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.

I once loved a girl the same way I still love the rain, Because it sounds like nature is talking to you, This girl somehow convinced me that my dreams were something I should abandon, For money, for a more realistic success, This girl got me away from the only thing I have ever been good at, words, She obviously never paid attention to me before her, or during her, Because if she had, she would know, That words are the only thing I've got, Talking to people, I do, Well, Writing, I love, whether or not I do it as fantastic as I one day will, Writing is the greatest lover, she lets you be exactly who you are, I convinced myself that this girl could be my world, But she wasn't ready for that, Never would be, So while she runs full steam at her brick wall of mediocrity, I am running back to the rain, and the words, Because they are the only things that allow me to listen to myself, I will never let another woman own me the way she did, I can still love someone ...

I'm at work, Blonde Haired, Blue Eyed Kid, Comes in, My age, "I'd like the five dollar footlong buffalo chicken," Already expecting something I cannot give him, "Can't do that, the owner said we can't," "Oh, he must be a jew," He chuckles to himself after it slides out of his mouth like its truth, My world shudders, Fists clench, Smile, collapses, I spent the rest of my time with him shocked, Grasping for a retort, Trying not to throttle him with my fists and some knowledge, I wish I had said something because I am still shaking, From the fear of how easy the words passed through him, I am angry I stayed quiet, But my glares at him gave him an idea of it, I should have spiked his sandwich into the ground, Should have refused to serve a racist, He took up two tables, One for him, One for his sweatshirt, I almost said "No wonder the Jews seem stingy when you take two of everything," I am mad at myself for ...

Which one of you motherfuckers did it? Who fed me this knowledge after midnight? Who made me write with the streetlights and the stars? When I finally can afford to move out of my moms house, Again, I am going to write on the walls of my new place, Even if I do not own it, Because the walls are the only things that feel big enough in my space, To even consider the possibility of harnessing my voice, I will write fluffy bunnies carrying candy in their scrunched up mouths on the ceiling, To wake up with a smile, I will write, Get your goddamn shine on, In the mirror, For those mornings where the world wants to tell me I am not this sexy, I will put my memories in several places, The happy ones will be in the kitchen because food and happiness add flavor to each other, The sad ones will be in the basement or the attic, Like a former lover that I can still go wallow in, The proud memories will be my toothpaste, Because I smile a lot, Writing on the walls will fee...