SightlessI looked for youfor a long time.In crowds, onbuses, at bustlingfootball games,I sought.I combed the personals,scoured the internet, turned oversome rocks.I crawled throughdingy bars, sat aloneon mall benches,and even pretendedto find religion.My heart leaptwhen I thoughtId found you (but I was wrong)and then againand again.But I didnt find you,and, finally, myaging heartbegan to contractinto stone,the cooling lavaof wild, futilehopes unmet.I sit nowin a quiet placeand weep amidmy dead dreamsfrom eyes goneblind withsearching.
WordlessIve learned toprotect myselffrom everyonebut you.They throw wordslike whetted knives,guilt like balanced circus axes,tears like dropsof acid.From these, Ivelearned to retreat behind 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.
soulfulif eyes mirrorthe soul, yoursis a brightblue shiningclean, cloudlessskiesfields of cornflowersdeep breaths onfrosty morningsfathomless depthsof soft seasthat I will swiminto tomorrow
woethere are days when the worldseems coldwhen every dooris closedand every windowopen but toosmall for egressonce I couldturn to find himsmiling overmy shouldernow I turn in empty airdevoidof warmthor expectationthere are dayswhen the worldseems cold
burgeonI opened myselfbefore you like ablossom to the sunand you fellupon me like a blind torrentsoon spentleaving me broken and bruisedas a tulip in asudden stormdestroyed inits newness by the pouringrain
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
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 shorten roads once open are walled shutour feet turn in aimless circlesdreams become dearas one by onethey die beneath realitys heavy bootsand none rise up toreplace them
unadulteratedi thought i wanted honesty(until you gave it to me)then i realized that truth (the real unvarnished kind) is all sharp edges like samurai swords and whet-stoned knivesthe cuts are clean (but, god, theyre deep)so the next time i desire naked truthsheath your righteous tonguesoften, whitewash, equivocateand when i ask if you love me (and you say yes)i can pretend a little longer that its true
rawtake back your pretty love wordstuck themunder yourtonguekiss me until my lips bloomwith bruisesscrape me rawwith yourblistering skinand scratchthis itch untilit bleeds
WailJerked awake by dreams,I lie in the dark and listento the long, deep wailof a passing train, itsmourning disappearinginto tomorrow.I turn back into my blanketsand wonder where its going,rushing through the cold,black night, its voice sofrantic and needful.Its call echoes throughthe silence and beckonsme to chase it as Irealize the frantic need is mine.
FittingI tried to tell him I was leaving (again).But I couldnt find the words (again).So Ill stay here and eat my just desserts (again).
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
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 sweaty summer afternoonsrunning through dan
seasonalI.cold days remind me of youII.you wouldrub my freezing fingers betweenyour big handsand smileyour eyes shininglike a window of blue skyamong dark clouds -a promise of springas new blossomsshiver in the wind,I remember frigidmornings andyour yelp as Ipoked my cold noseinto your backhow you turned to meand we disappearedbeneath blankets, our bodies creating theirown moist heat, wrappedin the languageof summerI loved you, drawn to your burning warmth, to the calm rhythm of your breathing,as irresistibly as gravity calls to earththe falling leavesof autumnIII.si
the dance of Timeat dawn, Time met me atthe threshold and tookme in his arms, and we twirledthrough gold-rimmed fieldsof bluebells and sunflowersthat smelled of peppermintand girl child dreams of knights straining under silverarmor upon white chargersthat never tired, and wespun until my youthdisappeared into thenoonday sunas childhood fell away,Time pulled me closer, andwe tripped through pink pajamaadolescence and first awkward kisses into sultry days ofred silk hungering for moon-washed nights and full grownlusts, instincts obeyed,breathless moans climaxingin cries of newborngenerations who fallin line behind
Pen and PaperI loved you,yetyouve written me off ascompletely asif Id neverexisted.
wordsthere are days when words are all I havewords sliding letter by letter from theend of a pencil, turning blank white paperinto pieces of me,pieces that can be packed awayand forgottenuntil theyre unearthed in dustyshoeboxes and yellowed notebookswhere someone will find mewhen the words are all thats left
starvationyou taste me sip me gulp me devour me only to find that you need more much more and I have somuch left to give you
DrinkI should never drink.The pain, hidden, stuffed in dark corners, takes on a life of its own and beginsto wander, devouring all in its path like a blind larvae, growing until it fills me.The venomous thing eats its way to the surface where it threatens to burst out and escape,leaving nothing but its skin behind like a lonely locust shell on a sycamore tree.No, I should never drink.
TestWell put itto the test.If one kiss leadsto anotherand kneesbegin tobuckle,then wellknow.
Broken PiecesShe finally leftonce and forever,but in breaking his grip,she tore herself in halfand walked away,trailing the piecesbehind her.
twilightI, too, onceblossomedin the greenfreshnessof springmy flesh asfirm and sweetas a ripe figbetweensure teethbut long daysof samenesshave curled unnoticedinto yearsand the driedparchment ofmy youthyellows intodustas I bowmy head in defeatbefore thesettingsun
I think you and I are kind of in the same place with some of our feelings and thoughts. You're in my brain Cindy!