I’m too Liberal for Liberals

Here I am

People forget all the time that they’re the one that’s alive, it is the book/DVD/computer/TV that sits on the shelf dead until you pick it up again.

They mistake the metaphor for reality. I’m surprised I’m the one not making that mistake.

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if you could see me now

when even the winter mornings are bright,

with the spells in heat,

touching my name to paper,

the smile i can set off worth a million watts

if i had know how much change

can pack itself

into only half a life,

if my imagination had any idea

who i would grow into

if seventeen years you and me,

if i could lead you out to that dance floor

one more time,

laughing,

to the motel key,

and to the love

conscience locked in my glove compartment,

beside a Fall Out Boy CD,

my heart and head all tangled close

between you fingers, with

my lyrics and tattoos drawn inside,

with no where safe to hide,

what a love i would give you now,

if i had only known

when we were intertwined and asking

“How close is close enough?”

when we knew the answer

and i was too hungover with life

or scared to say it,

close is never close enough

or when you promised

“You’d never get too far”

now i just wish i could

“break you down so badly”

with the phrase drawn behind your tongue

over you teeth

“in the worst way”

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Dead Headache

i go to bed

with my skull disassembled on my dresser,

where the nightmares crawl in the window

and make a home in the bowl back,

slide in through the cracks,

so that when i wake up

and strap in

i am a walking frightmare

the candy skeletons dance

on my phone screen

and beg me to take chill pills

under the notebooks and

loose leaves in my drawer

i have nothing but time,

there is no reason to bite nails,

or grind teeth,

no clocks counting down,

no here or now,

no put up or shut up,

no go big or go home,

i just wake up,

pump lightweights

at high repetition,

take a shower

and sleep until dinner,

i am the last neutron star standing,

the red giants have burnt out,

or crushed themselves into cold

and thrown themselves out of my orbit

the way crickets throw themselves into traffic,

impaled on radio antenna

as you drive by,

i strap my skull on,

the dreams float over my brain

like living in a radon blue fishbowl,

i wear black,

and i scare myself away from funerals,

i’m scared they’ll open the coffin,

and try to stuff me inside,

here i am pouring smoke out my ears,

waiting for the candy night,

when a girl with a pretty sugar skull

and blue blossom bud eyes

extends a boney hand to mine

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Swipe Right

i’m just a little more dead inside

than i was yesterday

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Valentine

and i do,

i love you, you, you!

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Sip Swallow

i’ve been drinking for 6 hours now,

and my mind is only getting younger,

if you have any spines to stick

any more pain to inflict,

“Keep it coming”

I’m sorry I am far away,

and that I never am the shadow i

suppose i am,

crawling in the moon light

into your bed

“Who are you supposed to be?”

I am supposed to be your dream,

but i drink irish whiskey,

it weighs me down,

until i hit the pillow,

but can’t fly away,

“Who are you supposed to be?”

I am supposed to be your love,

though you were young when we met,

but only by a handful of years,

“Who are you supposed to be?”

I’m supposed to be a Hot Shot Yankees fan by geography,

and i am,

but i don’t live there, and my wallet is not

just there yet,

i have words i live by and a voice

that i enslave myself to,

my grandfather called me “a man of my word”

and i was happy and proud,

i could only say

“it was how you raised me”

when i knew he didn’t expect me to anyway

“Keep it coming.”

If you have hate for me,

and my love and the lights i foster within my rib cage,

the gods i offer to on my shoulders,

and in the slender prayers of my tongues,

my oldest golden love,

“Keep it coming”

because i love you,

my heart knows no boundaries,

and if you were brave enough,

there is room for you too

and there are friends,

and lovers that buy

silver shackles

and re-gift their sorrows,

we are not their kind,

or kin,

though blood may bind,

and sex may tie,

we are our own,

and on a day where many admit to being fools,

we are a comedy all our own.

You are whoever you should be,

and you don’t have to be anything.

And i love you for who you are anyway.

Happy Valentines.

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It’s Valentine’s Day

Happy New Year!

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