Running

My feet ache, and throb, and pulsate.
I can foresee, and envision the blisters
and the scabs.

My lungs are lined with gasoline
the burn is so intense that my peripheral vision
is closing-in and darkening.

With each step I take
the problem is further and further behind...
ever there, existent.

melodramatic, needy, boring, ass, crazy, give cause to walk on glass, stop whatever you're taking before it's on to the next one, snoring, overly sensitive, unaware... all I wanted was you.

Should I worry that when this is over I'll have nothing to write about?

Mountebank

Reel me in again,
I'm sure to fall for this illusion.
I don't understand how to play-
the motive,
the end game,
nor why you'd choose to do this to me.
Methodical, meticulous, mountebank.

Incredible

Your words are less than hot air.
Gaseous.
Helium would hold more weight.
Only good to get a rise.
High pitched- a squeal.
Laughable.
Impossible to take serious,
Incredible.

Roy G Biv

Color!

Vibrant blue, red, orange, flame.

This heat is intoxication

on display.

Movement, entrenched in sound.
Eccentric is too small a word.
No need for inhibition,
though the inhibited are plain to see.

It has been said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
I would submit that this generation would say: to be lusted after is the sincerest form of flattery.

1.000.111.101.01.111

Feel free to speak to me
Your words
Are binary
You will never know passion
Or color
Or art
Or what it means to me to be a man

To Free a Bird

Free Bird,
I thought I knew,
but I had no idea.
I felt some assurance
in your sweetness
but I'm bereft.
This sense of deja vu
is cutting
and makes me sick.
You wouldn't be there
at the end of a long, difficult day-
not unless it were your plan,
or your convenience,
or to dissuade
your own boredom.
How can I commit
to unending
non-commitment?
You are pretty though,
and with my eyes closed.
Your colors are a siren,
"Come close and confide,
but never touch or feel."
Thank you for your glimpse
of sweetness
Free Bird.