ve known forever.
I felt like we lived worlds apart only to find 2 hours was barely a distance.
And at the moment where we spoke of time. I felt like life was everything.
And I could taste every word soaking into my skin like a sponge.
Dying_Angel.
Dying_Angel.

She never fails my next breath, as I’m waiting upon her next sentence.

I’m holding still today. Still wandering on a figment of yesterday and assuming the continual possibility of tomorrow.
The possibility that we could all be stuck in this ticking clock.
Hanging on a cloud. Drifting on nothing. Falling apart into the sand.




And my mind is on overtime. Working as if I pay it to do this to me.
To rip me apart on the inside. Take my clarity; transform it into potted opaque dreams.


And I only wish to whisper some sort of wisdom.
To tell you that in the threads of grass, along the husks of corn, inside the silver linings of clouds…




There are only details.





Cut out to perfection. Arranged specifically into a shape.




We all breathe out injuries of our perfectly protected shapes.
We all heal different, stitched up into something new.



But who’s to say that we ever fell apart in the first place?



I’m hanging on words that were never spoken as I pluck the alphabet from the sky.
I steal jumbled everything’s from your list of nothings.
And I embrace time as it slips away beneath my feet.



I only wish you’d understand.




& maybe this is falling apart when the future becomes your present, and your past becomes you future.
And I’m wishing it wouldn’t end like this.
Like the beginning was my end all along.




I never accomplished anything. This conversation wasn’t meant to be.
And what makes this so important now when I’m repeating everything you never could say…
Pluck the words dangling off my skin.




I wish you read me better.



I could tell you I’m much simpler than this.



Sipped on an Iced Cappuccino and had another conversation with myself at the river.
It bounced off the wall again, floating back into the green water.
I wonder if I would have caught my words before they drown, if I’d still have my hair in a mess, the tears on my face, and the ink dripping off my skin.
I tried to remember it. Tried to write it all down.
But it’s forgotten before I can even remember what my over analyzer of a mind brought to my attention before I’m onto the next subject.






And I’m confused. Convinced I’ll hit pavement before my next fragment.





Wishing it was easier now to write you something that you’d understand.
Thinking it would be nice if my heart wasn’t such a distant coward.
I’d paint you something beautiful.
I’d make you forget the words I thought I understood myself.




I could tell you.
I could tell you, I’m much simpler than this.




And I’ve lied my pen down.
Did this all mean nothing to you?
Or has this extra trip to green waters let you see that this is my reality.
That I’m stuck at a river between railroad tracks and concrete walls.



That a conversation means everything,
And words are my last breathe.




And I’d die in the details before ever stepping foot in your heart.




And I’ve floated upon silver linings never reaching the clouds.
Examined the cornhusk, before enjoying the bloom.
Watched the grass grow long, before cutting it to its roots.




And I’m stuck on the stickiness of every letter as it drips like honey off your lips.
Wishing you’d stuff it all back in so I wouldn’t over analyze every taste.




& I’ve taken you nowhere.



Are you so intrigued to stay because you’re so lost in my details?
I’m busy melting into a sidewalk.
Study me close.













I swear I’m much simpler than this.

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