-M

The"Outer" in space.

The words accumulate to sentences and then turn to statements, which form into questions that break the atmosphere and float aimlessly into space because being heard is different than being answered. You build and build then construct pieces of shatter proof glass around your delicate space and say " This time will be different. " Your expectations drop because we all will prolly' die before we can naturally, but most the time I feel like I already have and being pale can get old. My throat crackles with reminisces  of scenes I only used to watch on the TV and I seem to understand the characters more now, but I leave space for bloopers.

Space has left too much for me to love, its dared me to accept the unpredictable and played with me in my loneliness. I muster up excuses to hide from it but it still consumes me, crying out for more. It shimmies in the summer mornings like mucky lake water and screams at me like mother used to do. I let it make me mental and mad until I couldn't speak up anymore, so I leave more and it nods its head and continues on till it gets uneasy again then peers through my confused state and dips its paws in mine. The sun brings rest to my eyelids yet the  moon brings light to my eyes and smoke through my lungs like a jumper to trains.

Blood doesn't guarantee you love, it guarantees you hurt, expectations and questions, my blood has died, has left the state and has put more space in me than pluto ever could from the earth. Yet I need more space to think to have her understand but I am tired of thinking, sick of swallowing and above analyzing.    Where did her face go? The one that matched mine when we used to build forts and catch lightening bugs, while sneaking sweets when mom was cooking. Why do I crave her attention? Why do I need it, and why does she not realize this? She cares. But only when it is convenient and nothing is convenient anymore.
Just let me go, I love Outer-space too much to think of you in it.

- M

Clone.

You had a lot of crooks try to steal your heart, 
Never really had luck, couldn't never figure out
How to love, how to love, mmm.

You say you had a lot of moments that didn't last forever, 
Now you in this corner trying to put it together.
How to love, how to love, mmm.

For a second you were here, now you over there, It's hard not to stare, 
The way you moving your body like you never had a love.
How to love, ohh. 

And you had a lot of dreams, that transformed to visions.
The fact that you saw the world affected all your decisions.



-Lil wayne.


Lil wayne is a wizard of words my friends and I am here to say he has come a LONG way from lollipop land.
I have never felt so compelled to wanna scamper through my thoughts and surgically remove any remaining strings that were attached to my juvenile lifestyle and the heartache it faced. I see myself spiraling down into this clone that was generated out of restlessness and independence, and fittin' like a glove in it. I was driving back from a utopia of mischief and   tubing earlier today this tune came on the radio, as I was listening my heart seemed to match the melody quite nicely, which seemed to trigger an infection of sorts. I was never really good at cleaning wounds and now I feel the need to stop trying to  clean it and let it take its course. 


-M 

I wonder.

-M

Window-see-all.

            

I don't know which to do first,

break a heart or someones neck.

Of course when you feel that much pain, they might as well be the same.

Everyones telling me there is only one way.

So I scatter my eyes to find the portal of light that will match my needy mind.

Instead I find an open windowsill to rest my freckled legs upon,

and pull out the remains of past escape and breathe in the troubled air. 

I stare out in the dreary atmosphere, counting bricks just for kicks

 while reviewing the hopelessness that once was forgotten. 

I guess heartache clings to those who are near, or who fear for a better future than the one that lingers in front of her face.

The fizzing TV’s and the restless alarms bring wake to her morning and alarming the senses of future mistakes to be made, but should she think that life is one circling hamster ball of dead ends and broken kens? Could her idea life be straddled by the life that exists rather than the one she will live?

 Wait of course it is scratch the question marks and future ones because we know where the carousel ends and we have seen the happiness that comes from riding mystical creatures around and around and around till’ someone hits the stop button, not you, someone.

Thinking, winking, sinking.

I need a life vest and a breathing machine just to sink down into my unwritten heart and to be honest no one likes to read a blank slate, So they don’t and look at the emotional peep show I willingly give them, because I want to love. 

I want to love.

 I want to love and know how to love.

 So I wave to strangers and shock people with my ruthless smiles because I just want to look his way and mean it. 

-M

Room for two?

Have a hot dog or two...and a bud light lime with some apple pie, ya'll.

-M

Disaster.

I laughed till I bled out all of the clues, 

that lead me to this perpetual pain that can't be replaced,

I looked for shorter tunnels to hide from the coming rain, but all I found was long, dark ones that had broken frames, so  I ran straight through them hoping to find an end, but instead I found a broken man and this is what he said" I wish I could hold you through this pain, 

I'd throw you on my back and pretend to fly away, because all we want is worthiness for the coming days, So I wish I could hold you this disaster," 

I looked into his weepy eyes and couldn't seem to find, the darkness that usually happens to reside.

So I searched my heart hoping that it could tell me more, But instead I just found another open sore.

Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me.

-M