writings from somewhere

here lies the words that i love to use, little fragments of adoration or sourness, somewhere in between newly born and finished.

[light-ful]

it was a saturday evening and as i was standing in line for a show in my hometown this boy i knew in highschool walked by me but i wasn't totally sure it was him i mean it's been five years so i got nervous and didn't say anything to him and honestly i was also a bit too high from the spliff i smoked earlier and didn't really feel like starting a conversation so i just watched him as he walked by to go meet his friends and i continued standing in line questioning if he recognized me or even remembered me and then i kept thinking and wondered if he thought of me as a friend back then like we never really hung out he was a grade younger than me and i think we only talked before bike practice getting ready wearing our jerseys sitting on the desks among the rush in the biology classroom and really the only memory i could recall was us sitting next to each other in the dark auditorium sharing earbuds listening to music and he played a song by a band i loved and i exclaimed too loudly in my surprise he shushed me i sunk low in my seat in embarrassment we laughed silently after i always treasured that moment and wished we were closer because he did always make me laugh and we got along great but it's weird at this point i mean i haven't thought about him in years but here we are in the same line for this show and who knows maybe he was remembering the same moment or maybe a different one as we stood twenty feet apart waiting for the power to turn back on

[light-ful]

may 22 2024

eugene feels weird being unable to talk to you. and yet completely mundane at the same time. 

i suppose it just is. 

if i wouldn't be crying walking alone down weber st back home i know i would be crying walking down hillyard. or some other street here. habits don't change that easily and unfortunately i know who i am.

it's just the same, really. 

games of lost and found or street signs of scribbles demanding importance. 

we repeat them over and over again. my ghost still recognizes these facts. 

my head knows that this place is no longer my home. my body, however, quivers with pooling memories. they brush over my skin like those days so many years ago, cause me to slip through the cracks of uneven sidewalk. 

i trip over my intentions. mantras and psychotic ramblings find no place to land. 

this dark and misty night had angels in the streetlights. i know that i am my only keeper. 

i know that i am my only keeper. 

i want to scream this to you—you, in multiplicities. 

us—the only real thing in my life. 

us—hidden behind every truth in the world and lie in the heavens. we never mattered!

devotion unnoticed, i've only been drifting. i've cried too much to be seen but this air could never hold me. i know it couldn't, and neither could you. i fear serendipity is fraudulent. it is a fake promise to those who have too much hope and too much ego. i worry for myself.

and i steal your words, still.

when does truth end and ego begin? i've always struggled to answer when called upon. my utmost belief in the catalyst is difficult to peel apart. i am my only keeper. 

i hate that i keep missing. i hate myself that i keep missing. it's growing tiring and burning thin. i hate how i linger on you and the questions i didn't get to ask. i'm not comfortable being with myself either.

insistence feeds my fears, repetition hurts just as much. 

do i miss you? 

was it the ferns and the heavy clouds which feel so much like my skin? 

that rain and tears are not unlike each other, that it doesn't matter when i look to the sky? 

why am i scared to face what i know exists deep down? 

my answers lack truth in their haste. 

it's time to clean house yet i'm attached to the dust in the corner.

i've always been a collector, you know. 

dreams pile up and i wonder what happens if i break their crystal enclosure. insanity in the mundane. circles and backtracks.

[light-ful]

i repeat unto infinity the tales of fun house mirrors!

urgency smears my words onto my skin

please see me see me see me!

here is my heart, i pray

i do not want to turn into shadows of ash so quietly blown

into the wind.

oh cruel indifference!

please, let me croak out the tales my tired eyes have seen!

i wish to lay my head down,

although words buried may never be heard.

desperation is never so easily warped.

[light-ful]

[light-ful]

i listen to your music

so that you are there right inside of my head

instead of a thousand miles away.

[light-ful]

tissue

sleep's sticky embrace,

hangs in the heavy air, drawn out over eyelids.

if your poster fell today, would you pick it up?

when i leave, will you dry my image up,

leave me crumpled,

in the trash with last night's grease?

or maybe i remain as a dampened indent on your cheek,

when i visit you in your dreams.

will i stay tucked away, in pleasure and pain?

(april ish, 2022)

[light-ful]

burn, unfortunate flame,

you were never meant to know.

the bite of the blade can never be taken back.

cower, stupid beast,

you should've been more careful.

the bite of the blade can never be taken back.

run, futile fears,

that self of yours needs to go!

remember the pressure will win eventually,

and that the bite of the blade can never be taken back.

(september 28, 2022)

[light-ful]

circular

life collapses inward, down the endless hole

patterns fold, mirror dimensions

appear, you better choose

repetition, that darkness

sticks, like splinter wound

in time, presence

rips open, trip over

through the floor, fall down

shattering, again as

(sept 5, 22)

[light-ful]

the summer is just one giant stomachache; love's bile fermented in sweetness turned sour.

i wish i could've gone swimming with you. then, at least that stickiness would be washed away. sticky heat, sticky sweet memories, your body heat endured for any night lucky enough to be spent holding on to you.

[light-ful]

loving a shoegaze boy

occupy my mind fuzz, into the drone, ooze from your speakers. take up space beyond physical, through my eardrums, and into my heart.

for in the reverberation, you wake up,

from the deep slumbers of my own memories.

little pieces of you tug at my heartstrings, and beg for reckoning,

or recognition,

like the rain of late march

like the touch of your skin

like dancing spinning so light in your room, fuzz in your ears and in

my mind

(aug 16, 22)

[light-ful]

SOUR TIMES ON THIS FOREVER TRAIN:

BLUE SEEPS GREEN SEEPS GREY

RUMBLE ROAD TO TIRED EYES

A HAWK IN THE GRASS

AND WET PAVEMENT

(april 19, 2022)