I don't write when I dont mean it

I don't call it when I don't see it
I don't wear tight pants because they are comfortable
or laugh when there's no reason to
I don't go out on a limb when I do not believe
there is a stem worth wrestling
Its not everyday
that I check myself twice before leaping
not everyday
that I spend a bit too long in front of a mirror
wondering if my wrinkles have grown too deep
or my eyes have been ripped too far open
I don't hastily dream
Or deal my cards on the table
just cause
I don't apologize freely
Its not everyday
that I plea with the gods
to make this a time worth living for
I'm deliberate when I choose to be
and I choose to be here
for this
for something
worth more than magnificent
worth more than possible
worth more than the seams that bind me
I don't climb walls unwillingly
publish myself
without intent
I don't fall asleep causally
or wreck houses unknowingly
I mean to intrude on your will
and to long for something real
I do not stand where I do not intend to
or hope for things
I do not plan on becoming. 

You are the best thing that has happened to me

because now I'm pissed and writing again.

I'm not censoring myself
because when I'm alone
there's no one left to appease

tip me over
and pour me out
in a way that smells of roses
and leaves a dark charge boiling in my stomach

I can open the floodgates
and let the volcano spout
send flames higher
than the sail I flew for you

I can stab the mask
and drag its insides down the wall
my bloody fingertips
are laughing at your universe
cause I don't have to make this palatable
or pretty for you anymore

I don't have to pretend that I am a soft, delicate creature
with kind words
to soothe your impenetrable soul

I'm just raw
and impetuous
an unapologetic killer
of perceptions
of false pretenses
of lies. 

direct flight backwards

ten years ago
when you picked out a house
for our future

when i was too distracted
to notice
you meant it

that house
is looking perfect
for us now
and the five children
you envisioned
rolling around on the lawn
with no shoes

children should never be in shoes
you said
they should never care about clothes
or drinking lemonade at midnight
or going inside just because I said so
I dismissed your romanticism
but I finally agree
this is true

that we should rest at the end of every evening
together
with a drink in our hands
and casual conversations
wrap our fingers around
napkins that match the new couch
your mother bought us
we should marry

plant a garden
replace the lights
take turns with the trash
watch our kids catch fireflies
and discuss
changes in our neighborhood
from our front porch swing
let our skin grow old together

I have since tossed and turned
in the sheets
staring at the ceiling
at all hours of the night
picturing the Sunday
you picked out the house
I wasn't brave enough
to step into
and longingly desperately now
to assure you
that i am ready to inhabit it. 

I find everything depressing

most especially
happy endings

I do not weep for the characters
who stand on the brink
of irreversible and ugly truths
what a cruel fate
the universe returns

when i was a child
I stopped believing
in fairy tales
I squeezed rotten fruit
from my pen
until it hung
like molasses
and plunged to its death
taking the sidewalk and every loving thought
with it

the way words
come undone
is easier than teaching them to fly
when all we have left is a photograph
one miserable longing

one everlasting conversation
with defeat.

Exclamation Point

I explode the stars

that form symphonies

I am the one
that catapults red thoughts into space

to bounce up
to bounce down
to bounce up again

to break the ceiling tiles

with a hammer

shatter glass houses
with a single swoop

I am

a thunderous bird

through the universe

on wings

that hold
the most passionate conversation that’s ever been heard

an unapologetic soliloquy

or an uninvited guest

when one carries a question mark

meant to explode

helium is released to the sky

filling balloons
never meant to return to earth

with such forces
never intended to meet their creator.

a work in progress

you could skip the cover

peel back the pages

to find us

lose yourself in the binding

flap your arms

like buoys in the pacific

like an angel in space

after introductions commence

and the scenery unravels

between the words you could search storms

if you really wanted to find us you could

overturn tables or wander caves of apostrophes

shift beneath the tiles and character corridors

you could study the climax

or bounce glaciers

on the palm of your hand

push back the gates

or rip open the seams

climb entwined chapters

story building arms

bite into the narratives
that leave you gasping for air.

thoughts on meta cognition

Meta-cognition is thinking about thinking. This activity can be addictive and it can lead to "analysis paralysis" in the end. You fail to act because you are too busy working through the mental processes. It is important to remember that you create nothing without action aside from more thoughts.

Analytical thought is a great benefit of the human mind. The ability to break things down into their fundamental components is a gift that many people admire. When this gift begins to spin out of control, it is necessary to retrain your mind to get control of your thoughts.

Spending a lot of time in a meta-cognitive state yields little productivity. You lost the ability to communicate effectively with others and you find that you are unable to take action due to your indecisiveness.