Cry Over Milk Puddles

So you saw him square in there

the old questions/ the different passion

the color of the curtain, the sizzling size of the pain

the wall is so hard, hostile pointlessness.

The tired boy, that little boy, the less than

perfect shadow

perfect insides

rebellious echoing shouts like shots inside the box of certain decades. Ricochet.

I’m too tired to confess I want behind the curtain. There is no ok,

no ok way to get the back story and

become the intimate place where I will be the way, hooker heart of gold, the confidant in a cowboy movie, a brothel with silk on a lamp.

Mortality snack in a blanket ergo

just how much of this is him or me? I ruin nothing

seek a pretend world to bring you in to answer my questions

and…

Password

Indulging

is a knifed net

seizing my chest

to take out my heart

before the end of my mind…

And Wanin’

Don’t you

Want a book out

there about you these days

I don’t have much else to offer

waxin’

Rogue Data Point

How to write about it, after all these years.

What’s hurting most is I’m passed the promising time

When I get your answers like copper pennies, if only to become wishes.

Where it’s only you and I. Just for a little while.

Why? Because there are so many people to fall in love with.

He Is More Gray

stupid memories
stupid dreams

the possibility path who
made me young

a prize
time is gone and

I still think I let you down
and

I still think I don’t
write like you thought I could

I think I failed you
and every Daddy after…

The Unfortunate Truth

I just want to tell you
The things I think
When I look in your eyes
I love you
Its that simple