set.me.loose.

lighting the match to lighter fluid fireworks. sparks falling down in colored words. frazzled declarations of the mind. the fantasies of strawberry short sins. sounds of voices never heard echoed. in the lock box. in the corner. safety in silence. with nothing thrilling, shying towards the bolted door. unexpected analytical talent with unconventional source. layers of intricate personality, the dullest shines. the emotions monsoon of the anonymous author. questions with no one to answer. turn to the mathematics of unstable minds. articulation confirmation: necessity. two voices lost in society standards. music blaring a similar message. guidelines from broken origins. drizzled chocolate caramel atop the cherried bow. presents unfold, never told. lining the pages of the dying calendar. the metaphorical risk of vacant locked hotel rooms. camping out in the deserted hallway with a ring of mismatched keys. the car, the heart, the mind; not the inspiration, not the motivation. to speak the obvious truth. the sugarcoated anorexic ideals. fitted for the schizoparanoia. measured from left to right, head to toe, tokyo to new york. in miles, inches, imagination. summer, winter, fall. spring nicht.

conventional.poetry.in.motion.

and with this intricate drawing drew
the brave, the hungry, and the few
too much to give with little received
the storm clouds brewing under eaves
a darkness of the heart never known
all at a price for everyone to own
the whole world brimming of black and white
oh what a strange color is the night
burning through autumn to awakening spring
around the eyes the true colors ring
a deadly secret to harbor and host
as the morning approaches, unseen to most

coffee.soundtrack.

silver rings circling the cardboard
drinking down caffeinated dreams
until the last drop fades away to ink hitting the napkin
the back corner table resrved for the maximum of two
only the brave venture there to taste
the bittersweet flavor of loneliness
the aromas of asethetic desire entice the mind with delusions
mixed
the silence of the loving heart
whipped cream whims
sedative sugar syrups
blender beats bender
all contained inspiration in recycled words
"what can i get for you today?"

invisible echoing footsteps, my heart speaks in a language yet to be invented

version.2.star.r.

lost balance.
once clandestine reveries.

fallen from the tiptoeing windowsill
the playfully tuned piano-keyed grass
slipping through smiling sunshine skies
dessert wastelands of promising naivety
fingers flailing, grasping to catch whimsy white whirls

landed in the driver’s seat of an original car
speeding down a broken one way highway
fragments of life; what could’ve been/what will be
blended, splattered on the windshield

flicker over to the passenger seat
the favorite love/hate relationship, not the cricket
dirty sneakers on the dashboard
painted jeans, thumb-holed hoodie
headphones echoing musical silence.

the sky’s an infinite boundary
but the road eventually comes to an end
its still only morning
but we’re already running low on the midnight oil

the drive home to comfort, with obligated stops included
will take until the calendar business’ end
but with this 2-star-r attitude
the bottom of the gas tank concludes the journey
inevitably trapped in (un)happily (n)ever after

to days of cars and speeding hearts;
miles driven, pages turned and written in history
promise rings burning down with the candle wax
to circle the eyes staring blankly at the map

schrei ‘sie sind hier’
to a dormant personality.

schrei.

lost balance.
fallen from piano keyed grass
slipping through smiling sunshine skies
to dessert wastelands of promising naivety
fingers flailing, grasping to catch the whimsy white whirls
landing in the driver's seat of a new car speeding
down a broken one way highway
with bits of life; what could've been/what will be
blended and splattered on the windshield
flash over to the passenger seat
no longer a cricket, but your favorite love/hate relationship
psychosomatic: the new romantic
dirty converse on the dashboard
painted jeans, thumb-holed hoodie
headphones echoing musical silence
the sky's boundless limit
but the road inevitably comes to an end
its only still morning
but we're already running low on the midnight oil
the drive home to comfort
will take til the calendar business' end
with the obligated stops
but we'll see where the car runs out of gas
with this 2*r attitude
trapped in (un)happily (never)after

tell me where im going and ill tell you where im at
YOU ARE HERE

from warm tears flowing to become immobile in ice
from tracks outlined in black originate
to not even want the light from the sun
to the warmth and burn long ago forgotten

i want the warmth of the sun without the mocking color burn.
seasons come just as fast as they go. stumbling baby steps of identity crisis. days where death can't bring you down. days where stereotypes scream their prescence. comformity becomes being different. psychosematic; the new romantic. words crossed out in thought. the hidden meaning already across the country by train with a ticket bought next century. fallen leaves; the past memories. the lawn poking through; the mistakes. scream 'wake up' to a dormant personality. normality missed the memo. struggling to cross the starting line. working backwards as the summer snow blows in a final transition.

from the first day of kindergarten, a case of mistaken identity. a late bloomer finally wanting to live; only when the dying embers have nothing left to give.
to days of cars and speeding hearts; miles driven, pages turned and written in history. promise rings burning down with the candle wax to circle our eyes.