Narrative Function
it makes sense for you to have your way now; i won't argue with the way things fall. but fall they do and easily do you let verbs exhaust from your mother tongue. mother, place me—subject—but please spare me—actions—all.
by principle, syntax occurs, arranged by logic and universe, that entities exist and move and act in phrase. i predict we shall both come to know the failed attempts of moving maze. beginning to end within me, so completes our dialogue, the end.
but such my comforter to submit defeat again, relearning basic ways to narrate nouns in place of your name.
one and every which way, passage spreads now. scriptures of the rich and lucid lands which sprout tall tales from seeds of Lot's partner's sinning salty hands. rules of language germinate to err and turn right back to dust again.
shout to the Lord all the earth let us sing that power should only belong to my king. should i bow down lest his wrath should roar and the sound of another name. i weep for regret at the work of my hands. forever i will know that i did not stand. nothing compares to the promise i have in you.
Everything In Fidelity
you could make the argument that words are only meaning what you want them to. universes, spelled in consonants and compliments—disgraceful in politeness.
we should make the argument that words are only meaning what you want them to. predisposed to take my confidence and compliments, advance them to affections.
i'm a liar in every sense of the word. you'll find me distracted in piles of past tense verbs i've retracted.
it's not hard to choose what to tell you. all or entire, sincerity's for all of us. no, we never lie, but the language tries and veils us. we love to guess our meanings, yes.
it's not hard to choose what to tell you. all or entire, fidelity's for all of us. no, we never lie, but the language tries and veils us. we love to guess our meanings, yes, but
we are liars in every sense of the word. you'll find me distracted in piles of past tense verbs we've retracted. i'm a liar in every sense of the word. you'll find me distracted in piles of past tense verbs i've retracted.
Chaos Theory
i never meant for this to escalate, but i pardoned for politeness and by then, it was too late. you could save me in a moment if you just let go, if you just said no. but i'm too tired and i need my silence from all words and unsightly sound.
how'd you think that i was waiting—for yours—reciprocating? i sneeze and a butterfly's wings will beat; the chaos theory's proven to me.
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Say Anything About Nothing
i have a thousand thoughts and prayers to give. you could have any—all of them—if you wanted them. they say well-placed silence makes a beautiful sound, but that is not the kind that i hear now. condescending, like secrets are for the proud.
i dare you, be straight, say nothing, say anything out loud. say anything
In Memory
i see the waves and they fall back down again. breathe deeply we do. i'm sorry to say that the castle's blown away, such prints that lead us back to land.
so sorry, i know that you'll miss me. you know of the things we had. but time is awaiting and fleeting, so go on, i know you can.
taking place on the shore, which will drift forevermore, night falls predictably. don't watch now, the time runs out like sand into the sea.
Letters
i wrote letters about you. i wrote letters about you, became words about you. became sentences about something which i now forgot, but we forgot me too.
letters words sentences
you and me
oh, how beautiful.
Here Loud
empty rooms make it feel like noise can fill all that space, resonating against all the phrases, pauses and rhythms that dictate sound and tremors.
my will is all about the chance my sound will reach your ears when you're upstairs, hoping that echo takes out every flaw. i know your ears are sensitive to movement, waking sine waves.
anything, don't stop anything
you are beautiful to me
i'm okay if you write the words for me, since then i don't feel the urgency. see, i do not know how to swim; i drown in words, in meaning and synonyms.
i can opt for the silence part, the pause that needs no words at all. now i hear the finite sound, like crickets on the floor, like rain falling on the a/c unit. it's you, dear, that's what i fear.
anything, don't stop anything
you are beautiful to me
6:30 AM
if you don't know why i'm so nice to you, why should i try. if i'm so nice and you don't care, then why should i even bother. i don't do it to get anything in return, but why do i try so hard to get your goddamn attention; you don't give two shits.
if you don't know why i'm so nice, nor do you notice or say thanks. who raised you, anyways. were you an only child; didn't know that you could be affecting someone else. guess that didn't cross your mind.
if you don't know why i'm so nice to you, then why should i even try. if you don't know why i'm so nice and you don't care, then why should i try.
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Might As Well Reconcile
feel comfortable in the place and time that you are now, warmth and presence—privilege of ties that we allow.
it's the same—things we all know: mother's touch, watching first snow, smells of homeland, tender moments. now's the time for peace on earth.
the skies tell us how small and shared we are.
if you knew that you could be part of understanding and be the first forgiving, let go of whatever we've been holding as ransom for honesty, all the harmonies would line up. calm would pacify us, language cease to bar us.
thinking of past arguments and fights that we have had, absence, conflicts, regrets of ties that we let pass.
it may seem like we can't do anything about these disputes. what's it, pride? was it wounded? still there's time to think of movement.
the skies tell us how small and shared we are.
if you knew that you could be part of understanding and be the first forgiving, let go of whatever we've been holding as ransom for honesty, all the harmonies would line up. calm would pacify us, language cease to bar us. i'm ready to see that kingdom emerge in us.
To Lin With Love
slowing down gently, i know that you have not lost hope. as a child waits for the sheets to rise, mommy daddy. i always wish your sickness would cease, but don't hurt yourself, please. the torment of the tempest's storm merits no lifetime to mourn.
the dimmest constellations spell out the confirmation. cat's cradle beneath the table, hands, string, they intertwine. if you'd look up to see what your existence does mean, a glimmer waits for your time, i trust you one day will find.
sometimes the wills of men fail. sometimes our hearts become frail, trudging along life's road. if cows can jump over the moon, i will be there with you soon.
if comfort please us, live then we must. |
