Feeling spurned
at every turn
the candle burns
at no end

feeling shunned
brightness of sun
master of none
to no end

feelings feelings
feelings are the problem
sometimes I
don’t want to feel at all

routine routine
this is the problem
mostly I tire
of not feeling at all


I got a box of painkillers
but I don’t have a prescription
my greatest achievements, dried ink signed in someone else’s name 

I shake my fist, but it’s just a phantom limb

I am a sheep & I’m bleating
I am a sheep & I’m bleating
I am a sheep & I’m bleating
I am asleep I’m bleeding

I know what I don’t want
but I don’t know what I do
I’ve good intentions
but my self-doubt creeps through

I’ve got a bible of dreams
but no time to read it
I’ve got a headful of thoughts
but they’re mostly one-liners

I am asleep I’m bleeding
I am asleep I’m bleeding
I am asleep I’m bleeding
I am a sheep & I’m bleating

I write my list, but it’s just a block of text 

I don’t want to shovel
your shit
I don’t want to pedal
your wares
I don’t want to bask
in your sun
I don’t want to
sulk in your shadow

Locked In

Eyes don’t match
my inner turmoil

all I needed was a seed
but I swallowed it
did not nurture it

chill down my spine
I want that feeling
all of the time

gooseflesh & hair raised
in the best of ways

I can channel it
only for so long

the embers must go cold

I can control it
only for so long

the fire must go out

my children’s embrace
I wish I could stay
locked in forever

we never stop
being children
finding our way

Absence of Routine

Why does the absence
of routine make us sad?
when we should be
embracing what’s to come,
we should be embracing
the absence of routine.
instead I’m fighting back tears
as I’m retracing steps
from a thousand blind walks.
as I’m moving forward in time.
goddammit, fuck routine.
why am I not embracing its absence?

Neon Bug Catcher

I am a neon bug catcher
catching all the things I do not want

I am deep woods mosquito repellent
attracting all the itchy bites

I am what I need to be
and everything I am not

I could try several notches harder
at the same time I could do much worse

I have so many goal posts
I don’t have a fucking clue

I want it all on a shiny platter
I want nothing at all

Florissant, CO


Pine is in the air
Smoke is cleansing fear

Bones are on the ground
Ashes on the ground

Dirt on my fingers
Air in my lungs

Wind chimes

Fire is in the heart
Smoke erases fear

Stones are on the ground
Feet firm on the ground

The past, it lingers
But the future is my home

Dirt roads