Hide and seek


where did you go
Found you again


lost you again
where did you go


all usual spots

where did you go
where are now

Tired, and Don't want to play

I wonder if you're still watching
from a distance
from your distance
watching over
watching under
watching all I do
Taking notes
making lists
(No wait that's what I do)
Biding your time
wasting my thoughts
holding your ace
till the moment is perfect
or past
The past is lit up
Like Christmas lights in February
Wrong time
Not quite right
Still cold enough
But wrong

Is it wrong
All this worry
all this wonder
all these questions
over and over
and over
and over
Do you still see

Are you still
the stalker
You claim
Not to be

Ultimate Question

What is this life I have been given

What am I suppose to do

Is hiding under the couch mewling like a cat
one of my options

or must I join this things called the race

I sit in my head
screaming fuck, fuck, fuck at the world
my thoughts have terrets
And my body twitches in response

My eyes see
but my brain does not comprehend
what my ears tell me is true

Things just aren't that possible

Fuck, fuck, fuck

I don't know what's going on

It's this continual loop
of feeling omnipotent
then realizing
I haven't a fucking clue

But maybe that's what omnipotence is like

Sometimes I shake my head
To clear the cobwebs and flies

Only to have the world
upside down

If I don't know the meaning
does it make it meaningless

If I don't know the value
does it make it valueless

If I don't know anything
does that make me nothing

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck

Why do we continue doing what we do
why do we care
Is there really any point
in this dull world

If the less you know
the happier you are
mean that I know more than I think

But if I know what happy is
what then

I'm floating through this
Dark space of flotsam
looking for answer
to questions I don't even have


The poetic conversation that began it all

Mark Robinson
January 25 at 9:08pm
uve stopped making… i can see it… artists are a dying breed.. fix it

Jj Love
January 26 at 8:59pm
To create, one needs a muse, a source of inspiration. In the depths of hell there is no hope, much less visions capable of stimulating the inner genius the becomes the artist. My burning star… so far away, only the light from the past is seen, no heat, no energy. My prison holds me tight. The time for repairs is over.

Mark Robinson
January 26 at 9:48pm
even in hell, we remeber holden beach… even in the darkest of times we onky need to shine a light in a memory

Jj Love
January 30 at 8:39am
You speak of holden beach… I sit in NYC surrounded by an ocean of strangers. I look at the sea of faces but I do not see what I want. Holden beach does not exist, it is only a figment of my overactive imagination… as are you. I am blinded by light here, still I see nothing. Memories are pain… I'm a masochist

Mark Robinson
January 30 at 11:50am
i am a memory, yet i am still a here. does that make me a ghost, or are you the ghost? one thing is for sure… there is unfinished business…

Jj Love
January 30 at 3:56pm
I am a ghost, super imposed over this white world I inhabit, but the memories of ghosts… they belong to another realm. One in which the world dies from one single smile. I am slowly going insane not living but dying all the time and only present in the past. unfinished business will most likely kill me and end this existence. I may not want to live but I have others who need me.

Mark Robinson
January 30 at 7:54pm

Jj Love
January 31 at 9:01am
Yet… the fear of this poetic verse ending causes me pause. The snow falls, like a blanket over the land, even if it stops, we know it will return. If their was no promise of snow, the world becomes a less beautiful place and harder, for me, to live in. No matter if I am ghost, memory, or super imposed. Knowing the snow is there and returning… I continue to live for those moments.

Mark Robinson
January 31 at 4:10pm
there is no more snow, not in the usual sense anymore, one time when there was snow, there was freedom, there was wonder, and there was bueaty… but not anymore, now snow causes problems… and nothing else

Jj Love
January 31 at 10:20pm
Not true, snow can be very inspirational, problems can be very inspirational, I like the problems snow cause. Getting stuck in snow, getting so cold you start to tingle, shivering… the bodies reaction is interesting as it tries to re-understand the experience. Being stuck in hell one forgets how good it can feel.

Mark Robinson
February 1 at 12:15am
no… the snow is not wat it once was

Jj Love
February 1 at 12:24pm
It seems we have switched roles in the course of this conversation. I like talking to you. You are truly the only person who "gets" me. The fact that you continued this conversation is proof enough. If you only contacted me in order to be sure you still had me wrapped around your finger, rest assured you do. I want to be strong so I try to push you away, but I will always want. You do not need even ask. I don't want you to know that, because I know you well enough to know, once you know you have someone, you don't want them anymore. Regardless, I'm being truthful. Sorry if my truth is scary or not what you want to hear. Oscar Wilde said it best- "I can resist anything but temptation" and you are my only temptation. I feel the need to disappear for awhile.

Mark Robinson
February 1 at 3:26pm
entertangeled physics state that once two entities are entangled, they can never be dissentangled.. they can seperate, but are always one… poetic.. isnt it?

Jj Love
February 1 at 7:45pm
well Quantum Superposition tells us that everything exists in every point and place in time and space during every second until we decide where it is… including ourselves. So on some plain of existence the threads are very much still tangled and we as controllers of existence can decide where they… and we are. It is only perception that stops us.

Mark Robinson
February 1 at 8:17pm
not perception, only will…

Drunken letter to my ex that ended it all

Wanna see how long I can hold a cigarette to my arm
It;s not very long
I'm not like you with burns
But there are several small burns
on the underside of my arm
Is this the fucking person you remember
Im more fucked up now than ever before
One nice word from you
Might have stopped it, one nice thing
I like you art
You have pretty kids
the night is gorgeous
but maybe you were asleep
and maybe you were busy
and maybe you were ignoring me
cause I'm not
Not what…
I don't know
Maybe I'm a little drunk
Maybe I'm a little high
Maybe I'm missing you a little too much
Maybe I'll regret this in morning
Maybe I won't remember it in the morning
Maybe I should go fuck someone to try to forget what we had
Wait… already did that
I'm a fucking disaster
I know it
You know it
and While other people drunk dial
I drunk email
Would you have answered the phone
Probably not
I prayed to your god
that one you go to church for
That you would say something
Do something
To make me feel better
Then I gave up and started wishing for anyone
I'm my own hero
Not cause I wanna be
But cause no one is ever there when I need saving
Unfortunately I usually need saving from myself
Which makes it rather difficult
I'm sorry for whatever I did to you ever
My arm burns
and the room is spinning
I'm gonna go die now
really just pass out
I wanted to be mellodramatic there
I spelled that wrong
aren't I an entertaining friend to have
The only person who spell checks better when loopy
Than on normal days
Smiles everyone
Tomorrow is another fucked up day
Hope it's a good one for you


I would like to think you care
But I don't think you do
I think it's all a game to you
Playing with my head
Playing with my heart
Playing games to waste your time
Until you find something better to do
It's always the same
I give you what you want
I get nothing in return
You tell me you're making sacrifices
I see nothing that shows that fact
We go on this track
Me giving you what you want
Until you have it all
Then you walk away
Leaving me empty
And alone
to refill myself
To rebuild myself
Over and over
until you come back
To empty me out again

Mitch 2

To think I was worried about you
You and your bright eyes
Rosy Cheeks
And Cheating ways

To think I thought you were the victim
That you were hurt
And it was my fault
When you knew all along

To think I felt sorry for you
Considered ways of keeping you in my life
Keeping you in the family
When all along you were already gone

To think that I considered you faithful
One of the most honest I knew
Someone I wanted my kids to look up to
now I dont want them to talk to you at all

To think was something you were never very good at
Maybe that's why you didn't hide the evidence
Or maybe you wanted to get caught
Or maybe you are just a fucking idiot


Finding a way
To end this farce
Without hurting you
Was impossible

It's not that you're a bad lover
Or person for that matter
But when someone says
Leave me alone

Leave them the fuck alone

I hope
If nothing else
that you learn to listen

Because you would make a great husband
To someone who wanted to get married

And you would make a great father
To children that were yours

But you are terrible for me
And not in that great
Passionate, all consuming way

More of a…

I wanted to kill you regularly
Kind of way

You made me a terrible person
And I didn't make you any better

We make better friends than we do partners
I hope you can understand
And we can really be friends

But I know I will want to fuck you again


When I say love doesn't matter
It is because you are sublime
You are a power so intimidating
Your presence before me
Ceases all emotions from existing
and I just stare in awe

Love is too minimal a word
To describe what you are to me
You transcend all other thoughts
And become an overwhelming occupation
That I drown in

Do not pull away
I have learned to live in this ocean
This constant choking, gasping, lack of air
Means you are near
I await your consumption


My body is dedicated to you

From the emotional shit
To the tattooed skin

I dedicate this fucked up life to you

The ache in my brain
from thinking of you too much

The pain in my heart
Because it is an unrequited love

The soreness in my bones
from running away from you

The knot in my guts
From wanting you so badly

The right hip tattoo
From wanting to piss you off

The Broken heart tattoo
From refusing to forget you

The feather tattoo
From you drifting in and out of my life

The shorter hair
Because you wanted it long

The misery
Because you're not with me


And always

This body is dedicated to you
Because I am evidently not getting over you


Body Armor

Armor of cotton
I have protected myself
Deadened to emotions
I can survive


He strips Me bare
Down to my soul
Showing my vulnerability
Only to him


piece by piece
I begin to feel

Eager to unwrap me
He rips too much
no padding
no skin
Pain again

I move away
and begin
the mummification
of all my emotions


Moment of beauty
Flying into pink tinted sky
I land in a sunset
The sun bursting forth
Over the buildings
under the planes
I share the beauty with strangers
then the moment is gone
swept away with the tide of bodies
getting off the plane

Older stuff below

Funeral Dirge

I don't want the shiny wooden coffin
polished till the people who come see me can see their faces
Neither do I want the generic headstone
Flat and glossy imprinted by a machine
so it's perfect
Nothing else in my life has ever been perfect
Why should my death be any different
You say it's for the mourners
It's the last time I get to aggravate
Be the center of attention
Find a way to piss everyone off
I think I want a viking funeral
But I want the service to be in missouri
My funeral procession will go across half the country
Switching policemen at every stateline
Till they reach canada
Did I mention the boat will be moored in Nova Scotia
So a Mountie will escort me the rest of the way
I'll be sure to die in winter
So you will all be freezing
Oh and did I mention the hearse will be horse drawn?
At least you can warm your hands over the burning ship as it sets out to sea.

I think of rain
It is never the same, contantly changing
the same drop does not fall twice
Yet the clouds overhead are somewhat static,
moving together in harmony
letting go of all they’ve held
and though you are not with me
and we are miels apart
the same clouds will pass over your head
and the rain my be different
but the clouds are the same
and I still do not know how I feel

I'm amazed we woke up and weren't involved in a gruesome murder, torture session or ritual killings (Redone)

A fear of the sun not coming up
A fear of the night not ending
A need to know that things end
You can survive anything
As long as there is an ending
But what if the torture never ends

The tight spiral of fear in between my spine and my pelvis
With tendrils that reach out to my hips
Does not uncurl
As the fat gray light of morning
Squeezes through the blinds
It's still too dark at 7:09am
The sun has been stolen
Just as I feared

With my back pressed into the bed
I stare at the dark doorway
Waiting for something to come through at 3:33am
The slightest sound and I'm a startled rabbit
The visions of horror dance through my head
But it's only the cat

The spiral loosens with the air brakes
Whatever it is that inhabits my head
Watching the gray light turn brighter
The sun has not been stolen this night

I'm amazed we woke up and weren't involved in a gruesome murder, torture session or ritual killings

A fear of the sun not coming up
A fear of the night not ending
A need to know that things end
You can survive anything
As long as there is an ending
But what if the torture never ends

The tight spiral of fear in between my spine and my pelvis
With tendrils that reach out to my hips
Does not uncurl
As the fat gray light of morning
Squeezes through the blinds
It's still too dark at 7:09am
The sun has been stolen
Just as I feared

With my back pressed into the bed
I stare at the dark doorway
Waiting for something to come through at 3:33am
The slightest sound and I'm a startled rabbit
The visions of horror dance through my head
But it's only the cat

The spiral doesn't loosen till the kids are on the bus at 7:45am
They are safe from…
Whatever it is that inhabits my head
They are away from the danger and finally I can sleep
Curled up on the couch
Back pressed into the back
Watching the gray light turn brighter

The sun has not been stolen this night
There were not any gruesome murders
Here at least
I can live one more day
I can sleep one more day
To watch for the sun to rise
To be sure it ends and begins again

A Frankenstein lover
Recycled Thunder
And Herpes in a bag

Jareds libido
And a lizard suit for Bri

Fuck-faces Pain
Crying in the Rain
Teabag in a txt

You've been here
For going on 3 years
And you're the best sister I never had

Lesbian lovers
Or nympho Hunger
You're always exactly what I need

This poem for you rhymes
Which I don't do most the time
So fucking appreciate bitch!

I'll be here for you
No matter what you do
Even if you take the gorilla back…

… please?

Exploring without fear
I slip into the dark tunnel of trees
On the ground an image
I looked with hungry eyes but didn't touch
Mom didn't look like that
I sure didn't look like that
How beautiful
How free

Show me your and I'll show you mine
It was a favorite game
Only second to being a human race track
Playing doctor wasn't even considered
We played Nascar

The bus ride home was wonderful
I didn't know it was bad
Then the bus driver walked me inside
My parents never said a word to me
They put me in a private school the next year

Exploring with some fear
In the barn I found a book full of the images
All open

My brothers jigsaw puzzle had one
I stole the image that was complete
I hid it in my room
They knew it was me
Think my cousin told on me
My mother started telling me
That sex was awful and painful

Exploring with a lot of fear
My barbies could be naked
They could dance and show everyone
Their perfect bodies
My mother continued

Barely exploring
Ten years later
I would sneak porn mags into the bathroom
I would strip in the shower
I made sure to lock the door

Sex is painful
Sex is terrible
Sex will ruin your life
If you have sex I WILL know
Fear tactics

Not exploring at all

I had to make money
Do all dance students do this in college?
They were all at the club with me

I had to have money
That they didn't know about
I couldn't strip
Everyone would tell them
I found other ways
Out of town
I finally had enough to move

It's a good thing too
They kicked me out
Not because of my side jobs
Because of my boyfriend
Go figure
I am once again exploring without fear

Time has flown
But the memories have not
There has been no healing
Only careful cover-up
In a shallow grave
Close to the surface
Is everything

Salty tracks
Line your face
I taste them
As I assault you
With my tongue

Copper trails
Mar your thighs
It flakes off
As I rub against
With my body

White puddles
Collect on the floor
They dry under you
As I finish you off
With my hand

Black anger
Pools in my head
Releasing it on you
As I hate completely
With my heart

Missing seats next to me on both flights

Headphones on my ears

Stewardess says plane is full

Music makes the world a video

Can she see the other me

I want to cry

Or did I forget to get on the plane

Running from terminal to terminal

Where am I

I am lost in the sky

Walking in darkness
Unseen things watch

They follow as you move
Stop when you stop
Go when you go
Disappear when you look

But you can feel them
Breathing down your neck
Crawling up your spine
Nipping at your heels

Eventually they will get to you
And you will turn around
Back into hiding they go
Until another decides
to take a late night walk

I already love you
And I don't even know your name
All I know
Is that you look the way I need you to look

Your hot pink faux-hawk
Your mix matched clothing
You Black vinyl stacked boots with the silver clasps
I wish I could be you

'll never know your name
Where you live
Your age
Or your favorite sexual position

But I will love you for a few minutes
and immortalize you here

butterfly pictures on a windshield screen
Butterfly dead in grill of SUV

I lay prone
Drug and pain induced haze
I hear spoken words
That make no sense
As if spoken in another language
I Wait

The other world is skittering at my perifery
snippets of it come in and out
Four instead of three
Shorter instead of taller
Us instead of us

The real world
Or rather this world
Breaks through in a song
It must be Tuesday night
House is on

used cars have electrical fires

Red wires
blue wires
melted plastic
and smoke
the idea to save money
takes time
and space
you work
to fix your own mistake
i find myself
missing the bad habits
you lost
to be with me

Thoughts in an airport
I watch the people go buy


but the visual doesn't matter

can they chop wood?
fix a car?
paint a picture?

What can they do underneath their
expensive suits
shaggy beards
thick glasses
designer bags

Does their heart beat
for art
for love
for experience

In an airport everyone becomes

You realize just how many people
are in this world
when you


for hours
and hours
and hours


as they get on the planes
get off the planes
get on the planes
get off the plane
buy a snack
buy a trinket
buy a shirt
get on the plane
get off the plane

They become the same


sits down in front of you

suddenly he's a real person
Awkward at being alone
being watched by some girl with a computer

who's wondering
what he can do

under the ripped jeans
vintage T
and shaggy hair

And then he's gone

An Open Letter to the people who fucked me up

I'm talking to you…
You know who you are…
The one who fucked me and then fucked me up.
The one who screwed me the screwed with my head.
The one who raped me then raped my will.
The one who molested me then molested my thoughts.
The ones who pointed and laughed
The ones who jeered and teased

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words stab like daggers into my heart
I was raised to care what people think
And those two I called parents were the first to fuck me up.
"Sex is bad"
"Money is good"
"You must succeed…"

Succeed at what?

I am a phenomenal failure at life,
or so I'm told,
but who made up the game rules and guide lines?
Who decided what was right and wrong?
And why the fuck didn't I get a copy?

I am successful at failing, running away, avoiding, and non-commitment
I am succeeding, so I am OK… right?


"You have to have money to be a success.
a husband and a house,
well behaved children who get all straight a's
and a bright shiny car…"



That's not a reason.

"It's my reason, just do it."

I am 34 years old and ashamed of it
My problems are my own and I accept them
But I do not accept the future that they have laid out for me
The fuckers
The screwers
The molesters
The pointers
The laughers
The jeerers
And the teasers
I do not know how to succeed
Or why I even have to
And I certainly don't know what the future holds.
But I do know I don't have to listen to anyone but me.

Like a gift from heaven
My dove was in my dreams last night
Perfect as he has always been
We spoke of music and love
And I felt an intellectual happiness
Long forgotten in my cobwebbed mind
His hands fluttered like a forgotten butterfly set free
My stomach mimicked his hands
My heart beat a rhythm to the sound of his bass
And I was lifted away for a short moment

Memories skitter at the edge
Creeping toward me
Always at the edge
Always just in the periphery

Stalking me like a tiger
Hidden, but there
Wanting to see them
Tired of being persued

A knot, burning hot and cold
My stomach knows first
Why they are hidden
I don't want to remember

But I tend to forget that

People are too busy being something to bother being someone

I cut my finger
and as I watched the red grow from a drop to a trickle
I thought of all the little cuts I've had over time
Self-inflicted and otherwise
If I were to receive all of those cuts at the same time
I think it would kill me
I would rather suffer the death of a million tiny cuts
Than ever return to that place

Last night I dreamed of a penguin burning red like a lobster.
Lobsters and penguins…
Two animals that mate for life.

The sound of a thousand wings and the sky is black
A cold day made colder by the flutter breeze
Are they looking for food or waiting for snow?
Glorious snow, paint our world white
And create contrast with the night black birds

People I've seen with my disdainful eyes

A half-assed drag queen
A bulldog in a dress
A bulbous lamp precariously balanced on polka dot slants

A large slowly moving landmass
An ecstatic voice
an over bearing personality
and questionable sexuality

Bobble head yes mean agreeing with all things said
loud mouth hooligan, leader of finesse

Expectantly watching
considering who I am
Why isn’t she like us
Why doesn’t she
like us
staying the fuck away
from people

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