things I should have said

I’d rather my state
be altered
than rendered
innate
inane

I’d rather be a blade
of grass
than alter the past

I’d rather be
a blade of grass
moving in the wind

than frozen
in a state of
winter stasis

I’d rather be a memorable melody
from some forgotten song
no lyrics
only a note or two

than be a remarkable
face
in a crowd of sycophants

I would rather have no breath
than have my lungs
compressed, no air left

to scream

to breathe a song
no one will read

to be the best me
you will never meet

I’d rather be asleep
than be comforted
by the lie I claim to lead

I’d rather be awake
than be confronted
by demons when I sleep

I would rather choke on dirt
than be silenced by
the things I should have said

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Not That Boy

I don’t know who I am

I am not that boy

throwing rocks
breaking eggs
casting stones
breaking glass

I am not that boy

with four eyes
fifth-grade disease
missing class
pissing pants

I don’t know who I am
or I simply forgot
or I never even knew
to begin with

what do I know
I don’t know shit

I forgot the face which
I mirror

I broke it
the mirror

just to see how far
the shards would go

I broke it
the mirror

complicated I am

I cracked it
the mirror

how flawed I am

I am not that boy

I am not that man

Shave and & a Haircut

Do these hairs
contain my DNA?
because every time
I get drunk I
want to shave them clean
and forget my name

do you ever smash beer bottles
against mosaic lawn table
like rehearsing for
the bar fight of your life?

do these thoughts
encompass my soul?
because every time
I think them I
want to scrub them clean
and forget my self

do you ever imagine
yourself crashing
road rashing into
a beautiful red bouquet
blood blossoming to blot out the pain

as if I could change my appearance
to compensate
for what I cannot contain
as if I could erase my eyebrows
to stop the rain from getting in

I don’t really want to forget my name

I don’t want to forget my self

so I guess I’ll keep letting it grow
until the itch
becomes unbearable
so I guess I’ll keep growing it out
until I feel
the need to change

I guess I’ll keep keeping on
and keep the clippers at bay

Redacting a Lie

Stressful to behave
a little apprehensive
awestruck beneath us

(lie a little to survive)

glassy ice; I spy a magpie

revel in the sound
of (lie a little more)
silence

quieting the restless
lessons anchoring
schedule intensity

(lying to surprise)

keynote speaker
inspiring cold-weather
skill level

a modern playground
promising
the possibility of a little quiet

(another lie)

Moment

Someday

I may miss
this moment

like so many
gone before

slipped through cracks
in the pavement

I used to walk

daily routine
taken for granted

this moment
slips through

fingertips

like grains of sand
like flakes of dead skin

hate it at the time
but miss it
when it’s hindsight

snuggling up to the idea
of a perfect life

all while kicking away
soft warm blankets
sweet wet dreams

the good times
they are before my eyes
I cannot hold them

the good times
in my prime
I cannot replicate them

I count faultlines
as the clock ticks on
pausing for no one

yet I fail to see
the good in me

at this very moment

Malware

Off-kilter
unbalanced
I feel off-center

maladroit
malcontent
I feel maligned

sleep would be
the only way
to reset my mood

I can’t lie still
my world is spinning
away, out of control

out of sequence
unleashed
I feel out of sync

sardonic
insatiable
unable to say no

a slap in the face
would be a great way
to end this day

I can’t sit still
my head is spinning
away, I can’t hold on

W/Teeth

I never smile
with teeth
so when I see them
all pearly in photographs
I assume they are fake
(not the teeth, the smile in front of them)

but maybe it is me who is fake
me, the one who never shows teeth

should I be trusted,
the one who never smiles?

Toward Stasis

Imagine
mirror image
distorting what I see
a portrait of self-conscious being

I have this habit of not
being myself
when interacting with strangers/
friends/family/colleagues
of entering through exit doors
stammering to make you smile/
acknowledge my presence
of dropping keys & glass things
of tripping on shifting sand

I have this funny thing
where I overanalyze
every word I’ve ever spoken

that’s why I prefer to write them down
white them out

that’s why I black out & cobblestone my dreams

wake up wondering why I steer toward stasis