emotions

from my grandpa’s bed, we crawled through the night

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

capture the critters that crawl through the night

wrap your head in emotions that help guide us through the flight of fleeting thoughts that create a sight

the only thing left to do is fight

fight for one another

against the other

who write off our reactions to a dead relationship with my brother

he was your keeper before we trapped him and i never expected him to stay in his desk

it was too small

school house walls were confining

learning defined, how wrong his nurtured soul was raised

we tried to be nice

throwing rice as you walked by in sunday’s best

we knew the rest of the story would lead to a fall from glory

the second story

where i looked out and contemplated the impact of impulsive decisions

i backed away

turned the page

decided it was better not to engage

with the spindly spiders catching everything we forgot to chase

from the floor, behind the lines of rage

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i swam through the pulsating plasma and made a final squish through the portal

*ballllooooop*

i adjusted my eyes and mustered the courage to stand under the weight of change

slightly erect

my hands sloshed glops of transition goop from the corners of every face orifice and crevice

my breaths were steady

everything that waddled before was unable to come, all the after dinner sins had to stay stationary

where i left them

this is my first trip

letting go

then, how can i still conjure the image of being destroyed by her tongue?

i was right

it was the last rung

that held me at the top while i reconciled with anger, and decided to move on forgiving insecurity

here

a place

i move more freely as the gel heats up, hardens, and falls away

sprinting to prove my transformation

i stop

sit

and realize it’s all for me

these byways and highways to new sensations and surroundings are what bring us in sight

of one another

to creature crawl on

so we can start new

from bed, goodbye

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i rattled off a ridiculous amount of rounds because your accusations were so verbose

not everyone who fucks with you is a bully

not every argument means you don’t agree fully

words have impact power and design and i must remind you to define that hyperbole that just slipped from your behind and in front of judging eyes getting to know me as they clear the first decade of lies

making their own assumptions

your frost bit gumption

may leave them questioning this diseased tree into their thirties when we can give them the name of the therapist that fucked you up by nodding and feeding your ego

here we go

let go

i’m not letting up the top of my cup is brushed off with kombucha bubbles cause of past troubles when my confidence lingered in the background of a stumbling 40 ounce eyed smiling guy fulfilling your dreams

you said he was getting old

so i skedaddled and fold now you want the charlie to unload another daring dance juggling knives and lives with disregard for those eyes

you can’t reel back the strength shown in tones when you flexed

i’m too fucking honest

what’s next

bleeding before people who cry “crazy” cause they can’t fathom unleashing their inhibitions without liquid and fire

i’m alone

you rinsed your mouth with his desire

can’t flip through the mire it’s your chance to retire that sad sung old song you string along when you don’t belong and need me to fall in line

i don’t believe it anymore

the beat’s a whore

i’m tipped and coming full boar

make you decide tonight if i sleep on the floor

i got a blanket

i can find the door

from bed, i miss your light

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

it’s not the skipping of rocks gliding and plopping into a lake too cold to swim in that brought me here

shivering in a vest i never wear

it’s yours

it’s not the drive through green thistle conifers hugging our travels that brought me here

gazing out the window past emotions filling the glove box

those are yours

it’s not the musty poof from the couch i drop on, sitting in a unlit room waiting for you to bring in our bags that brought me here

that’s your job

it’s not the shifting in a twin bed, creaking as i stir, wanting to spoon out the cure that brought me here

those nights are rehearsed

it’s not the sandwich lunches, served dinners, or bacon and eggs that brought me here

i usually eat alone

it’s not the late nights sitting with flames losing myself in sparks dancing on stick tip games that brought me here

you stoked the fire

it’s not you

grade school, high school too, claims

it’s me

i wanted to discuss my attire, shift in the seat, lie on your love seat, roll on our mattress, wake and sustain life to see you glow across the cylindrical container where humans first realized

everything is illuminated

from the porch, seems like we’re getting somewhere

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

parallel lines creating friction

never intersecting

warmth intensifying to sparks sent spinning off

never working together to create a flame that’d send this whole thing ablaze

our lives run along these whips rising and falling creating cataclysmic rips in the seams of time allowing passages to form a new place to climb

and fall from

grace

limp and laid out on forest floors

serpentine shapes resting

waiting for the breath of inspiration to lift us once more

to crack what we can’t see

breaking the limits

similarities are in plain sight

*concept of seams inspired by chiftor four-sep.com

from my porch, let the senses guide you

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

– daydreaming at night

spacing out, a blurry eyed sight

cascading images registering hope in this plight

i manufactured emotions so you’d listen

– i lost my hearing

temporary amnesia to the love we’re searing

mismatched emotions we’re fearing

discovered so you’d see

– eyes gouged and left mangled

webs of sinew left tangled

hearts dangled

destroyed so you’d feel

– skin rubbed before dawn

after a feigned angry-morning yawn

i walked across your lawn

so you’d know how i smelled

– pinched nose in a rubber room

cemetery glances, climbing in a tomb

i close the door on impending doom

and licked the casket to see how you taste

– my tongue is red and raw

your lost song strummed, i see and saw

bouncing in rhythm, i start to unthaw

– recognize my ability to see me in you

the future

from my porch, what do you want?

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

if you like this, can you tell me why? for those who enjoy my words, i see you. i give you voices and personalities from a single round picture – letting me know you’re there. our experience are different – our emotions the same. we share a common bond on this undulating plane; in our world created in this outer-space place, zeroes and ones translating a blank face, a virtual place, where we talk to ourselves. not a single voice, no, not alone, a series of our own beings spliced into other beating pieces to this glued and framed puzzle. are we that confined? blinded by the design our future holds?

yah, so i want to know why you choose to read my thoughts. i used to not say i care, in fact, i deceived us that i didn’t.

i do.

from bed, filling the void – a bit crass

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

frustration fills the void where the desire to fuck normally lives

a bit crass

i’ll dial it back

i’m generally gentle with the words i use to guide you around the manic moments that dip to the downside while describing boxcars hanging from cliffs that don’t exist with passengers scurrying about creating the illusion that this is all real

that i care

you visit

i’m in my underwear, scratching and moving about in slouched motions, languid and limp

uncaring

hoping you’ll take what you see back to my family, one less limb to hang ourselves on, and wishes were something i gave up long ago when you could have just stuck with your first lie

the truth became your second

the one that destroyed any hopes of reconciliation before you left

i was right

it was agreed upon that night we criss-crossed our fingers and promised to push pass desires that drench other dinner going deadbeat dickheads

i warned you against my best

i held my own

i became

something greater than that empty vacuum with a cord too short to reach her room

leave it alone

the mess you helped create when your selfish intentions were strewn across a melting floor with trap doors all labeled ‘what for?’

and i couldn’t answer

see you on the other side

where the frustrations don’t apply

and i’m free to fuck

without a void

nothing to avoid

filling and refueling

whole being sensation

connect

pushing and pulling

gentle now, i forgot, i’ll whisper softly

‘let’s stay locked’

from the porch, drifting through your apartment

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i saw the question lines on your face

caution

symptoms of stranded times we can’t erase

or replace

travesties counted on a number line

waiting

disheveled and wet

a mess

coming home

walking in the door umbrella still erect slish slosh shoes mark where you’ve been plopping on a conditioned couch catching the moisture transfer from skin to clothes to cloth to a running nose joining the water logged face drops mixing with salt destined to put you to sleep

you sit

unrequited emotions

love

understood

you struggle off your clinging coat

winter hat removed

leaving knotted hair chaos covering your wrinkled lines lingering with each whimper recognizing loss

it’s over

your eyes close

only to open with shivering arms clutching the only one you have left

you’ll stay here

searching

for answers you understand

but can’t commit to

falling sideways you feel the weight

and fall asleep

from my porch, family stood above all

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

toxic conversations swing wildly around in ill tempered rooms where insecurity wanders wildly diverting our emotions to a response jerked to high knee kick ears closed eyes wide and nothing building in a surprise of where we can’t fathom the possibility that we aren’t able to connect the dots of rhythm leaving your pounding heart realization points filtering away the trust of balcony peering

can i trust you?

you’d have to open wide while i gash flesh and rip intestines from surprised organs hand over hand falling to the floor and you laugh, or cry, at least understand it’s a momentary glimpse into something other than them

the others

i see, sniff, and bite at disingenuously dangled desires designed to deteriorate

everything around them so their tethered tightened whitened and worn out soul can stand above the bloody mess declaring supremacy

i can stop smiling

guilt