latex locomotive

and this birth control movement has given birth to a train of thought that found love stalled on the tracks and plowed right through it. And this latex locomotive has forever maimed love, limiting it to a sensation only of the mind. and in the same way that my emotions self-destruct in this containment chamber, love has imploded in its unnatural confinement. and spermicide-drenched rubber raincoats have mutated physical love into mutual masturbation. and now not only does sex not require love, but it does not require trust. fuck rufies, alcohol's the date rape drug, effective on men and women alike. and love is ideally an act of innocence: a naieve show of vulnerability. but love is dead and innocence too, buried together forever in a prophylactic tomb.

mourning innocence

i cried a river that ran red as the nile. i tore my soul in two pieces and sold one to the devil and the other to the lowest bidder, then bought a pack of camels with the profits. i felt my heart shatter into splinters and picked them up by hand until the pieces were embedded in each of my fingers and they bled. i held my arm up and watched the blood flow down towards my elbow. i waited for my roommate to fall asleep and i sat in the dark and i cried. i cried for innocence. i mourned her because no one else will. i mourned her because you were her last fucking refuge and you murdered her in a drunken stupor. innocence was hung by a latex noose, and left to swing for all the world to see. innocence is dead the newsboy said, she died and left us here to rot.

cigarette lender

you're staring right at me but seeing everyone else. i'm staring back, but my gaze is forever lost. my transparency's apparent as you stare at the visible people. and you're one of those people, who was there, who existed, who will be remembered today. i'm not one of those people. i'm one of the never-was. i'm the cigarette-lender. i'm the guy who makes you laugh a laugh that means nothing. and i'm drowning in an ocean of visible people. i'm a jelly fish in this ocean of sharks. i sting and i amuse but i'm invisible, and i'm forgettable and my being here is certainly not regrettable, but it's certainly not memorable. and i'm one of the never-was, i'm one of the might-as-well-not-have-come. i'm the guy standing in the corner, blocking your view of the bare walls.

shine

i've never really been comfortable in my body. in high school, i was too little. i thought that i needed to be bigger so that i could be that guy, that guy who could make girls feel safe just by putting his arm around them. now i'm too big, and i think that if i was smaller i could be that guy who you would feel safe with because i'm too small to hurt you. and i'm sitting still but my skin is crawling around the room, because it doesn't feel comfortable on me. and my soul wasn't meant to be housed in this lackluster casing. my soul is weighed down with two hundred and twenty pounds of oppression and the day that i die will be the day that my soul gets its wings and that will be the day when you see my real smile, instead of this one that makes my face crinkle up like pug dog with poor eyesight. and my nose is too big and my eyes are too small. but damn it, if you could see what's inside of me, it would make you smile too. so i'll smile my crinkly smile for now, because it's the only substitute i have for the real one inside that's so bright it would put any crest commercial to shame. and i think the only reason people don't cringe at my face, is because they see some small piece of that real smile, shining through.

jonah falls in love

it's almost the lonely hour again, but it seems like lately, the lonely hour grows longer each day. and eventually the lonely hour will swallow the days like the loneliness swallowed me. i just can't understand how she can be so afraid that she's more comfortable in the belly of the beast. and if getting out of this whale alive means risking the pain, i'll light the match, because i carry the pain with me now and i'm still trapped in the beast, so the threat is hollow at best. unfortunately it takes two to tango and as many to escape, and she's reluctant to say the least. "leave without me, just go on ahead, i deserve to be trapped here forever." but she doesn't see that her misery is commensurate with my captivity. and i can't leave her behind, because she is my escape, and it takes two to tango, so i guess we'll just stay in the belly of the whale where it's dark and it's stale until she feels safe enough to leave.

summer in berlin

and i told her about my dream, and i don't think she quite knew what to make of it, but it seems pretty clear that she doesn't dream about me. and i want a life with her so bad that it hurts. i used to think that we could only have a winter life, the kind where we stayed inside and watched movies and only went outside to smoke cigarettes in the rain. but she's more than just a winter girl, and i can see us having barbeques at our house and being normal. and i can see a time when the pain is gone. and i can see a little house by the beach with a window towards the ocean where we watch the sunsets, lying in bed with just a sheet to cover us and a fan to keep us cool. and i can see us being happy, and i can see her feeling safe. and i can see us taking trips to paris and berlin. and berlin is so beautiful in the summertime, it doesn't get dark until just before midnight. and we'll run through the city at 23:59 and everyone will see our love shining through the sunset sky, and they will know what it is to burn with this love that has overcome the misery