bring this out of me.

make it naked. let me know. these thoughts these sounds make everything else fail. nothing stands when we stare. when we touch. your skin is so perfect, so secret. i have to taste you. i need it. eyes like an angel. spell me out with your eyes. you do. you can. i am so a slave to your eyes and your name. occupy my mind make me scream so silently. your lips make me sweat. so soft, so perfect. so familiar. worlds crumble when you all but blink your eyes. so strong, so bright. so hopeful. i need to breath your air. to feel your breath. and to need your feel. you make me want kneel when i talk. constantly. so bare. so naked. so simple. have me. as much or aslittle as you feel. hair so golden, so perfect. the way it falls infront of your eyes, casting shadows, the way your eyes sparkle like secrets. like little children hiding behind white fences, one eye, out, bare, staring, waiting. you love my words. i would give you the english language, over and again, if you would let me. if you would lend me your time, lend me your eyes. so perfect. i was looking at you. i always will. you are my angel. love me.

Damn I'll Bring Them To Their Knees...

i started a new habit last week. everymorning. when i wake up. i sit down and write 4 pages. for full lined pages. of absolutely nothing. whatever comes to my brian. i assumed it would be just another deadend way to occupy alittle more time in my day. but its become a monster. i find myself writing 4 or 5 pages, 2 or 3 times in day. 6am when i wake up, or 5 am when i go to bed. its become such a release, such a force. everything i think. i've realized i think more than i thought i thought. its good. its becoming. i think i'll write a book one day. or atleast a magazine editorial. about shoes, or hair, or the best way to kill a man undetected in under 3 moves. ah-oh. that only happened once. i look forward to this again. i'm glad i've started writing again. i'm glad i've started thinking again. it was a cold winter. a very somber winter. i think the ice is melting around my brain and around my hands. things are looking up. i find the more i think the more cynical i become about well, everything. just because well everything probably sucks. this is definatly not the best of times in this world. yeh we are blessed. with what. internet and cell phones and public transit. go fuck yourself. our world is falling apart around us. all that these blessings do for us is priorities the necessities for us, in a, well, less than first standing. so fuck it. whats so great. the only thing anyone has left, is the people around them. thats it. the rest is falling. fast. its all gonna burn, so start lighting her up now i guess. mayhbe thats alittle too dismal. i think my next entry will be on the joys of pure maple syrup and why its fun to fly kytes. yippie fucker!

Cross This

here i am. world. again. its been a while. its been sometime. fuck this romance. theres nothing left to love. kiss these bloody knuckles and cut knees. up or down. go fuck yourself. please. if you don't mind. thankyou. what a polite boy. BANG. welcome back jakes. kill em all and let god sort em out. kill em all and don't tell your parents.

cover up