Sometimes...

...I feel so tired:

of certain expectations

of certain words

of certain someones...

I'm done trying to change things and be part of the "crowd", so stop expecting me to just bend to your "so so sorry's" and "let's be friends again". 

I'M NOT HERE FOR YOU TO MAKE A FOOL OF ME AGAIN.

No matter how many times you try and deny the part you played in all that ridiculous stuff that happened... I know what really went down. If you've got a problem with me, say it to my face... I'd much rather hear it from you than someone else, days later. 

I've been thinking long and hard about things. Sometimes I miss you. Sometimes I really just want to punch you in the face. I will exchange compliments, but I can't promise to try and hang out with you. Because... I don't want to. 

So I'm done thinking about it. 

I'm just... done. 

the trees above me are gray and green

my back is down

pressed against the narrow concrete.

my head to one side

everything is superimposed 

at an awkward angle

and it's making my head hurt.

you make my head hurt.

why do you have to go?

stay please

remain in quiet refrain

listen to the stereo

and be happy

if only i see you for a while.

you make my head spin.

your pale thin arms hold me

like a spiders web. 

glistening in the dim light

you've got me trapped

i can't escape your eyes:

i cave. 

and when you're away

it makes my heart ache.

and when you're near

it makes my knees shake.

so come be with me now

we'll go nowhere

and we won't do anything

but that's all i need.

come be beside me.

with you i am free.

you're all i'll ever need.

Either the city disappeared, or I did.

Walking in the crowd 

in traffic pattern

on the right-side portion 

of decrepit sidewalk.

Bounding relentlessly,

bouncing elbows.

Through clouds 

of cigarette smoke.

Past blackberry calls.

Deflecting the beggars

and overgrown egos

all in one single stride.

I feel alone 

in the populated mass.

Either the city disappeared,

or I did.

Either way,

I'm not going back.

Back to the small-town

and endless first name basis.

Back to the picket fences

and rows of quaint houses.

Give me shattering skylines

composed of glass and steel

all in monotone by day,

a blinking rainbow by night.

I disappeared

in a crowd of thousands.

I'm dodging glances. 

Just try and pick me out.

Tracking

So we are chrome organisms

All shining brightly polished 

in the late light of this late night

You all use telephones

talk to machines, dial-tones

yellow pages stained with desperation

Held up on a platform

epitomize the norm

factory-manufactured

We are the prototypes

this was all just a test

they never got it right

Warm humid pollution

stains your aluminum lungs

you're used to the taste

Where are the birds?

They've flown, they've gone

done what you could never do

While you're trapped

tracking steps with satellites

Where'd you park the car?