bypassedwe loved eachother oncenow whenwe meet inpassing, wepretendblindnesswhen in truthI watch youwith the sameeyes thatlinger overflowers onthe side ofthe roadwith joy inyour beautyand sadnessthat I cannotstop to gatheryou to me
trustyoure afraid to believe in mebut Im not like the others Im not a promisetied to a tumbleweed but a weighted word that will stay where its dropped
vacantthey bothso fearedgoodbyethey neversaidhelloso they lived outthe long yearsaloneand died intheir bedsstill still stilldreamingof eachother
deardreams were cheapwhen we were youngwe could crumple them uplike miswritten love notesand throw them outto start againlazily plucking new onesfrom the rose-coloredfields of our insouciancebut now the days shortenroads once open are walled shutour feet turn in aimless circlesdreams become dearas one by onethey die beneathrealitys heavy bootsand none rise up toreplace them
tomorrowI love youbut with or without you the sun will riseI will breathe the sweet air of morningand I will know love again
faded polaroidsvoices echo downthe hall like playgroundmemories and schoolpictures with bad haircutsI listen to thoseindistinct murmursand stare into the past,remembering whenlife was as simpleas bologna sandwichesand names spelled inalphabet soupanimal crackers roaredin our hands untilwe bit off their headsand made them be quietsaltines and grape juiceserved as communionunder the big oak, Godwatching from the branchesin a world drawn inblack and white whenlove was love and wewerent allowed to hate(for fear of damnation)I can smell those days,taste the sweatysummer afternoonsrunning through dandelionsand crab grass, tattooingour hands with polk berriesmama making us scrubwith Lava soap, the bluestains stouter thanour stinging skin underits gray gritnight wind scrapedbranches against thewindow and my brotherran from his dark roomto the safety of sisterswith a double bedthree little bodiescrammed together in thesweltering heat, quietas mice so brother
ebblong did I hopeyoud learn tolove mebut as my bonessift into dust,I finally seesome thingscannot betaught
bad poetryI spend my daysdreamingof youand my heart wearsaway like sandon the shoreeach wave ofyour memorysteals a littlemoretheresvery little leftnowso, soon,there shouldbe nothingleft tohurt
WordlessIve learned toprotect myselffrom everyonebut you.They throw wordslike whetted knives,guilt like balancedcircus axes,tears like dropsof acid.From these, Ivelearned to retreatbehind walls of stone; eyesas cold as glacial icehide the bleeding.Yet from you, I findno escape, your silencea weapon I cannotdeflect.No matter how deeplyI burrow into myself,your muteness follows me,wraps around melike a shrouduntil I find myselfwithout defense,naked and helplessbefore lips longdead of words.
whisperyour voice shivers throughme like breezes shakingtime-worn boughs(and I cannotresist thatancient call)slide your whispersalong skin, let themsink deep as bonebreathe my name,a fervent, sighingpsalmand I will lift myface to your sun andunfurl my limbssinging like new leavesdancing in thewarm windsof spring
sleeptalkerhe heard memoan your namein the darknowI've lostyou both
FirstsI had sexfor the first timeon a SundaywhenOctober airate away the blindsand snake-lines of lightpressed inat undone corners.I remember less of you,and more of me,cocoonedin yellow sheetshow you kept mumblingquestions and Ilay there,still.The prodding,the jostle,are so much less vividthan the sensethat I was sheddingskinbecoming something,tighter,slimmer,more stream-lined.So that laterin the bathroom,I saw myself,the mirrortwisting my hipbonesintoshelves that I couldrest my elbows on.I was nineteenthen,so you,two times my weight,welding my bonesinto yours,made me feelten years less lonely.
misledyour memory leavesa bad taste in my mouthlike under ripe orangesor bleeding gumsI trusted youand you let me down(just as someone long agohad done to you)but I didnt learnthe same lessons you did -to mistrust all of mankind,that the world is out to get meI learned only thatI cant trustyou
devotedhelloyoull be glad to knowthat I hardly everthink of youanymoremy nights areno longer sleepless,my eyes red-rimmedand puffyIm over youat last, emptinessa tired relieffrom painyes, I dontmiss youanymore but my number hasnt changed if you ever need to reach me
abandonif Icouldlay myselfasidelikeclothesbefore abathI wouldbegin anewin a freshskinuntrainedto anyhand butyoursandyou couldteachmetolove withthe samerecklessjoywith whichI long tolive
zenithIm tooold todream offoreverall I wantnowis youone dayat atime
meant to bewhen I went outto find my fateI never expectedits faceto be yours
Promise MeI lie among cool sheetsin a dim afternoonlistening to rainfall, the soundsit makes tappingat the windows,dripping fromthe eaves,and I rememberanother afternoonwhen you lay herewith me in thequiet of eveningand whisperedpromises inmy hair asday slid intonight promises,though unkept,still beautiful inthe making.
unmappedi know not whereto begin. the staresare careless, the starscouldn't care less,and the world won't wait(to spin),while i catch my breath.there is no spacein air to take the skyfor a ride in the water,but i am stillenthralled byopportunities afforded -raptat each strange pathto be progressed.we write backward waysto overlay our inky feet,these prints too deep to keepreceipt of old transgression.of misplaced blessings.of miracles abandoned,now bloomingon the vine.you are wrapped arounda finger of flowersand colour speaks louder,but by natureevery gestureof your ghost-shapeis divine.
DisclaimerNotice:Relationshipsonly worktwo ways.Caution:Don't be so surethat I'm reallygood for you.Warning:I may becomemore attached to youthan we ever bargained for.
twisted sheetsI wait through a dreary morning;waiting for your pressed handover my shoulder.I don't expect you.I wanted you to arrive;for conversation and coffee.I need to tell you how unhealthy I am,how the only time I move is to goto the bathroom.I do not know how I refuse to shower.It has become a custom, a culture,a language, the art of resistancesince you've been absent.I miss your errant smiles. The wayyou hold a penny in your left handwhen you write with your right.I'm exhausted from lying in bed.The house seems unfamiliar.Used to be alive;feeling a sensation I canno longer describe.
Today's LetterI'm eating my tongueto shut me upand blackening my eyesto shut you outandgod,this bile tastes likeall the times youforgot I'mbreathing andbeatingandlisten,I'm warning youI've got this boxfull ofteeth andtales andthings I tend totip toe aroundwhen it comes--it always comesdown toyouand your planetaryeyes and the sweetinsides of yourlungs and the cloverson your lips andthen you justfightandfuckandfly.
For BurroughsJust once, I would like tounderstand completely -not just try.Know what it is to let go.I could accept,except...
GodIf thou dwells in equitable faith,he maketh peace abound.Thou shalt be a union to lord,as his presence is always around.Within the shadows cast,darkness would take the most."Let there be light!"Sayeth the holy ghost.Thee is equal, as all men are,forgiveness is granted forthwith.Father is the bringer of life,giving some the power to heal with.thou shalt never think of forcing,faith be not a command.though, would they still kneel down,if the messages were not sent?Thine belief rests upon the clouds,for thine faith dwells equitable.I shalt be a union to lord,as to me, the reality is meetable.The shadow of the holy ghost,holds wings of such expanse.For faith is such a choosable path,we shalt not demand.
poetry won't change your mind.everyone knows hollywood plays favourites. everything must be cinematic and over-the-top. and we all know that histrionic duo everyone thinks belong together because oh, i don't know, maybe they're adorable when they make out. or something.we all see them. they're like that perfect western movie: the daring hero whisks the capable damsel off to onceuponatime land, and the jester (the fading character with little or no importance to the main plot) just sits there and takes it like the fool he's scripted to be.she's the one everyone wants; the one nobody can get. he's the bard, the cowboy, the knight in shining armour. she's the one to complete him; he could complete her. he's willling to change if she's willing to open her arms, her heart. from menageries, to theatres, to each other's cosy homes. now everyone, say awhhhh.she's reckless and daring: his ideal queen.
a lamentationsometimes there is the murmurof sadness in my hands. sometimesmy face is warmer than warm, andsometimes this does not extend to you,to where it ought to matter.sometimes i think i am too smallto take wind and water into my stride;sometimes i am the leaf that floats unbiddeninto your arms, the breath of breezefrom over the sea, come to carbonateyour blood with my memory. i am the taste of summer tart and sweeton a forgotten tongue left leagues behind,over oceans you could not wait to leave.there is nothing here for you. sometimes i forget i am not meantto love you. sometimes it is easierto put this into plain speech, to dustaway cobwebbed metaphors that cannotsay how much i loved you. i cannotremember the measure of my pain the miles have erased that but the blood will course againinto the open wound as the skygrows cold and the sun grows oldand we return to our faithful stationto wait fo
Salutations, Disaster, Kill Mehello,the world ends the dayyou forget who you arehello,the world endedwith world war iihello,the world will never endas long as we're kissinghello,you've got armageddonwritten all over your lips(let me lick the catastrophe clean)hello,i don't believe in greetingsor apocalypses or eternityhello,in world war nineteen,will you hold my hand?hello,you don't believe in propagandaor conspiracies or happy endingshello,you don't believe in sayingGOODBYE
evermorehe was awishunfulfilled,gonebefore she couldlearn the truthof himyet, stillhe lingerswithin her heart,a dreamuntestedthat will notdie