what i think about/when i think about you.

i want to be
the one
that lights the fire
in your hearth
and makes you
finally,
consumed,
burn.

laughing with a mouth of blood.

i wonder

could i love the stars

if they fell from the sky

or the moon

if it pulled the waves to my feet?

could i love

the ground i walk upon

as much as i have loved

those who have treated me

with a similar indifferent kindness ?

well it seems i have

already given away

all the love they have given me

and now i only have broken pieces to rearrange.

those already on the outside of society tell me, “love is love”

as even they forbid the love

of the moon and the stars and the earth.

love is love,

they say,

but is love still love

when you’re under construction?

this is something new. i have not written in a while, but i am back. i keep asking myself, in my life, am i transcending it all, or am i just being stupid ? here is another version of the same piece.

there once was a boy named she

who loved the sun

and glowed with his warmth;

who waited patiently

as the moon brought the waves

to her feet;

as the ground pressed up

with the same indifferent kindness

to give love

to the boy named she,

and she loved them

with the fervor with which

she loved all creation

which treated her

no different than any other atom,

but instead judged her

for spreading her love-seed

over the land

like a careless, foolish johnny appleseed;

spreading it thick on the toast

of those who only consume

prosecco and petit fours.

love is love,

you say,

but is love still love

when you’re fighting a war ?

i just wanna be a sheep

so much for dancing in time,
you pulling me in,
whipping your arms around,
the You you can sense
pushed against the Me i hope
you think i am
sloppy
and gripping me closer
dragging us around in a waltz
that ignores the music;
i don’t know what to think…
Just take the lead
I’m trying to follow your feet
Which seem to find no certain pattern
As of yet.

in the back of my mind on the tip of my tongue is the answer to it all

It seems like the best opportunities spring up in places where you aren’t especially looking for them. In my case, it happened to be a low-paying job as a waitress at an exotic sushi restaurant in the heart of my football-watching, pizza-eating, beer-drinking hometown of Little Falls, New Jersey. Being probably the only person in Little Falls who has actually heard of Japan, it was not hard for me to get this job, even though I was young, had no experience whatsoever, and didn’t particularly need a job. I was just bored.

why don’t you open me up?

i can’t say why
i understand your need
to raze the peaks and valleys of your genesis
in favor of a new earth,
red and raw
like the skin buried beneath
the whole time.


i think we all need it
sometimes
but some of us
need to cut deeper
and deeper into our stem
to start to grow toward our sun.

i may be dead, honey, but i was left with my eyes.

hey
i can hear the way
you scutter around me like
the way a spider
circles its prey
already in the web.

good god,
will you just
eat me already.

i just/can’t get you out of my head

Last night
On the dank and hazy street
Of gray and silver
Two aquiline raindrops fell
And I stepped tentatively on
Wondering
When the storm was coming.

some say our life is insane but it isn’t insane on paper

 

Take Back Cool!, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Product Red

 At about 10 p.m. on the 18^th of February, a group of about fifty students, members, and supporters of the activist group Take Back NYU! began a three-day sit-in at the Kimmel Center on Washington Square. The demonstration was meant to be a peaceful protest of the university’s lack of financial transparency and refusal to make public the yearly budget, among other demands. The event got the campus community talking and brought outside attention to the university for several days as students, residents of the community, activists, and the media all gathered around the protesters. The situation, meant to be a nonviolent student protest of university policy, soon became a mish-mosh of different ideals and different ideas about the students’ actions, demands, and manner of execution.

i know it’s all about perceptions/and i accept you as my very first mover

i love this place, but i hate the people here.

but i know this is just a microcosm for the rest of the world, a metaphor; living in manhattan, trying to see the stars is so hard because of all the obnoxious light. trying to hear someone playing a guitar across the street is so difficult because of all the tires on asphalt and truck motors and squeaking breaks and sirens and wailing and and

here, it is never about what you leave behind, it’s what others leave behind for you. where does it come from? i don’t know. it’s here. get fucked up, sleep, wake up, repeat. you live, and then you die. you are no more, no less. why try? “i want i want i want i want”

how self-important you are to think that you will matter to others, because all that matters to the others you want to impress is themselves. we are all alone in this. the people, they love you because in you they see themselves. they love you because they want to be loved, to rise up, to feel better than everyone else, for just a split second; for a lifetime.

how dare you think that you are any better than anyone else, when time only can judge.

i’m not in love i just want to be touched

it’s an inescapable cycle we are bound to not by choice but by nature.