i ask for no expectation.

the sun has gone down twice, and already i am changed

not in age or stature

but in inner countenance and memory

number means nothing, i suppose

yet how ironic that as soon as i reach this threshold i want nothing to do with it

from bleeding, panting, sweating, and shouts

i have come

kissing a book

repressing an earthly concept of love

and daring the wind to chase me

kneeling and reading

conservative to liberal

judgment to humility

i ask for a transformation of my inner most heart,

as long as i know that someone pursues me

i ask for no expectation

just a changed heart.

whole and full.

thus it is perpetuated.

you got your yearly fix, and i was sad to hear your cries.

but i was happy to catch your tears and collect them in a bowl to dump with the rain.

washed away.

we seldom are alone, but it is in those moments before we truly awake that we are us.

but when someone else can see those threads of true stretched across our expressionless faces, we find friendship.

whole.

a little empty, but whole. covered.

we will climb these days like endless stairs, but when we reach the top, we will be whole and full.

whole and full.

our bodies are biodegradable.

why cant this work? six days from now. six damn days and half an hour earlier. let it go. let it all go because plans never complete and someone has a plan for me that has nothing to do with my expectations. so they will fall. every time. we sure are cute, aren't we? not all of us have that. not all of us have expectations put on us that have something to do with loving what i do and succeeding in it all. some of us dont have one to make us a six. in between a whole lot of no one that has concern for a lot of things. and i would carry you. i would spin the wheels so we could end up on the big screen with our hopeful friends but instead we will fall, waiting for nothing as the world spins madly on, and i am its gerbil running and getting no where. treading water while writing flashcards calls for smeared boy's handwriting caught in the dim light that makes you squint your eyes on this thursday morning that i hate hate hate. it was thesis seeking, and you only saw a "hazy, distant dream." all this work, this planning, for nothing? this time, this voice, for a zero written on my hand. you lose, baby, you lose. i put myself out over the big canyon river only to see it all disappear as my curly hair falls flat to my scalp full of nothing but negativity and words. so i will write forever until i figure out what i'm missing. one day it will come, and i need no ponds. just an end to this goal-less life of expectations, expectations, expectations and squeaky notes above the pissagio as you flip your hair and bear your thick head on top of your ignorant shoulders. give me a stage and i will explain if anyone cares to listen to my empty voice that mutters when i'd rather not speak. its tones are empty and i'd rather not ask you unless if i dont mind the stamp of pity on my forehead. for once again, this futon hurts my ass and my work is not enough. i am partial to nothing but an escape from pressure. dont tell me to stop. for i will keep going until these keys are worn out and my skull is in the dumpster. but i will. because you have places to be and i have excuses to make. until then.

sister, brother.

this picture tells it all

your smiling face,

your crossed arms

my poised leg

his hands out,

stumbling over

rocks and rivers

and

hate

for what happened

and what is surely to come

whatever happens,

don't leave me

or i will surely be the source of these

rivers

and the dust in these

rocks

sweet secret.

i have plum juice on the tip of my nose,

and no one can see

it smells like candy,

and no one can see

because no one is me,

and no one can see

bedtime story.

and in 40 years i'll learn to take,

and in 40 years i'll surely break

from all the things unseen, unsaid

pills taken with my daily bread

love like water,

see-through and thin

thoughts of tomorrow

chintzy, like

tin

pictures lost in the cream-colored walls

the color long lost and surely now

gone

and i will continue to put up these clippings

until you find me

lost, and still

tripping

at the thought.

rolling around in my head

like a ball

i'll sort out every angle,

none

look at every scuff mark,

some

and bounce to see if i can

catch you

most likely

not

so much

something good.

this feeling again

head way above me

who knows where i'll end up

so i'll leave it to fate

or prayers, or

luck

look up, up,

up

did you see me smile?

and we're all so happy with our plastic painted smiles

cringing at the thought of skin and temperamental trials

waiting for the lights to fade,

blemishes reveal

losing our id and life

skip this powdered meal

strutting with legs of solid silver

today it is i who win

cut the crap

cut the lights

take me to simple sin