on words;

let it all wash over you; fall inside your
self
fall inside and surface
to find
all that has come from your

simplicity.

from under your eyelashes

cause sometimes when

I think –

always coming back to

close up

a glimpse

like

this.

Do You Remember Passion?

“Do You Remember Passion?”

by alex rivas

Pushing open the door of the café on Gray Street, I really don’t know why I’ve come here; well I mean, I do know why but it’s easier to contemplate the rafters. They’re familiar, you know, but not too much - I can throw my head back in that corner chair in the far end of the room and get lost in the veins, the bumps and bruises of the wood.

I ordered another King Crimson tea this time, but honestly I don’t know if I can finish it – not because it tastes funny or anything, it’s just harder to drink it all without someone else borrowing the cup once in a while. So I’ll just leave it there I guess.

Took a look around, it makes me kinda sad – seems they’ve closed off our – I mean, the patio. I think it’s probably because the bench back there finally gave out, I guess Formica really isn’t as unbreakable as some people think – really you shouldn’t take that sort of thing for granted. And past that patio, I don’t even need to look outside to see, to remember everything that’s there – things that don’t change, or go away, that are truly concrete. There everything remains, stays still while the world panics through it.

On the wall there, “Do You Remember Passion?” – the favourite graffiti of the kids who haunt those backalleys, some other person begs the question.

do you remember,

do you remember?

I remember, that stain living right on the bricks, I took one of your senior pictures there, the words that just jump out to say – well, I don’t know what right they have to ask, anyway.

It’s not something that needs prompting, the thoughts that were already in my head. I could count the cracks in the sidewalk from where I am to that wall from memory, feeling two sets of footsteps in my mind but I can only see my own two feet, placing themselves one after the other; stumbling and remembering how you always said I was clumsy but honestly it was just hard to walk with someone’s hand around your waist pulling you this way and that. It’s not any easier, though,

walking alone.

27 cracks – that’s how many there are between the parking lot and here, our no my favourite little streetway – I guess it’s a short walk, and I get so distracted anyway.

I check to see nobody’s looking, as usual – for different reasons I guess but I mean I’m glad all the same that no one’s around. I trace the broken lines on the wall there lightly - as lightly as I might trace the lines on someone’s face.

It’s funny, I can see everything, right there – the memories, the photographs I took superimposed just the same on the chipping whitewash. Also funny, because the wall behind that whitewash wasn’t even white to begin with – it’s – too easy to see so much.

Also funny; you know, people stare just as much at one person wandering around alone as two?

But it’s still so very

different. Oh, and there –

somebody took your place in the parking lot.

para la noche

it's almost like

the night has a taste all its

own;

like a smooth warm wine

or

melted chocolate

it moves around the corners of your mind-

seeps into the seems, behind the

screens you put up to keep in reason, the

light

of

day

like black gold; the night

turns the colors rich, dark, so vital

vibrant

alive and

content. like a lover who

you know - you know you'll meet them

in the morning, you know they reside -

and see them once every day is done.

the night -

to rest at your side.

and still

I tremble

because they say

it's inevitable

projections (I couldn't resist.)

first time I heard your voice

"no surprises"

there I was, quilted blanket covering -

what

is

happening

I was surprised.

I had no idea -

And you know - every time

I'll only fall

deeper.

maybe it's the music;

maybe it's just

the simple resonance of

sound.

funny how words

can contain worlds within

their little black confines -

61 words

a lifetime

a memory,

vivid as summertime -

between two lines

just like this

a feeling.

only

didn't know

that I felt this okay -

that anyone

could make all those past - to borrow words,

"losses long left behind" -

go away

and I didn't know

that it wouldn't feel wrong -

to look in such a way

at such a person

with such a feeling

again.

"Naturally"

in the purest sense of the word.

and I'll say "wary"

because

it's one of those things -

not to know.

You know -

in the past, the ways

the days

the frayed messages I've been wired -

in the past,

the times I've been the most

so

so very open,

then

slam

sudden shut - down - left - down

on my own.

I mean, there's a reason I won't eat famous amos cookies anymore;

but that's another story.

in all my sincerity

there

standing, balancing -

a moment, a movement, testifying to the effects the

wind has on figures

who stand on Formica, regardless of the fact

it's entirely possible to be seen -

And there

I couldn't even look - couldn't even

take my mind

off

"What's on your mind?"

I meant, truly -

who

are

you?

inside, and will you

would you

take me as a thought to care?

I want your

hands hair thoughts smiles mouth kiss words sigh shock and too - I want to be -

trust me. trust me when I want to be

anything, for you

Saying that I would

be there

if you'd like -

always if you'd like,

because a smile and my wary give-my-all are such easy

things to give you

if you'd like

"What's on your mind?"

a dare

dare you to speak the thoughts

you're thinking -

precipice!

sketch

how adventurous are you feeling

Are you feeling brave?

To face the storms;

the dark

the light

the way you can't see but your feet are going to trip

anyway

To face

the dark alleys that extend

almost as long as a personal history -

Are you feeling brave?

Feel like, taking a chance?

Don't look down -

Just keep your eyes on

me. If you're feeling

adventurous -

Are you ready, willing

to

jump

kinetics

Rocking chairs are funny -

push pull them

and in the end,

actually we move each other.

Pervasive, in my thoughts -

you sit somewhere in my skull,

move

me

I move

So much that perhaps,

this motion

this movement

is lost

kind of like getting lost in the dark

like - how -

we-

move the-

night-

together-

impressions

impressions

are like marks we

left

on your skin.

people you meet at school functions

a chance meeting

corner eye meet me

hello

handshake man.

Soft -

ink stain?

Top button undone

brown eyes?

memory turns blue.

makes me a little blue

does he

do

you

I?

agree entirely

yes,

so.

Features take over

what I know now to be your face -

"Third freckle to the left -"

turn right you'll see

you can't miss it

too much

beauty within that

skin.

can't miss that

skin

covers words

gone

to

from

"Sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

to a simple

"good morning,"

breathed easy

at seven a.m.

Now if only

I could feel that breath

as it whispers what it writes

to the

alone a.m. me

connotations

Suggestive?

touch feel move

breath dark

strange,

unplan present past

future

the here-and - now

gasp

oxygen

cloy

hands

mouth

sensation

temptation

relation -

say speak

your mind

constant

fleeting

open your eyes

withdraw.

- too ended -

too -

soon.

For my father

Player piano -

the music sits somewhere

in between his fingers

and his

jazz, silent sounds.

I can't understand -

the words mean

time thought small slow smooth

move

that

beat

and flow.

flow -

something has come about

between his subconscious and his

soul;

Like how a singer can speak,

and then weave you

some lonely, lovely stranger's voice -

I know you,

but where did that come from?

Not even a breath.

He breathes within the music;

or perhaps,

the music breathes

in him.

Either way -

all left,

leaving a

sigh,

and a

gasp.

the air between your teeth

because he has words

and I just like to sit and listen -

Scared of such gravity,

Depth of the air, and he

will only speak words that

illuminate

What I swear

I was trying to see.

My only fragility being

in the envy

I feel for the air -

When I'm only somewhere,

and he's still

there.

on time and your face

it's funny, how much

someone's face changes

up close -

I mean, when it's just

right next to yours-

rightupclosetoyours.

And there's not that screen of air,

Dividing

the way I see your eyes,

or your mouth,

or the

little freckles on your

skin.

Diana color flash - no edits, which is why I love it so much!

their eyes were watching god

on way too many self portraits etc

As artists, we don't do self portraits all the time because we're just complete and utter narcissists; it's because we're often the only ones in the room when the right mood hits.

"Don't Leave Me in the Dark"

My best friend. I love her to death and always will.

My sister!

Diana mini again!

Photoshoot with Laura; took this in downtown Norman.

My gorgeous friend Megan, who consented to letting me photograph her! More of her to come. <3

Took this at Quartz Mountain, this past January.

Took this with my Diana Mini.

Kerouac Self Portrait N. 3; conceptual

"And that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't remember who I was.''

- Jack Kerouac

Kerouac Self Portrait N. 2

"And I realized no matter what you do, it's bound to be a waste of time in the end so you might as well go mad."

- Jack Kerouac

Sometimes it's hard to be conscientious

Lots of fun with mixed media! This was done in acrylic, black and blue ink pen, and calico fabric. The "canvas" was an old shoebox lid.
This was for the SWART show; Students Working Against Tobacco, who asked us kids to create a piece that had to do with smoking.

Self portrait - laughing

Kerouac Self Portrait N. 1

"You'd be surprised how little I knew even up to yesterday"
- Jack Kerouac

My 8th grade short story, "Iden"

The sun glared down on Iden as he assessed the situation. There were three ships on the dock of Anoa: First, a fantastic galleon, probably government owned, carrying huge amounts of cargo and sporting grand white sails, stately oars, and shiny new paint; second, an expensive looking vessel that probably had royals traveling on it – it probably had a lot of jewels, too. Third, a battered, small ship, with bedraggled sails and chipping paint- not the prettiest, but it looked pretty fast. That’s the one we want, thought Iden. Not too big or conspicuous, and fast enough to get away from the abhorrent guards and the honest citizens- perfect. He whistled to his friends, who slowly came over from the alley they had been hiding in.
Iden stood staring at a puddle of water on the ground, and he waited there until his friends started to come over. While looking at the puddle, he noticed that his dark brown hair was getting longer, almost chin length, and that his equally dark eyes looked tired and bloodshot. His pants were too short again; he was getting taller, apparently, although he was tall already. His battered clothes were getting thin, and his face was a little scarred. Wow, fifteen years of stealing and staying up late in the same city seem to have gotten to me, Iden thought. Maybe I need a haircut.
The boys in Iden's group were ragged, like him- they were battered and cut, with the same panther-like posture and long hair. They all ranged from thirteen to seventeen, and had all either ran away from home, had no parents, or had joined the family business - crime.
In Iden's opinion, though, they weren't criminals - they were survivors. They did what they had to, to survive. There were six total of them - which was one less member than they were used to.
"Hey," Iden said, once everybody got there, "I think I’ve found the boat we want. It's perfect." He gestured to the boat he had found. “And, it's fast. I saw it when it came in." Iden had been standing out there for a long time, baking in the sun, and watching for when the guy that owned the ship in question would go into the bar and get drunk, so he wouldn't notice or try to stop them when they stole his boat. Or, "borrow without permission", Iden thought, as I prefer to say. That was what they were planning to do, after all. They needed a boat, so….

Iden quickly saw that things were getting out of hand, and that definitely wouldn't work. They needed to be organized and ready to run, always. "Hey!" he shouted above the noise, instantly regretting it. He hated yelling, since he was mostly a quiet person. But he sure could be loud, if he needed to be. He rubbed his throat. Everyone turned and looked at him, and they all remembered that, after all, they were supposed to be stealing a ship here - a worthy one or not. They needed to be quiet. Nobody could know their plan.
"Okay, guys, here's what we’ll do." Iden paced in front of his friends, trying to regain their attention. "Obviously, we need to steal that ship."
you know how I told you that the city guards got a tip as to our whereabouts?" Everybody nodded - the bridge they met under was pretty hard to find, but it looked like somebody had given them away.
"Well, this morning Cal and I went down to the bridge, and…" Iden stopped there, hoping they would get the message. It didn't look like they did. Cal stepped forward from where he had been standing, and said loudly- "It was ruined. Trashed. Dead. We think that the guards used that tip and found out where it was."
Everybody looked at each other, with distraught faces and heavy hearts. None of them had a great family life, and their club house was the only place they could just let go and relax. When they weren’t performing a “mission,” that is. The boys all looked at Iden - maybe this wasn’t really happening, they hoped. Maybe Cal was lying about their home; maybe he was tricking them for his own purposes, as someone else who was once in their group had done.
But no, they thought, Cal wasn’t doing that. He was too straight laced. He never lied. But still, Iden was their leader, and he had earned the title. They wanted confirmation from him alone. They got it, in the form of a sad nod. “So, um… that’s why we need a ship. We have no choice but to get out of Anoa- because if we’re caught - and there’s a good chance we will be, since we don’t have a base anymore - then we’re dead. Literally.”
Iden hated saying that to his friends, because he knew it hurt to think about leaving Anoa. Every one of them loved their country, though they never said so.
Anoa was a good place to be, reflected Iden. It was somewhere between a big city, a suburb, and the country, with all those kinds of people, too. There were a lot of good places to steal from, and to hide - perfect for their group. The old stone houses of the city with their tall false fronts were packed together like sardines, with only a narrow alley in between them - the alleys were the highways of crime, and the road to the paradise of thieves. Anoa was a good place to be. A paradise of thieves, and Iden and his friends were the kings of thieves. The government and citizens of Anoa absolutely hated them.
Taking a deep breath to shake himself out of his own thoughts, Cal said loudly, “Well then, guys, lets go get that ship!” Cal clapped his hands together, grinning like an idiot. There was a collective groan. Cal was obnoxious about things like that, but everybody liked him anyway. He was absolutely everyone’s best friend, and was always very quick to forgive. “What’s our plan, then?” he sheepishly asked Iden, “I don’t think you ever finished telling us.”
“Right.” Iden said, once he gathered his thoughts. “The plan. Well, I was thinking that two of us- Colin and James, since you’re the biggest- could go talk to the guards.” He gestured to the two burly guys looking watch at the dock. “Go talk to them, and try and offer them a drink. Once they accept, and believe me they will, take them to the Crocodile Bar over there and get them a little drunk - but not much. As for you two, you guys better not drink anything. Once they’re a just a little more than tipsy, insult them. A lot.” Colin and James looked incredulous. Everybody knew you didn’t insult a big, drunk guy, unless you wanted to start a fight…
“Exactly,” Iden said, reading their faces. “Start a fight. Get them going at each other, and then slip out when it starts getting loud. Oh, and there will be a sailor in there, probably drunk by now, who’ll be wearing a red shirt. He’s the owner of our ship-to-be. Try and get him involved in the fight, too, so he won’t notice anything. Anything at all.” He looked meaningfully at his friends. Colin and James nodded, understanding. Go in, start a fight, and get out.
Iden shifted his attention to Andy and Cal. They look pretty innocent, he thought…. innocent enough, anyway. “Andy, Cal,” he said. “I need you to go over to the supply store. Steal us some supplies. Food, water, oil, etc. Buy a few, and steal the rest. You know what I mean. Once you’re done, go stand in front of the bar window, and wait for my signal. Once you see it, run to the ship and get on.” They nodded, they were ready. “Got it.” Andy said. Andy and Cal resumed talking quietly, filling in the details of their plan.
Lastly, Iden thought, Will. He’s small and fast … a perfect thief, really. “Will, I need you to do a sneak job. You need to go down to the ship - don’t attract any attention - and untie it from the dock. You’ll need to get on deck right after that - don’t attract any attention - and lower the gangway, right at my signal. Misdirect anyone who comes by or watches, and be on the lookout for the signal! And remember, do not attract any attention. We don’t need any more trouble than we might already have.” Will nodded curtly. I’m pretty good at sneaking, he thought, and good at acting innocent, too.
Acting, of course, was the key word.
“Okay, guys? Everybody ready?” Iden said. Each person nodded. “Great. So, on the count of three - one, two..” “Hold on!” James said suddenly. “You never told us, what’s going to be our signal?”
“Oh,” said Iden, “the signal. Right. Well, for lack of originality, I’ll go with the usual. Listen for my whistle, and then run to the ship.” James agreed, “That’ll work.”
“Okay, glad you think so.” Iden took a deep breath, and met the five eager pairs of eyes in front of him. They were counting on him and his plan. He prayed that it would work. “Alright. On the count of three, then. One, two… Three!” Everybody started walking determinedly in their specific directions. Here we go, Iden thought.
Meanwhile, Cal and Andy were off to the Seaside Supply Store, to do a little “shopping”. They had decided earlier what their plan would be - it was one the group had used many times. They entered the store, and then their plot went into play. Andy walked the aisles with a purpose, and got reasonable amounts of food, water, and all the other cheap stuff they’d need for their hopefully brief journey. Meanwhile, Cal went through the aisles with a recyclable shopping bag, the kind that you would buy and then take with you into the store instead of the store’s generic bag. He then roamed the aisles with the bag and put all the more expensive necessities for the trip in there, and waited. Andy then went up to the counter and paid the clerk, smilingly, and then headed for the door. While he was walking, he “accidentally” knocked down a huge display of cans and boxes, and started apologizing profusely to the clerk, who came over and helped Andy pick up. While they were doing this, Cal walked out of the store with his stolen supplies, and no one knew the better. After the display was righted, Andy said sorry again and left the store, following Cal to the bar window. I love that trick - thought Andy – works every time.
The rest of the scheme went exactly as planned, and as cups and insults went flying through the air, Colin and James made their exit. They didn’t realize, though, that a pair of eyes was watching them carefully, as they went out. The eyes belonged to someone who seemed to recognize them. Colin and James went to wait a few feet away from the window, where they met up with Andy and Cal.
Everyone was there. Colin, James, Andy, and Cal were all waiting to hear the familiar whistle call. They were still unaware that pair of calculating, familiar eyes was following them.
At the pier, hiding behind a box of cargo, Iden judged the situation. James, Colin, Andy, and Cal were all in front of the bar, ready to go. My plan worked, thought Iden, Most of mine do, but I never got credit for them before, when I wasn’t the leader. But now I am, and my first big plan has worked. But only so far, he reminded himself.
It was time. Iden counted to three in his head, as he always did, and as soon as the count was up, he whistled his group’s special whistle.
Iden stood up and brushed off his pants. He turned to face his friends, who were running as fast as they could to the ratty old ship. “So far, so good.” Iden whispered. And then, everybody ran up to where Iden was standing, and caught their breath quickly. Colin even sat down for a minute.
“Man,” James said, “I’m glad we got those guards. ‘Cause after all that adrenaline and running, I don’t think I’d be ready to fight them for the rights of this boat.”
“Okay guys, great job. Congratulations on work well done.” Iden grinned at them all. “And I’m glad that getting those guards did go so smoothly, guys, because if any officials were here, we’d be in a hell of a lot of trouble.”
“That’s very true.” came a familiar, but different voice. Everybody jumped up and turned around, and saw that, behind Iden, there was a seventh boy. Iden turned around after the rest, and with shock and recognition in his eyes, he said “You.”
It was Otis, their ex- seventh friend and groupmate.
Iden couldn’t believe his eyes, as the memories came rushing back. He and Otis had been best friends, inseparable, only about six months ago. Otis had been the leader with Iden as his sidekick, and they had collaborated on plans and plots together as much as they possibly could. And then, something had changed. Otis had met a guard out on the street, and he had started changing. And then, one day, he had come to Iden and said that he wanted the group to change all their ways, to stop stealing and hurting, and ask for help from the city- which would apparently forgive their past crimes and give them new alternatives. Iden didn’t really like the idea, but since Otis was his best friend, he went along with it. Iden and Otis together had persuaded everyone else to go to the city with them, too. They went to the city. They didn’t give them new alternatives, and the certainly didn’t forget their past crimes. Iden, Cal, Andy, James, and Will got away, though, unharmed, and went to their first hideout ever, the bridge, in order to not get caught by the guards, who were led by the thief turned Patriot, Otis. Iden and his comrades later found out that their ex- friend had been bribed with money and a new house for his family, in exchange for helping to exterminate the city’s greatest pests. Otis then became their despised enemy- he was an honorable but treacherous villain. And then he told the guards about their last resort hideout, the bridge. All this Iden remembered in a flash, and then saw what Otis had become in the short time of six months. He wore a navy blue and orange Lieutenant of the Guards uniform, and wore his blond hair clean and in a ponytail. He was all his old friends’ polar opposite.
“What do you want?” hissed Iden. He hated Otis now. “We’re done with you. No more pranks or “talks.” Iden had spat out the last word. After he confronted Otis, Iden retreated back into his friends’ circle.
“I noticed Andy and Colin leaving the Crocodile Bar after starting a fight. Iden, you need to find some originality. We used that one all the time. After I saw that, I knew something was up, and... “Shut up!” Iden said, cutting him off. I sound like Will or James, he then reflected aimlessly.
“Whoa. You’re not the quiet kid anymore, are you? Amazing what just six months can do.” “Talk about it.” said Andy, in disgust, gesturing to Otis’ new uniform. “What’d you step in, made your clothes so gross?”
Otis pretended not to notice the slight to his clothing. He took a step forward, to Iden. “Look, I… I want to say sorry. I first came here to bust you guys, but I actually. . ” Otis looked down, “kind of miss being in the group.”
“Tough luck.” said Iden. Otis was my best friend, but he betrayed us. Why should I forgive him, Iden asked himself.
Iden turned around to the group, and said, “Go, get onto the ship. We’re leaving Anoa now.” He faced Otis. “Don’t try and stop us,” Iden warned. “It’s five against one.” Otis looked away towards the sea. “I’m not going to stop you,” he said. “I guess I owe that to you guys. And you always beat me in a fight, anyway.”
“That’s pretty much true.” said Iden, and he walked up the gangplank. Once he got on the deck of the stolen ship, he looked down and saw Otis walking away. Then Cal went up to Iden, and stood next to him on the dirty railing. “What if that was me, or Will, or James, or Colin, or Andy? What then?” Cal walked away, leaving Iden to his thoughts.
Iden took a look back at the stolen, filthy ship, with his best friends getting ready for fast flight. Then he looked down a last time at the dock, where Otis was still not too far away. Iden whistled, the standard whistle. Otis turned around at the sound of it. “Hey!” Iden yelled, even though he’d regret the yelling later, “That’s the group whistle. And anyone who answers that quickly is obviously in the group!” Otis grinned from ear to ear, and ran up the gangplank of the old, stolen ship, a Lieutenant changed runaway. Iden stopped him at the top of the plank, saying “Only on one condition- when we get wherever we’re going, you find us all a new place for headquarters. Preferably a bridge.” “Okay,” Otis consented, smiling, “I’m good with that.”

Coda to Movement N. 2

Now I just need,
your god - damned face
out of my mind.

Because

You used to mean heaven,
but you left me at the gate.

won't ask to be let in
I'll only be put

farther away

I'd much prefer proximity
even without a voice
because infinitely,

intimately,

it's just another choice.
And I'd choose proximity over wonder,
any day.

Movement N. 2

And now the only thing left to do is
Say goodbye -
But I swear,
I can't.

I won't.
I won't, I want - I can't -


So please, don't say that word -
just don't.

Say "hasta mañana,"
and let me breathe.

I miss your breath in the morning.

falling for

fall into that space inside
where every words reads
Madonna
and every breath wants freedom

Validation
Verification
to escape Vindication of the Mind

Where her intoxication leaves you
breathless

desperately seeking anything that's still meaningful.

risk a fall
when you take a leap
so I wonder,
is it even worth it in the first place?

maybe it depends on your priorites;
or maybe just on what's at stake.

Candles

Hand and voice
comprise sensation -
almost, if not all.

turn to find
intoxication
now I can't withdraw

though, it's better to be alone -
self same, and only one's own
it's still,

so easy.

can float away
only on dreams
nothing but the way you've seen

Dizzying "but then"
"and if"

Drunk

with your own thoughts
and left

but to fumble in the dark.

no memory - only time.

wandering

danger is a myth
to pacify the liars -
don't know how to walk the ground
beneath my traveling feet.
you see.

I'm a stranger to myself,
and stranger to myself
every day -

let me understand then

where is it you've come from,
Stranger?

Maybe my own crazy laughed,
don't - ever - know - where - I've - been - coming - from
mind.

maybe,
this own little box that I keep
inside to save

from the rain.
and the wind.
and the storms,

that will want to rock my soul
like a
hit to my old battered head

but stranger, now it seems
I'm the one who lies unknown
in the middle of the road -
no broken path to

follow

I'd have never known -
how my days have grown,
from sadness into

sorrow.

just walk by till tomorrow.

nth degree now

hide my face
or hide behind my face

I wear a mask,
only to be washed away with
Salt and water

- that which is born within us
is often what undoes us in the end

tell me now what is better;

An excess
to think, sing, scream
run and drink,
the sweetest flavours of all that is -
Incite, and live outside
yourself -

To hate, but apathetically?


Or to live
in pretended apathy -
Silent beauty
The self through self - struggle
Love your mind but hate
the life you live within

the weakness that
kicks you from the
Outside

Strength may be

maybe
the answer.

Sink inside to observe better
And when you hurt you feel less.

/Dichotomy/

But both must exist to live,

I like the light
because within the shadows lies
the Great Equalizer -

To move within each other -
no depth
but the depth of
movement

pavement

cries out to the sun,
"Give me your shadows!
To paint my face
and tell their sweet stories
on my skin -"

"Won't you?"

I've been yearning for your
shadow

but your hands, are more ephemeral.

the Great Equalizer -

all is equal in the absence of light.

mind scribbles

Baby, I’m losing my mind

It’s been written on my hands

When your life is too hard to hold

I’ve lost my way again

That desperate leap

When you dive into desire -

Just to sink right in

You know you can’t keep fighting that fire

It’ll only burn you out

Again

I’ll be on the edge

If you can find me, hold me

Stay me from going off again

I’ll be on the edge

I know you already told me

But I’m losing my mind again

Feeling when it all falls over

I just won’t say goodbye

I’m already gone, won’t look over my shoulder

Because I’m scared to see what’s behind

And I’m nothing but a dream

An empty thought to write on

Everything that’s left inside

But refraining from these shouts and screams

Makes life one hell of a ride

So

I’ll be on the edge

If you can find me, hold me

Stay me from going off again

I’ll be on the edge

I know you already told me

But I’m losing my mind again

So don’t come any closer

Than what you might find

Because baby, I’m losing my mind.

Uh

just tired

turned

tried

to

tie up all those lose ends

but in the end

I’m still frayed around the edges

and I don’t remember now

quite how the pattern was supposed to be -

originally.

So easy to memorize

Unknown memory

More than thoughts but my hands remember your motions

Just the way you turn when you walk

And proceed with your hands what is

just now spilling from your mouth

Too easy

Too -

always the unknown

question.

Thoughtless

And afternoon light makes me remember

nothing quite.

Easier to remember in the night.

on what I've forgotten

In hand, in mind, in thought

Words are power

Push out the mouth

maybe

sting your tongue or

stain the page -

never innocuous as they seem

or we seem

Words confine thoughts

Define thoughts

Become ways in which

We hide thoughts

Re-align, re-combine

Extrapolate and refine

thoughts.

Our thoughts.

No dead thing, never is a word

A meaning breathlessly spelled onto page

Spelled into being

Spelled into freeing

Us

Who

We

are never quite as we seem.

Words are illusion

But I believe in the unseen