Danger: Words may be larger than they appear.

Dear future girlfriend, Know, that I am a little odd, I walk around with my chest open and you can read whats on my heart, My mind is a bit harder to make sense of, I still don't know how I do it most days, Know, that I will love you, Ridiculously, but not religiously, Religions make people do bad things, Not that I don't want to do bad things with you, Know, that when I get scared there isn't much sense involved, The logic switch, gets flipped, Off, I run in the real world to keep genetics from making me run from things that matter, Know, that I wear t-shirts with my favorite things on them, Smiles like they belong there, And only remove my hat for the rain, Unless asked very nicely.

Stripes, Stripes on shirts. Stripes on Couches. Stripes on your soul that are bruises from the bars. Livin' on nothing but pure color, You work and work and work, And all we give each other are half-assed smiles and half smiling asses. Find yourself some stripes, to break the black and white up a bit. - Keynan Bailey

I am a midnight shaman, Talking with the gods and putting it to page, Walking through the streets, I have words on speed dial and hope in my pocket, I forget where I put it sometimes, The night time grabs me, Tells me to slow down, Make these words spinning around make sense, To help others that are awake, Because their dreams won't let them go, Backpack full of raindance, Because sometimes losing those tears to the rain, Is what we need.

It was February 14th, 2009, You helped me move back home, Because I had to, Because I thought we had Love with a capital 'L', You unpacked half my stuff with me, I still mumble when I can't find something, "Where did that infernal woman put it!" My dick is still mad there was no sex that night, I knew then, somewhere in my toetips, That we were finally through, It took you a month to fuck me again, This time through a phone line cluttered with cliches, You use people like paper towels, Please, tattoo that somewhere, To warn the rest of the poet geeks away from your smile, We would've had kids named "Kara T." and "Jude O.", Because your last name was Chopp and we were fun like that, Fuck you, and not like I used to, Thats all I have to say, I trusted you, daughter of the emperor of washington state democrats, With my everything, You left me, For a truck-driving republican asshole, Fuck you, and not like I used to.