snake in the grass.

dreaming tree, dead roses, eyeballs.
black skies surround us as they put grandpa to rest.
rest in little pieces, the world will still spin.
decomposing our thoughts, while our bodies sleep.
numbers equal freedom, and red doors
open the future to dreamers.
period, means don't go any further.
and listen to her voice.
before you enter a history book,
know where you came from.
the handmade spoon is at my grandma's,
and the way she sees it is through her yellow eyes.

green hazel eyes.

paperclip and cat tale.
the night is young while it's gold.
we will see the faces of death, we 
will greet the unknown.
it will consist of brave humans
and cold beers.
don't think, we are humble,
the dreams inside my mind is as
whole as a melon can be.
she moves up and down the highway
with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.
dead roses surround the living room,
inside glass bottles they live.
beer that is delicious, it swims on my tongue.
yellow, purple, i read the newspaper.
ink on the fingertips, rings around their waist.
follow me through the forest, green and deep.
see only love here, the last warrior.
step upon the dead, we can hear you think.

birchupsidedowntree

Don’t ever tell a girl to calm down, trust.

Here we are between a bookshelf and a banana.

The world seems different from this angle.

Beads wrapped around my left wrist.

My two front teeth show when I smile.

Ruby Red Lips whisper songs of freedom.

Smoke fills the air, mean words float.

Don’t be Sour. Also remember, 

Cool as a cucumber Torr. 

pocket poem.

I am a Dreamer of the black moon

White horizons above us as our bodies float upside down

We are holding hands in outer space.

I believe in love, I believe in us.

The yellow rose symbolizes the trust I have.

All I see is blood that is smeared on the walls of

The inside left brain.

But I want to see you and the olive green eyes. 

Please leave me a message in tonight’s night sky.

Where is the soup?

The colors are changing, fading away

The sidewalk seems soft today.

The sky fills up with cotton candy paint strokes and fog.

The fields are all ready for Winter now, no more corn.

See the cows in line ready to milk.

See the crows on the branch ready to fly.

Grass seems to die off after September,

So does the happiness. 

It is almost time to hibernate. 

i know i'm a creep

Sometimes I don’t understand my own human brain.

planning out a murder, mailing the rent check 
and fake smiling at everyone.

the world is a scary place

I remember Nelson taught me how to dive.

Morning glories point west,

the moon dances with us after dusk.