Help! The Coxcomb’s Comatose!

Focus
your life is in shambles.
Focus
it’s already dismantled.
Focus
your trial awaits.
Focus
not time to delegate.
Focus
on something that breathes.
Focus
on someone that feeds.
Focus
the pressure’s getting to you.
Focus
the lessons’ somehow esque.
Focus
bring firelight to the forest.
Focus
don’t try to score us.
Focus
for your quaint life’s in danger.
Focus
and pay up your wager.
Focus
on nothing at all.
Focus
even though you feel small.
Focus
just know that it’s here.
Focus
you’re twisted in fear.
Focus
your pain is not real.
Focus
those thoughts that you feel.
Focus
are not at all plausible.
Focus
the damage is causable.
Focus
if only you are able.
Focus
to become a bit more stable.
Focus
just focus
at the camera on cue.
Focus
just focus
your petty sum’s due.

Cybernetic Symphony

It started with existence

just a lowly perspective of a mute
time when I was able to
make sense of this pressure
make sense of why
you are now here to guide me now
on this looser journey; a lonely crabapple
still grappling at shriveled skin creating a face
that I still
cannot
distinguish.
With the end of presence as we know it
you have finished, rightly
in my dressing room
bright screen lit up
but only for a moment do I dare look away.

It started with you, and it will end with you

Closed off from me, shortly
your bioluminescence radiant,
your perfection incomplete.
I’ve known you for six straight years
or was it five
just enough
construed construction, a bloated
piece of mind that left me free to wander
aimlessly down I path I cannot recognize.
It was you who caused my blunder,
keeping me awake every night
with your brightness and distraction and amiable personality.
I decorated you with bits of me,
tangled in and out like woven webs of cybernetics
optimal connections, you died twice and I revived you.
But that was in the past
and you still cling on, for how much longer
I shan’t not know.
Only that what it means to exist
when I should be letting go.
I have to face the trust of reality and its weakened points;
that dangerous, well-formed world I find myself in.
I hope you can follow me
as long as you are able,
my clunky plastic compadre
your heart is metal mixed with other
kinds of fragile contraptions.
I know this end to my happiness is not your fault.
You were there when I needed you most,
even if you are a tool of innocence turned foul.
I once learned all of existence from your knowledge,
gleaned myself raw
trying to let you help me
understand myself.
We are not truly over because I am bound to you
somehow
even though I’ve used you for my own gain
abused your trust and have my own heart slain.

All I ask is for you to give me a chance
to make it right

again.

And then I can move on to better things.

And not be obsessed of what you think of me.

And find a way to pull myself together.

The Crystal Fairy

in the desert, she waits
for what? no one knows

she has sand in her long brown hair
which sparkles on the setting sun’s rays
she wears a necklace of large white shells
and long flowing green robes
over her naked body
opening to show
two pale hairless legs

in the desert she paints
scenes from her brain

full of color and glitter
pouring a bit from the edges

of every person she has ever encountered
with pointed ears and gossamer wings

she wears a crown of sea weed
and crabs sleep at her feet
she listens, alone, as the ocean speaks
its vibrant blue waves a lullaby so sweet

her eyes are two clear crystals
reflecting the light
as sea gulls caw and mosquitoes buzz
she buries her toes in cold sand
and leans against the craggy worn rock
painting, silently, crying salt water tears

as her thin paper wings
lie in a tattered heap
ripped at the shoreline
getting sucked in by the ocean’s strong pull
disappearing into the froth of waves
while the sun’s bald head slips
into streamline

Alone

How can you be alone
when you are surrounded by loved ones
who keep pushing you
to make good decisions?
Is to be alone
a curse or something even more
sinister?
Like the villain
you were caught believing you
were the hero this whole time.

What a waste!

Gone are the days of innocence
when adulthood rears its sneaky head
manipulating everyone’s bodies
to grow older as you watch.
Loneliness is a state of being unwanted
whereas aloneness is oneness
unless it becomes insanity
unless it becomes a burden
and the hedonist demons start to play
unravel their spiked red tails
and whip your sore shins
into a sorry state of
absurd oblivion.
Unsanctioned, that’s what being alone
really means
even when surrounded by great people
it becomes a selfish need.
If it were possible
you would leave this villainous life style
and become wind or sea or sky
in order to dissipate your cells
and let caution breed kissing
your petty sorrows goodbye.

When being alone is nothing more
than a personal choice gone sour
It is conflicting as the need to stay alive
knowing you are the bad guy in the story
never to be the victor only the victim.
The one that loses at your own
cankerous game of depression.

Ha!

What does it mean to be alone at this age?
It means an infinite of possibilities
to the point that is becomes dangerous
and all the skills you’ve ever known
are useless here
in the wilderness of nightmares.
They all have beady red eyes.
They all have thick red horns.
They all want your full attention.
They all want your heart shorn.
They all want your blood and veins and skin and brains.

But be warned!

For they find you just when you’ve realized
you’re the only villain in your life
and the only hero too.
There’s ways to get out
it’s true
it’s true

but you are seduced by your
notorious negativities
that urge you to stop
before you’ve even began.
So what’s a little girl like you
supposed to do
in a feral life unplanned?

Defeated By Life

Defecated, or did I say defeated
fated to live this life
barren as loose shoe strings
fraying a little at the ends.
Like a torn T-shirt
I am covered in holes and stains
splotches that just don’t
seem to go away.
Defeated in the mere inches I take
or the hearts that I break

but the only heart I break is my own.
How to pick up the pieces
when I am
piece-less
peaceless, no peace here.
So all I do is clench and worry
and hope that one day defeat
might become a feat
that can actually go somewhere
move someplace out of reach
as I seem to speak
of dreams unaccomplished and maimed
of dreams inferred striking infrared filters
that whisper mere fragments
of my name.

Dubious & Wilted

Losing control of the brighter things
that sit and smirk at me as
the twilight immerses itself
in the faint glimmers of reality.
Hold that fractured frigid shock
to myself so tight
it breaks and shatters
vomiting sterilized pom poms
laced with chocolate sticky kisses.
Struck me, Lick me, Luck my
humble circumstances as they dance
on the roof of my mouth
chilly strange deadly
turns to muck in the shmuck
at the corner of my brain.
In one moment I’m there
the next, I’m insane.
Minutes switch by slowly as the
natural drugs kick in
enlightening my sense of well-ebbing stretches
into a glass of string.

Sienna 2.0

Sienna: [. . . ]

Sienna: Does it really matter that Homestuck is over.

Sienna: My whole college experience wrapped up in MS Paint Adventures for five whole years I have devoted myself to this webcomic. I have secretly
lived and breathed it.

Sienna: And it has been fruitful.

Sienna: :D

Sienna: I have graduated college almost a year ago.

Sienna: I have done nothing with my life but fall in love once and get rejected once [again].

Sienna: I have gained friends and lost friends.

Sienna: It has been joyful and tough, sweet and rough.

Sienna: My bond between me and my cousin has grown greater. It has maximized in strength.

Sienna: My bond between my parents now is shaky at best.

Sienna: My bond between my brother is lacking as he grows older and we grow apart.

Sienna: I love my parents and my brother, but they do not understand me now. I still love them dearly, though.

Sienna: Isn’t that that journey of life?

Sienna: To have strife?


Sienna: All I do is worry now about my so-called future.

Sienna: It is all a blur, with Homestuck and The Dresden Files finally being done. With Mills College finally being done.

Sienna: I am finished and ready for a whole new chapter.

Sienna: Even if that means moving back to San Diego with my family. Even if that means starting from scratch once again. Even if that means letting go of everything in the past in order to move on and grow as a person into a whole new dimension.

Velociraptor

It waits
for the exact moment
to lunge at its prey
hidden in the ferns and fauna
fangs like butcher knives
lodged deep in its throat
a gurgling sound is heard
through the dark shot of brush
whistling the trembling leaves.
And there’s not one or two,
but three of them, crouched low
so near to me that I can hear
their heavy reptilian nostrils
breathing in and out
they are my nightmares
ready to devour
but I am not scared
because they are only vicious creatures
in a dream
and I am a dinosaur wrangler
and I know what I’m doing.

Sit and Recline

Going to sleep
is the best thing
a person can do.
After a long day of work
just slip under the covers
clean, wrinkled, soft and daring
the night a comfortable pillow
in which to rest sleepy tired eyes
while finishing a dystopian sci-fi movie
taking place in the desert.
Furiosa takes the night
across her shoulders
black engine grease smeared
across her forehead as Mad Max
rides shotgun
before the heat consumes them.
Enjoying every sand crusted
machine cranked thrusted
water tank bomb shell.
She is the best kind of heroine
taking complete control
of the current situation.
But sometimes there’s a break
when the dusk becomes depth
merging into the white halo of moon
slivered like a cut thumbnail
just hanging there, lifeless.
And this is when
the truth becomes
completely apparent.
Resting one’s body
after a tough week
of physical and emotional sickness
becomes first priority
where relaxation nods its weary head
to slumber under a pile of blankets.

Rise and Shine

Waking up
Is the best thing
a person can do.
Milk and cereal;
Empty-headed thoughts.
crunching,
With swallows.
Humanity
At the beginning.
Scribbles made
By one fine woman
Who knows who she is.
Waking up
Is the best thing
a person can do.

Spring Bright

Sunny day
Sunny sway
See the green weeds thrush
hear the warblers and Chestnut
Striped Chickadees chirp.
Feel the equipped hush
of bright Spring’s push
to uncover anew, if only to know
like knew the new leaves, green
as they speak in sunlight
as it drifts, in peak, in song
so swift. Smell the hot sun
gallop, resting on blue sky
as wise as truthful lies.
Grasp shadows streaming off
gleaming off, preening off
Black-eyed Junco’s
call that echo in the in the
outside field, so yield
and breathe such nature
as it believes to crouch in,
crouch out, near road,
near sound. White budded
Baby’s Breath tickles the
green field, green earth. So
covered and fresh. Flowers
so sweet they choose to
peek out of the grass
and weeded leaf.
Sunny day
Sunny sway
Pine trees chuckle
in the blowy, breezy heat.
Never in their own defeat
but capturing carbon dioxide
(unlike wheat) letting pure
oxygen seep through thudded
bark, so brown it shells
their delicate rings. The clouds
dissipate to cornflower blue
so intoxicating it fills the
street, next door, with
glistening light or heavenly dew.

The Lobster and Paring Knife

as the lyrical string music plays
I can feel your arousal in me as it sways
burning so bright and hot like the sun
scorching each pathway
through the cold trees’ crisp dun
as your mouth opens
and I reach mine inside it
so soft and so warm
I attach my soul to it
and dive deep in the swarm
as the music lulls louder
giving no push
your hands brush my waistline
your ribs brush my bust
your nose bumps my faceline
and I blush
and I blush
rivulets of passion
muted and such
melody’s sharp sliver
of a sheer wanton clutch
after all that we’ve been through

I never oh never
thought I’d love you so much

Camaraderie

when i think of you
i get all warm and tingly
it’s a sensation
i don’t want to part with
quite yet
and i see versions of you everywhere i go
in clouds
in comics
in places unexpected
and i wonder where that text will bring me
and i wonder if we’ll become closer as friends
and i wonder why i see your face sculpted
by mountain ranges in the distance while driving
the sun setting in its palate of periwinkle
trickling into darkness
your handsome body somehow capturing my interest
and i wonder if i can become a wild explorer
trampling through wind and soot and rain and snow
to finally discover the comrade I was looking for.

Stuck In the Gutter

Take my heart out of the gutter and shake it ‘till it bleeds.
That lonely mother-fucker can’t breathe
unless the sinews stitch back together
like the veins of leaves,
all smooshed by heels and debris.
My heart can’t see.
Laying in that gutter; it can only believe.