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http://emanuelwrites.blogspot.com/2009/05/passion-pit_31.html

ways and things:
where we never get tired of second-person

[i 'unno]

at least I'll be honest about my lying:
I hide poems from you.

I tuck them away like buzzing phones during sex
push them back in, like garbage pressing from inside a bulging closet
bulging like my my cheeks while trying to wrap these appetent words in my tongue

shrugging like "[i 'unno]" with mouth and eyes full
of things I just can't let stream out

lest they damper our fine run

lest they make this tightrope too slippery

Get up.

I'm always trying to make eye contact
when your looks are running away

it's like how I try hardest
when a back is turning my way

I think if your eyes
hit me back
while I was trying to connect

it would set these lids on fire

or I feel that way. I don't actually think it,
because that's a stupid thing to think.
but it feels that way, it is a terrifying prospect.

I think I know why you would never let our eyes lock:
because it's asking too much of you

"I'm not that good of a liar. this is way out of contract"

I know, I know
there's a limit to how much you can portray;
that those fingers love mine
as much as mine do yours

but you know, you know
I like to pretend too

I'm sorry for teasing the curtain
I'll behave, I promise

now, say it again. say it for me.

forge me another smile

like a sweet food
for pleasing my mouth

before the light can hit it
having the heat
turn its hollow insides out

hey

you, hook crooked into the gums of my Will
jerk me up and out
of socks and shoes

I have a blueprint in my bag,
designs for a "Thank You"
much more illustrious than what
the meager supplies I currently possess could construct faithfully

so here it is:
a placeholder

a little wooden figure
stuck together with spit
by my fumbly hands

they'll steady one day
and the ode they'll sing...

just you wait!
you'lll see!

warp records

one by one
they came straight out of her mouth
brushed my ears
stuck my eyes
rested on my chest
where my arms could wrap and hold them tight

"they shake me deaf and dumb"

I showed her exactly how to do it
with tongue lolling
head hanging back

her affection was a hammock
for my heart
tied between my balls
on a string that flicked
in and out like
old tv

"it was so clear to me, that it was [] invisible"

they were beautiful

for so much time
they crawled into cuddled into my hungry arms
like little children dolls

as moons and days seasons and paths passed

I stood there, sight warped around her face
loved by the sand of her voice

while her hands brushed against and through other legs
in what was dark to me

while other fingers
cowled around her shoulder and collar

beautiful gorgeous gifts
with my name all over them
emanated

"wretching pennies in a boiling well"

the figures in my hands
began to fit oddly against one another
warping in the heat

until they began to split apart
like flowers
or scabs

and her shape remained the same
but the colors sickened

and her teeth began to be sung out to me too
and they submerged into my skin
and twirled themselves
fanged drills burrowing into veins
flinging in the currents
till they could sink into
where it all came from
she wants it all

she has plenty of rows
for motherfuckers like me

and when they sink
I will, too

under the weight of these splitting damning twisting words
barbed in my embrace

this is a funeral.
this poem is a eulogy

NOT ON MY WATCH

and I am watching now

wai
nah
no
ah'm
nah't
y're
duhn

get oudda my sight
get offa my buddy list
get oudda my contacts

over,
again

"the next time you say forever"

the next time you say never
I will kiss you on your face
/
just because you didn't mean it
doesn't mean I won't believe it

---
but that's what you were banking on, hunh?

lyrics I wrote for my noisy garage psych pop band from california, Black Bats

waste my head in a line of smoke
you ain't got what I need
to feed these hands

chase my head in a wood of smoke
will you meet me there?
could you meet me there?

waste my head in a line of smoke
how come I breathe so true
in this case

chase my head in a wood of smoke
now come and bleed yr
worries to me

this case
don't leave no room
for bullshit

this case
just takes
your heart's first bones

this case
don't leave no room
for bullshit

this case
just takes
and takes
and takes

it all
just takes
and takes
and takes

furbelow

contrary to statistical belief

I don't enjoy being a spade dug into in a desert of white

on principal
/
white shit. poop.
/

gonna burrow through these sands
til hue is indiscernible
past hard rocks
and swirling stubborn refuse
til I find
something good to drink

ahhh the REALest monsters, nigga!

these wandering monsters held me
in their palms

as I yammered, my chest and nose swollen
crying

"hey

HEY:

every time you breathed
it stamped a wave on this clay
lodestars for my love
you let me hang on the fur
of your back
dragging along till my feet could steady
into the clomping stagger you see today
but now it is like big hands letting go
of a tiny waist to let the wheels ride
freely

for every dot I see,
you will be whales
in my heart
swirling, booming beautiful
the echoes of your voices
vibrating across everything
giving it shape and coloring

so then, maybe you will be dolphins too
because you are massive in my being,
because the sound and song you make is gorgeous and all-encompassing
but also because it is the method by which I see all around me
(and also you are supersmart, and also you are good to my tongue)"

these wandering monsters held me
in their palms
I slept, woke, ate, and dreamed there

and they walked on and on
looking down at me
the smiles on their mouths
as big as my whole body

until one day,
the thumpthumpcrunchthump
of branches underneath feet stopped

and I stood up in my nest
and looked about,
we had come to the edge

They all stood shoulder by shoulder,
fuzzy monoliths in the night

and pointed out across the valley

I turned, staring up at their eyes
(like rows of glowing moons, but with pupils!)
climbed, reached up to stroke and lick
their lashes

and we whispered to each other

and then I ran back down their arms
across their outstretched fingers
and leapt

countdown

wash me
cut my hair
steady my head

soft

draw lines across my body
like kind little braille books to examine
for when the lights are shuddering messes

in slow motion

I want to watch you dance
in slow motion

shimmer all around
sight races up the sky

this is it

only natural light

there is a room that is a full heart

i w s

behind the dark, heavy curtains
we are raining

behind the dark, thick curtains
we are lighting up

sparking, sparkling
like hail on the inside

a mouth crackling, with smile
like pop rocks

sweet, simmering

listening

I am sorry

for someone to look to me,

for all that is thrown up and out
to drift into dead air
maybe with an affirmative grunt poked in
every while

pretty much just so we both
know my phone connection isn't broken
again
/
I imagined myself much better at these things
when I was listening to Evanesence
I figured:

I could make people start laughing
ergo
I could make people stop crying

the personal career I laid out in front of my pre algebra self
was streams of milk and blue sky

just wanted to help
/

that was a long time ago.

/
I envisioned a cape of ego

I envisioned Fixer

those were stupid, stupid things.

based off a series of
televisioned facsimiles

baby baby baby you aint never lived a day in yr life

/

I have a friend my age who still holds those superman dreams

I wouldn't dare indulge that fantasy: break down
humans to projects

but

God

Damn It,

At This Point

I just wish I had more to say than "mm"

gastroparesis

sit down
have some food

now
I know
you weren't really mad

you couldn't have been surprised

don't look at me like that

you knew these eyes had feet

that's why you chased in the first place

this monotheistic bullshit

I'm the selfish one?

perimolysis

it is the sound

of a a drain

shredding through the night

or

a metal box, full of fire

wisping all thrown into it

into only dark air and powder

(if that is clearer to you)
//
again
I am not fond of direct conflict
-
I think that maybe
if I keep trying to stuff you down that drain
eventually my hand will snag on a knot
in your hair
and go down with,
whirred to formless blood:

anything being ejected
will claw for life, or spite
all the way out
//\\

I think

I am giving myself too much credit

I am not willfully excising you

I would like to believe that this is

like wrapping roots in my hand

and jerking a leech from it's home in the dwindling green

but maybe it is more like

me rolling a bit further down the bed

maybe it is like

me discarding old clothes

(they will pile pile pile
I will stumble upon them
in the basement [in your case,
it is my mini-feed]
and "tsk," like an asshole]

and huffing into the sunlight in my fresh pair of skinny jeans

as if things in the peripheral don't bite
//
I am shedding faster than I can coat

I will get caught mid-molt

in the jaws of a big Lonely beast

and be carried away into a tunnel of ice

I was walking on your Heart

I just think of waves coming
swallowing
taking bit by bit

In anticipation,
there is trembling
mass amounts of trembling
shaking rumbling
growing louder

Looking up into the sky
expecting you,
only to find a wall of water
arching it's way downward
to me

Like a bird of prey

coming to dis integrate

coming to dis appear
these tracks

Oh man how I thought they'd be here forever
oh man how I forgot no tracks last
nothing lasts

//

I want so bad
to twist the resolution
of this piece

like the stem of a plant

so it can be looking up at sunshine

but it feels like there's an oven
around my chest
and I can't reach it

I don't want to leave this here
like, withered

I really don't.

un

have tooo

slam face first into you

only way

to break the screen

you can't see it

but it wraps every word I put out

we were never friends

one day you'll figure that out

then

the barrier will be

too big to joke my way through

say too many flake

say not enough call

when my eyes turn back

they will be wet

you will be muttering behind thick glass

and then you will be gone

g

following behind you
picking up feather
after feather

they are all stained wet red

you are staggering

down a boiling room corridor

the furnace is flushing the room with the sound of steam
almost loud enough

to drown the sound of you heaving,
the popping and curling in your throat

and the dripping from your skin

staining the feathers shed from your beat frame.

I speak too loud/get too close/think too hard:

and your head whips around

I see your teeth are grinding against each other
incessantly
your jaw cracks and cracks and

your face is all dark

except

your eyes are furious golden tunnels
ringing shrill burning shaking
me

I cannot move in their light stream

stuck

until you pull them out of me

and turn your taut veined neck back front

put your head back down

and go back to dragging yourself forward
back to leaking and dropping

and I can continue cleaning

call back

I'll cup my hand over it
with a flame under
and heat and push and heat and push
until I can warp the image held therein

if this doesn't work
I will explode it
blow it out
till there are too many pieces

for a mind to breathe in
to reconstruct
a memory

nah
get it the fuck away from me

I bolted
it dangling behind me
attached by a dark cord of viscera
like a screaming dagger

throwing (pieces)

hugging
with all the gait of a headbutt
/
thrown by tyson
in a bad dream:

just aaa reflex
just aaa memory can't get rid of

just soooome baggage to crack a
melon with

TOO CLOSE, MON

many ways/ chasing

older and lighter

with a phone

that is newer and darker

both of them are less weighty than what I have to offer

lefty

Last night
you were trying to send me messages
I was too tired to receive them

I'm awake now

staring at a few too many lesions

every one like a petal of faith plucked off
and laid quietly at our feet

I think the wind will come soon
and wash them away

The Right Time:
the two hands on this clock
roll around of their own accord
bowing and sprinting in separate seasons

honestly
it's a shock that they sync up even twice a day
and funnily enough,

it seems that whenever
they do come in range

one or both has their head turned
the other way

passin' by

but time does not change. it will wear you
like a beautiful new dress from a corner boutique

wear you

like a hand clicking, clicking, against the same
gear
until it finally decides to softly remove itself
from your face

worn

"some hearts bleed"/ a resolution (even though we know how those often go)

know I can't get rid of the shark on my heart
so I will peel you, little pirahna
fang by fang
off of my lungs

I can not let you suckle anymore
breaths from me

I know how you work
you've told me your secrets
I know your plays

and regardless of your promises,
I see your fabled Xs and Os (XOXO)
running all over my body
like red ants
like crazed gravediggers
throwing passes

throwing passes
shaped like carrots
for my hungry hands

I catch them
and they will have fuses
quickly sinking away
hissing hissing
like killkill snakes

sinking away
into the volatile black
on the inside

and I'll look up into the camera
"why that's not a carrot, that's DY-NO-"

BOOM (boom pow)

my face is already blacker
than usual
I spent the weekend at the beach
almost drowned
buried myself in sand
alone.

this is not a metaphor.
but it is about to be.

I'm eighteen now
I am: Independent

I am perfectly capable of doing all these horrible things
to myself now

with no outside assistance

there's a shark on my heart
and I can't really afford any distractions
when dealing with that many rows of teeth
(shifting, whirring teeth, like gears,
leaping and then sinking in deep and then leaping, also like waves
unpredictable, hitting you and then dissipating before you can
even put a name to it, also also like a whirring phantom boxer
swinging and swinging at you and you flinch every fucking time
because you never know when her/his fist is going to become solid
and knock the shit out of you and sometimes even he/she will swing
and the fist will be in the process of passing through you and then turn tangible and you'll be stuck with a fist inside of your chest, maybe it'll sit there its fingers poking violently at your insides for a while before suddenly jerking tearing it's way out of your flesh and of course then continuing assault )

basically
what I'm saying is
I don't have any fucking time for you anymore.

thanks for the poetry.

washing washing away

sometimes
dealing with you
is like being in the shower
when the water suddenly turns brown

hoping the lights will follow suit,
going dark

so I can go back to not worrying
about it
/
this rusting can be ignored

can't it?