WONDERLEMON

rite The sign must have been

Knocked down

I will take blame for the negligence

For getting this lost

Take mistakes with a nod and a grin

And return that ball gown  

By your midnight dance

I apologize to any eye-line I crossed

Swear I’m usually careful

Too careful for one to scorn

 Me over such accidental things

The scenery was simply too distracting

Misplaced the bull

So there are only horns behind what I sing

Along to before retracting

There are not enough words

To explain the cycle

Certainly it feels over, done

And then comes

The reappearance of this fear

These excessive dead ends are absurd

Although my heart is too full

I must go back to square one

To find out how I keep ending up here

This is the entire
fucking world. I mean,
the world’s all here.
The great escapers.
Residents and red-eye
frequent flyers for skyscrapers.
The silver screen?
Sure. But may I suggest the west…
Too busy living it out our way.
Because we’re not just inside an attraction.
Can’t stop, can’t rest.
A city written with sarcastic retractions.
Welcome. To the universe.
Hate it or fucking stay.

Try solutions, solve. 

If it works, wonderful.

If it doesn’t, move on. 

Refusal is not nearly as tactical.

Honey, try it out. Nothing’s magical. 

Pro and Con.

Don’t weigh your scull

facts will dissolve

so don’t crawl. 

Everyone’s better than that,

particularly carrying a heavy heart.

Problems devour if you let them,

petals always stitched to a stem.

Engage. Observe. Participate all art.

Mindfulness can be exact. 

It’s not chemical. 

It was probably us all along, all

of this time pouting towards the universe.

So naive. So spiteful it’s criminal. 

Prophesizing our lives for the far worse.  

Witnessing their luck triggers trite envy

…that noticeable trait wished unnoticed…

I am, we are, the young arch enemy. 

“Living Large” or not living as promised.

Each generation, riddled with misfits. 

Honey, to tell the truth, it’s not just you. 

In fact, the rolling credits prove that it’s 

not the narcissists who’re the chosen few. 

We will always be in this together.

Us all along, mastering what we’re here for. 

On some of the sweeter,

quieter moments of the night.

The stars whisper to me, 

Only to get louder. Stronger

because a skyscraper is approaching.

Most of my time fights

for attention, gluttony. For lucky. 

Contentment visits, consequences stay longer. 

Is it “Don’t” or “Do”?

Either carry back something true. 

Though those thoughts should discontinue. 

The sweeter times are new.

Morning returned quiet skies blue.

To believe in every syllable 

you breathe as I weep

could be my only miracle 

ever. After getting to sleep

thanks to you. Dreaming’s possible.

My body belongs to your name.

Love gets lost, frame by frame. 

Here lies the peroxide I became.

That hatred clings on to me

despite what you say or see…

No promises in “We” finding lovely. 

Forced to write it all down, scribbling the madness.

About a pennies worth of personal preference. 

Honest interest, or they could and should not care less. 

The twiddling of thumbs in suspense

from both sides starving for sense

and awareness for an up and coming mess. 

Will there be…

one around the bend?

Is there a degree…

like a temperature by the deep end?

I’ve got to catch my breath.  

So…I document 

nights spent

in hell.

A chance to excel?

Well, thanks to some extent. 

All the love can Be

You’ll See

Forgotten in a Moment: at

Well, infact

Any Moment (With No) Notice

No Goodbye kiss

Finding that Heart has Burst

Acquired Ravenous Thirst

A Lapse so terribly Mistaken

Mind When

Forever Theirs: every Second for

There’s your Cure.

Yet still, Love can Skip

Beats: Slip

One’s Mind, all the time

I Rhyme:

Forget No Longer: it’s Tragic

It’s Sick

Absolutely devising a different Me,

one that one day they will be itching to See.

Find me in the Future carving my own tree,

Intellectualize it as I curtsy. 

Sorry, already am what you’ll Never Be. 

Flaunt those paint brushed, that Ominous Degree. 

Textbooks wont Justify Dignity in Free. 

A tedious tick

swirling the room sick.

Sanity, generally off the market

and you are your only suspect. 

Strength always shifts to so strenuous

and trust is simply outrageous.

Easily broken turns redundant.

Still, you “Can’t”

But…Can’t You? 

Unbearably trite, surprisingly true. 

That can be what’s promised. 

Misunderstandings, missteps

cannot be dismissed. 

This morning

the sun rose

and a cigarette went unfinished.

Summer cold stings without warning,

much like another prose.

Though it’s always been wished

for a difference.

Maybe a gunshot 

to preface 

the darker night.

That may make more ethical sense.

Let out a scream when not

to expect a stream of light.

Just to say

that today’s

smokeless.

So save up for the next mess. 

Some combat boot prints ruined the roses.

Petals sprinkled with dirt and destruction.

When convenient, the human heart closes.

Grinning at excuses and disfunction.

   Stilettos breaking bones in vanity,

   store fronts were not built for reflections.

   Just a drop of lost hope for sanity,

   Those painted on pouts.  Thoughtless inflections. 

Begging for beautiful, receiving rage.  

Not in disappointment, more like wonder.

A streetlight on love and greed takes the stage.

Please bask in melody, shut out thunder.

   I want to collect sunshine, share it all.

   with the obscured, the existential…

Easy?

Well nobody ever

claimed it would be.

However, surely it was never

even implied. 

So the anticipated 

outcome aside, 

what has been generated 

is another lonely generation.

Either too cold or in heat.

An adolescent nation

on repeat. 

Attempts

to let

go of contempt

fail. I never forget. 

Believing in better?

No one leaving?

Get life together.

Stinging

with everything

declining this clinging. 

Drench 

yourself in pesticides.

Although if (when) you need me…

I can meet you in my street-lit bench

and guide

the deserving to safety.

    A girl with the wound 

    open for anyone.

    Wilted too soon,

    and I crooned

    to reveal the sun.

    Then vibrations were forced into another tune. 

Lock

your vessel.

Expose the precious.

If you need a hand, you know it’s just a subway stop or a couple of blocks

away from wherever you fell. 

Always, true to trust.