If I get to be too Abrasive... If only everything was that Grand. I buried my fangs and antlers in water. When I went bear hunting, I was almost close. I was almost close...

If I get to be too Abrasive, let me know and I'll leave you alone. Vaguely Avoiding Unsightly Patrolling I'm Honest You promised a trip to the ocean Apparent Directly Cross Pollinate beside me You're hiding, You're searching You're reaching out for something I clung like a leech, to the skin, just to see How it feels How you've known What I've told What I've done You're right I'm wrong I can see what I have done An Ouroboros dream of reoccurring themes If I get to be too abrasive, let me know and I'll leave you alone. Are you okay? For now...

Look at everything Because it’s all the same Year after year I am led back here If only Everything was grand I’ve tried To find the divide Where the pieces fit Just when I’m needed I understand that all is lost if I don’t just speak up All I know is thrown throughout There’s nothing to lie about I’ve held my tongue for far too long I’ve tried too hard to see what’s wrong But I cannot prevent all that’s going to happen Why do I feel so empty inside I’m just trying to make things feel right If only everything was that Grand…

I’m in love with a man with a hook for a hand An eye for an eye will keep me half blind You can’t choke the chicken if you didn’t do the dishes You can’t hang me out to dry… I thought I understood secret code until my pedestal was removed I’m testing out a barrel for Annie Taylor I’m learning how to read and write I want to be reborn again Can’t wait to be a new person I want to be reborn again Can’t wait to tell all of my friends Writing in my notebook that was hidden in my backpack I’ll brush my teeth until my gums bleed Can’t grasp anything if I’m always pointing fingers You’re asking for dessert without touching dinner I’ve written many versions repeating these burdens Will people even listen to the second place position I’ve been trying to perfect this crooked depiction I’ll never finish what I’ve started Always saying…I was Almost Close It’s not a party if you do it every day! It’s not a party if you do it every night!

Nothing makes sense unless we speak about the spirits Sinking in your thoughts until they have enough merit Trapped in a box with holes poked for air We all know life can’t be fair We all know that life isn’t fair Please be... Please let me find you there The sun is in my kaleidoscope What do you think will happen next? (If you think that you will burn, you’re already made of ash)

Deep within my dreams there is no sound Coming from your corpse six feet underground You speak in tongues through this planchette I move You’re promising silence once your body is exhumed How can we go underground? Beneath the winding sheet is my rival infiltrator I memorized your epitaph to deride much later I sung out my dirge as I began to dig Summoning your soul from the hell where you’ve been damned to How can we go underground? I set down my shovel With plans to disinter I crack open your coffin for one last favor I said your name and then you awoke I carved out your heart like it was a joke How can we go underground? Six-feet under

I let you read my poetry though I knew that you didn't like me I let you view my art though I knew you'd tear it apart Whose loss is it if I'm my own worst critic?

I’m just trying to memorize The instructions I had left inside Of my August Jewel case That I buried when my skies turned gray I dug it under my perch of pals It was the remnants of my broken shell To review when I am half-past dead A funeral showcase for my friends What do I do when I am doomed to be Everything that I’ve repressed in me I’ll burn like a witch, crisped at the stake Attached to a weight in the middle of a lake An immaculate perception, my vision defogged Always effusive, I’m never involved I know it’s hateful to assume, But God has devilish plans for you * I’ve been trying to clear my head and keep those thoughts buried in the sand I keep thinking about what everyone will say after I am buried and start to decay Was I in fact ever enough for everyone that I gave my trust Crisped and drowned and buried out of view My God has devilish plans for you.

Who the hell taught you to hammer? The steeple you’re hitting isn’t getting any deeper Do me a favor and grease the tractor And while you’re at it feed the cattle *Can you show me how to milk a cow? So I can do it all by myself There’s so much for me to understand As a cowboy on a cattle ranch Approach a cow from the side, not its face And you forgot to shut the green graze gate Let out the chickens, and get the eggs Then I’ll tell you what we’re doing next Digging in the dirt with the bobcat bucket Don’t forget about the water trough running Feed the cats and weigh the calves Fixing fence and putting in ear tags * * * The farmer The square baler The storm center in September The horses The Herefords The nerve centers of September

You are the mountain I am the lion I don’t know what anything stands for I’m just always trapped in the middle Storm clouds gather right behind my back But I just see the sunlight where I’m looking at You can’t belittle me Liar, Lions, Lost Fur, the Bad Lands My friends are your friends But there’s blood on your hands This is corruption Leaking like a fountain With coins surrounding Me while I’m drowning If I am the mountain Are you the lion There’s nothing left except me

You’re so sure that you’ve heard this before You scream like a whisper And you saunter like a whimper I’ll spit out an enormous amount To let you in and wear my skin How is it? Does it really fit? There’s a hole in my back where you tried to attack And a fang lodged in my throat Snagged and burned in a pile of urns The board is talking in distance slurs Tell me Ouija is it them or me Is this a part of your prophecy A mirror of magnets and an ego so frail Take your hands and raise the sails A ship so vast that it won’t move in a hush Your internal struggles aren’t really worth that much It’s happening again and again You’re so sure you’ve heard this before It won’t happen again because of this I’ll get your poison out of my skin And then this is it It won’t happen again This time I won’t let you in

Ludicrous Sobrietist Cannibal Cosmologist Rethink your guess when reaching for the light switch Conscious Accuser Danger Ensuer Putting all the bad thoughts Away in a lock box Venom in my veins Leaking from my fangs I’ll show you what I mean When you throw a curse at me Wipe that look from your face Will you ever learn your place Mocking moments I arranged I’m a victim dressed in chains Steam hinged hijack Reinforced relapse I finally understand now The reasons you are without Your blame infested Hell hole Wrath will dwell through your home Constant replays Blocked passage ways Will this ever end for you?

If I had Antlers the size of towers, Would you back away like a coward If I had thorns that entangled my horns Would you survive if I impaled your heart? I have tusks growing from my mandible Thick black spikes coming from my spiny shell Quills that can prick the highest defense A beak that can spit and claws that can skin If my tentacles could latch on your skull Would you dart away if I uncoiled If your whiskers can’t sense what this concerns I suggest you mind your own feathers My dorsal fin saws off your snout My spine has curved and my furs ripped out Ill kick my hooves Deflect your stinger from my veins And use my fangs to devour your remains If I had Antlers… This is enough…

I’ve been characterizing myself through my own apprehension. Wearing out my body through my double-checked self-doubt. I quake throughout letters I’ve written and rehearsed for years. I never swallowed the blood that pooled inside of my mouth What’s your favorite film? Care to tell me about yourself? I’ll fill you in on travels that sailed no further than the trash on my bedroom floor. Will you actually listen? I’ll wash the dishes and tell you about wisely choosing your words. How does it feel to be the one that everyone wants you to be…Like being dragged by a horse across fields and oceans and off the sides of Earth? I’ve been leaning on certain feelings revealing themselves for something simple like the same deck of cards being shuffled for the fifth time. What am I to do when I am just ruins? Buried underground with no friends. Will I stand the test of time? But how can I, if I’m always picking up the broken branches of others that are midway through soaking in my own sink water Doubting my intentions while soaking with the dishes. Where have you been since I last came to visit? I brought my notebooks to prove who I am, but of course you don’t even look at them. I got my scars from cuts, from friends, that you said I’d never see again. But here they are poking knives. Just like the old times. Walk the neighborhood at night. What did you want to be when you grew up? Have you tried to rest your affliction? Are you still trying to touch yourself just to get attention? Driving towards home thinking of what you did. Repeatedly taking showers to get rid of the filth. And with every storm, the trees begin to shed, and here I am picking up branches again. I’m the leaky faucet dripping into a clogged drain. No one’s home, fill the sink. Never knowing when exactly the house will flood again. I think I’m happy and I think you’re lying. You’re crying over spilt milk that you poured inside me. Turn the lights off if you’re not going to use them. Close the front door, you’re letting the cold air in. Take a short shower, use all the hot water. You’re not the same, you’ve changed. What’s your lucky number? It plays in my mind one step at a time. I was trapped in the drain when the flood began. (Your branches are soaking in my sink water) You didn’t visit me in my dreams when you died that night, but it’s all right. I never wrote you letters when you were alive. I can’t decide if I’m terrified or if it’s right to face my fears one last time. All my life I’ve dreamed of branches growing out of sink water. I’ve filled notebooks about nothing but how I am reacting to everyone and everything. I’m always picking up the broken branches of others that are midway through soaking in my own sink water

How can I compare my hand to the bear claw of a man? I sit like a wolf at the table waiting to dig his fangs in the neck of his dinner. I grin with my lips, hiding my teeth, and that’s the first thing you notice about me… Will you take me Bear Hunting? Do you think we’ll find something? Will you take me Bear Hunting? Will you take me there? I observe from a distance and exam the task. I set the bear trap and wait for the attack. To see these scenes of repeating history If you’re not the liar, then what does that make me? * The first moves been made... For the second I’ll wait. You miss all the shots that you don’t aim. The poacher craves the thrill of the hunt. Are you afraid of a loaded gun? Will you take me Bear hunting? It’s becoming all or nothing I just want to feel something When you take me Bear Hunting…