soggy mountaintops.

you tasted like a memory, a person i once knew,

you'd soon be far away from me and that made you blue,

you told me that you'd never leave me,

and this i knew was true.

and now you lay just beyond the mountains,

and i feel that it is my heart that grew.

i used to hide within myself when i was around you,

sometimes i would push you away.

but now i remember those green eyes that could never lie,

and i realize what i forgot to say.

you will have my heart forever,

and if forever isn't long enough,

you can take my heart with you to your grave,

i can leave the earth without it, i'm used to being brave.

you can tote it with you to the afterlife, keep it next to yours,

you can hide it in a closet, so no one will find it behind closed doors,

you can give it to someone else, just in case you can't find your way

and need directions to get home; it can be a form of pay.

you can plant it in the ground and let it grow at your feet,

you can use it as a cushion to pad an uncomfortable seat,

all of these things you can do to it,

you see, i just don't mind,

because i gave it to you to use,

so my love will never be too hard to find.

she had the eyes of her father and the heart of her mother.

she just threw all her memories up in the air.

while waiting for them to scatter,

she tied ribbons in her hair.

she shares her bed with strangers,

or so i've been told.

she said that over these many years, her body has withered, grown too cold.

far too frigid to spend the night alone,

she rested her hand in his,

weeping as his grip slowly crushed her bones.

the 69th day of the loneliest year of my life.

i look out the window and i just feel the same,

all i can do now is hope for the rain.

i'll pray that floods will overtake this city,

to wash away every cathedral i believed to be pretty,

thrashing through my memories in the most uncouth way,

giving me a chance to finally drown in all the ill-spoken words i say,

and when the storm finally departs,

i would be nowhere in sight. rescue squads would not look for me,

knowing that whatever happened to me was right,

aware that i let the water enter my lungs without even putting up a fight.

with no ears or mouth, her body talked for her.

i've been keeping so many secrets, and you've been making love to all my lies. you watch me from a distance, cherry-coated, candy-flavored brown eyes.

i keep dancing hand in hand with the man in the felt cap,

the man isn't homeless, he was just born like that.

grizzled in appearance, his beard sewn on crooked. a little candle he holds in one hand,

and a husky voice; he says, "look, kid.."

"i keep a diary that is buried under the only stone bridge in town. the local high schoolers go under that bridge to smoke reefer and burn the neighborhood down."

the kid says, "but mister, why are you telling me this?"

"i want you to go retrieve it, and if you do, you'll receive a kiss."

the boy turned away, thinking that this was all a joke,

but the man's kisses were made of silver, and as was his throat.

he held a 24k ring wrapped around his tonsils,

and the precious value of his digestive tract was enough to intiate thrills.

i followed the kid to the bridge that day, he had brought his rolling paper - planning on lighting up a jay.

"look kid, you're here. get the diary while you can, before the other kids in town retrieve it and receive their kiss from the man."

"but why do i need this diary, i mean, that man freaks me out."

"stop being such a faggot, if you don't get that diary, that man is going to pout. he may even kill himself, he seems so volatile. i hang out with him everyday - and realizing that took me awhile."

"who the hell are you?" the kid riddled at me.

"i'm exactly what you always wanted...and everything in between. my body is as slick as the grease you style your hair with, and my cheeks are worth framing - don't you like what you see?"

"yes, but i don't know why you and the old man want me. i am young, black, and poor - my cheeks are ashen. i live in the city and i have swollen feet. i might as well deal drugs, because drug dealers are the only people i can meet. i'm destined to a life of running the street."

"and that is exactly what makes you so neat. we want you to retrieve - soil this landmark."

he dug in as many places as he could,

and realized that each hole was empty - fuming with rage,

i kissed him on the cheek and burdens disappeared from his page. he no longer did drugs, he no longer lived in the city, his life became a whole lot better - nothing was shitty. he found himself laughing under a tree with little shade..

sitting there next to him was a replica of the old man - carved stiffly in jade.

if my body were cylinder.

if my body were a cylinder, i would be able to breathe.

i would no longer be suffocating under the grief of a tragic reprieve.

as the unexpected and expected met among these stars,

it felt as if these galaxies shined as bright as the very first day you held me in your arms.

but as the unexpected circled the expected, she came to realize that he was lacking eyes.

instead of glassy circles with pupils in the center, the expected had a soul, a soul of a repenter.

the unexpected was perplexed and unnerved by this realization,

the expected remained silent, watching with the most docile of intentions. the unexpected rejoiced and rallied around the expected, praising and loving him, making him feel respected.

the unexpected grew in size to match her overwhelming feelings, the unexpected grew so large that she bypassed many ceilings. her body hid the illuminations of the night sky, but she still whimpered to herself, sensing her feelings starting to die. the expected did not notice as the unexpected towered over him. the expected simply continued his routine, but wondered why the moon and stars were so dim.

the unexpected waited patiently, still letting herself shine bright. still trying to dominate the sky, even past midnight. but the expected slept through her beauty, the expected laid silent, unsure if this was right, unsure if the unexpected was truly a worthy sight. the expected felt guilty, viewing the situation with his soul, feeling atrocious for having not told the unexpected how he felt - he knew this would take its toll.

he decided to whisper every night during his sleep, whisper to the unexpected that it was his love that was not deep. it took many moons to pass, it took many suns to rise, until the unexpected woke one day and found that the expected had grown a pair of eyes.

with shock and astonishment, the unexpected said, "my goodness, you can see through your head!" the expected simply glanced at her and painfully swallowed his spit, finally saying, "i do not want you to shine. i want you to be dim. dimmer than these many stars. for me, you are unfit."

the unexpected backed away with very little grace, straining herself through forcing a small smile on her face. she backed away with her pride stolen and her face cut to a shred, she backed away because she secretly wished herself to be dead. she backed away while shaking, she backed away in pain. she backed away because she became aware that her many efforts were in vain.

and the unexpected returned slowly to the night sky. to this day, she is the dimmest star, so dark that you can't spot her with your eye. and the expected, well, he is among the rest. shining without hesitancy, believing that what he did was for the best.

in a world without triangles, we begin to feast for squares.

we just kept laughing until the lights went out.

as we watched the moon and looked over the water,

you just kept asking, "what do you want? what is it that you want?"

i thought it was foolish, but the answer seemed clear,

it was you that i wanted, your face seemed so dear.

but i still kept silent, hoping you would remain near.

the circles under my eyes just keep getting stronger, but all you want are squares because they pay attention to you longer.

"i am a victim of my own well-orchestrated downfall."

a predisposition to vomit.

These surroundings were so mellow that my feet grew into the ground,

The soil flooded my veins as my heart found a new sound,

Instead of beating every second, it played a story in reverse,

Starting with an old woman's death, it showed me photos of her hearse,

I was told about the day when her memory started to go,

I was told about the first day she dipped her fingers into snow,

I was told about the day when she was born to a careless mother,

A woman who didn't want her, who put her in the care of her brother,

I was told about the man who believed she was the most precious gift of all,

A young girl to call his own, whose hands were so delicate and small,

I was told about the man's life before she was conceived, and before she became an unexpected gift that he received,

His bitterness had led him to blind his mother's eyes,

Using his prized switchblade, he donned an intricate coat,

Silencing his mother's screams through holding his weapon at her throat,

Unable to see the world, his mother created her very own,

A palace made of crystal that had overgrown,

The mother stood so silently looking over the kingdom that day,

Watching her son from afar, but replacing his screams with what she'd want him to say,

"Oh my dear mother, I love you always, I am sorry for slicing your eyes, I just wanted you to see how much beauty you could find in lies."

The mother stood solemnly and thought awhile before replying,

"My dear son, I love this fantasy because I can never hear you crying."

His death was so silent because there was no one there to see,

His baby daughter had strangled him accidentally, but without any motives, the authorities declared it a mystery,

Now that I am one with the grass, my soul is finally free,

I finally knew the story; the baby girl was me.