Dead Children

Some things never change
but the way you are inside
does.
I’m not sure how it happens.
Gradually, maybe.
Like a song for sore ears
or chapped lips made for speaking softly.
Change
is like stripping away raw skin
as it tears off the bone
I’m not sure what to make of it
when drowning is the only way I know how to swim
when dragging is the only way I know how to walk.
Buddy, take a load off here on this burning planet
Buddy, take a swig of this here fantasy juice
as I squeeze your eyeballs until they bleed reality.
Change
is not unlike loose change left on sticky sidewalks
the underbelly of greased metal and twigs.
This change starts in the belly
stings like jellyfish talons
and quills it’s lullabies in black ink
thick and tearful, I swim and sink
with sore lips and chapped ears
I fail to listen;
I fail to hear.
My intercurrents waver
like water, they quiver
intermingling thoughts that spit in silver
murmuring sliver in the night.
With wings so ratty
tarnished and grey
was there ever a moment in the morning
where I woke
and wished it was bedtime?
Some things never change
But the way you look
does.
Are we the same people we were as children?
Or did the child die the moment we grew up?

Creation of Information

Creating form out of a formless void
Creating a masters degree out of thin air
Creating a new relationship after the old one was lost
Creating a stomachache out of too much dinner
Creating a storm when there’s only clouds
Creating a world where democracy is dead
Creating a life with infinite possibilities
Creating a platform in which to discover
Creating a void inside a black hole
Creating a whole void inside a black sphere
Creating a black sphere within a black hole
Creating a whole sphere inside a black void
Creating nothing from something
Creating something from nothing
Creating friends from a website
Creating dates from an app
Creating voices inside head spaces
Creating fantasies on top of bed sheets
Creating words that make up a poem
Creating a poem made up from words
Creating a poem caked with make-up
Creating make-up that’s caked with a poem
Creating an atmosphere with no air
Creating a vacuum with a vacuum
Creating a laugh with laughter
Creating silence with silence
Creating rapture with laughter
Creating silence with rapture
Creating laughter with silence
Creating a laugh within the silence
Creating no thing out of nothing
Creating nothing out of some things
Creating some things out of something
Creating nothing out of something
Creating form out of a formless void
The creation of information

This Is My Life Right Now

This is my favorite type font

Time New Roman size 12

I know, it’s boring and I’m anything but boring but

I think you’d like me

if you got to know me.

I’d like to fall in love again, if that’s possible.

Not with any shmuck I meet or with some old childhood friend

but with someone completely new

completely sane

completely financially independent

and completely head over heels in love with me

and all that I am.