gregory collins

Regret can be your pet.
Our brains have a beautiful taste.
One more problem makes all the difference in the world.
Maybe i am only homesick if i don't want to be a runaway.
...

If life
is just a game
then i can dance
in the trees like a bird
...

The cracks and lines on my face
make me an easy man to read,
and it is relaxing
that i have never had to think before.
...

It's all right to come from your eyes
when you thought tomorrow was beyond our control
and yestrerday with all its mistakes and cares
is like watching a child eat their last meal
...

The sign of the cross a million times
and God apologizes for the mind inside my brain.
It says the hourglass fills in the Devil's skull.
...

Here and there
words of love
hide inside someone
and hope
...

Something is on my mind,
and it is a dream i planned out for you,
and i know it wasn't what you wanted.
But you must earn the ransom,
...

I could have been there down by the sea, with pockets
full of silence and a priceless smile between the legs.

Maybe like a smaller love song that begins to shed her dreams
...

The black of the night sky adores the paralysis of my
eyes. Like a mirror told me birds cannot reach where

there are no walls; Like i sometimes look for mushrooms
...

I haven't seen clouds lately, i wonder what must
be wrong. But not knowing where to go to sit

face to face with the sun, even if i am all alone
...

You have an innocent smile that touches my
shoulders. Vowels supported by darkness itself.

But i can can't see death pushing aside the
...

Into each others eyes, we listen to each other breathe.
The modern society: when the cell phone rings it is

mingled mournfully, and abortion is looked at like a cave drawing.
...

Like a flower with numb ankles, i cannot go a single
day without a drug or a drink. The tears itself, like

paper i could pin my hopes upon. The way the vines
...

To be afraid of death is bad luck to me, a fear
i expect no justice or mercy from. The fact that

my soul has twisted so much, i think the
...

Could there be a beach made of tears,
like music of snow thrown from the fingertips of a lady.
Then photographed
balancing on a sharpened knifeblade,
...

Forgetting beauty, will break you in half with
the right look, like light cauterizing darkness

and spinning my soul like a top on mirrors
...

'i had a lover's quarrel with the world'

epitaph of Robert Frost
...

My open hand holds a gift.
I made a small harp out of your hair;
the hair i sucked the rainwater out of that day.
The day i told you i would like
...

When light looks me straight in the eyes,
and says you are no son of mine:

and the years are not a healer, but hiding places.
...

Smell the clouds feet, a dingy waiting room for rain.
A useless pasttime. Catch snowflakes in your head,

the same day comes every day of the year. Nothing
...