Waiting for summer to turn into fall.

Hoping for this archetype that I place above them all.

Waiting by my memory hoping it will call.

I know that I screwed up and I'm waiting for the fall

but know you know I love you, insecurities and all.

Patterns in speech draw pictures of your voice.

Fractured and unclean I staple them to choice.

Scratching away surgeries I sit and rejoice

Carbon Copy

The poetry is gone, it's too much like the rest.

writing carbon copies of loves and past deaths.

looking for a break through, knowing theres nothing left.

Theres nothing in this ink

save the monthly issues I think

the subscription to apathy

the premium I link,

to my life and my mind

knowing nothing ties in with time.

seeing the world pass by me

while slowing down in the middle lane, weaving lines.

when something new comes along it will connect itself to the past

the past is the only reasons these poems end to fast.

Through November.

Into December.

Freezing and faulting pain to remember.

no time to rhyme.

return to sender.

*Not Titled Yet*

Chalking up the cold air to

scrape it across my face,

I see the frost on my eyelids

I see the hurt that i can taste.

I feel the memory rip me back

I feel fractured pieces within

I hear the voices of the future

I hear the cries of the past come in.

Infiltrate this design

create the fine line

for me to cross

and you to see

all that is lost and

all that cant be.

remember the day when you say you want to leave

hold it in your mind,

watch it make you bleed.

Tomorrow.

Zero Rhythm Connection

There is no up and down to connect you to this verse.

so i sit and lay here and beg myself not to curse.

your slipping away in the cracks i made and now i see a herse

but from inside i see you watching me drive away with a smile in your purse.

Yes i have dreams and yes i have schemes

i have plans to break this down.

i have examples and samples and a license to break sound.

i have excuses and fuses to keep this spark found

i have everything i need to remember where i was

and everything i dont is just a reason to rise above.

No Brand New

I couldn't handle movies of my dreams.

If I had them I'd never leave the screen.

I'd stare into fiction as it shows me my addiction.

And then I'd fall asleep.

Unkind Intent

Frozen home and a lost heart.

Taking now the only place to start.

Finding shelter in pouring rain.

And finding warmth in an empty shopping cart

I don't know ideas that crawl in your head.

I only know what needs to be said.

Not that what I know makes a difference.

The difference is I'd rather see this feeling dead.

It creeps in the air through my ears and eyes.

Feeling around and finding fake lies.

That everyone believes and restates.

That everyone sees and tries.

There is no subject except the one in your mind.

There is no lantern to help you find.

The heat in the night, the cold in the light.

This idea is purposefully unkind.