already i feel it
fall away
on the outside;
or, rather,
the need 
to call it
outside, other
than myself
for my skin
has melted away
joining
my true inside
with everything else

k and i
clear away
the teardrop tables
from the rug
in the living room
so we can play
while we take apple
on new year's eve

childish
things matter
less to me
than seemingly 
is so
as the adults say

starting to see
visuals
on my phone screen

shadows 
seem to me
striking

my face
feels like
a picasso

you just
can't capture
the trip;
i wish
we could,
but i can't

i have
to get my art
and hold it
within myself
long enough
until i can
give it to her

I used to think I needed fruit for inspiration and creativity. 
Now, tripping, I realize I have developed a creative system for my sober life. 

I like apple because it's a fair fruit.
On oranges, there's only up, until one big down.
On apples, there are ups and downs throughout. 

I think deeply about the need to spend time with others. 
How many others? Just one? Just your love.
Or more? How many then? Family too? And friends?
How many are needed to make a man happy? 
More than just himself?
As I sit here, having chosen to stay inside and trip,
on New Year's Eve,
instead of going to a concert with my friend Zach.

senses that feel
the foam edge
of pillow
where does
my hand meet
start and stop
stretching feet
yellow streaks
on white paper
the distinct drop
of water
from bath faucet
amid classical
playing
from the speakers
streaking
all colors
clear at once
then jumbled
eyes closed
off into anywhere

the pen rolls off
of the notepad
paper laying
on my lap
startling me
as the pen
rap-rap rolled
across paper
with the clip
rap tapping

it could be
anyone
me and you
you me
playing parts
'parently 
another
stepping in
unbeknownst
to the other

instead of homeless
we could say streetmore

scribbling 
i need some
inspiration 
to get started
so i just
start to scribble
and if i keep scribbling
words will eventually form

all these emotions
experienced on apple
show to me the heights
of what's possible 

you see
some things
that are real
and others
that aren't

convincing yourself
that it's just because
you're tripping

i look at things
a little more closely
when i have the time
noticing finer details
like small imperfections
in white paper
or the perforation
along the edge 

sometimes
my legs shrug
to say 'oh well'
just like
my shoulders do