Monday, July 12, 2010

numbness is failing me

he spoke to the insides of me
from the first embrace
when the flickers of something more than nothing were
crackling the synapses like firecrackers behind touching skin
even just fingertips
could not be extinguished beneath soft spring rains
fighting against the very nature of things
i vowed patience abundance
branded his name to the insides of me
burned into my heart like a sword slicing through fire
three quick slashes
forcing me to look across crowded patios
seeking the slight squint of a winking glance
finding acknowledgement
until i could find myself lost to him again and again
he touched the insides of me
thoroughly and deeply contributing to the stories within
offering the moments to fuel the metaphors
for more than a thousand days
offering the moments to fuel the dreams
of more than a thousand more nights
when the patience has become my enemy
he dulled the insides of me
to an ache only likened to that of a vast emptiness
yearning to be filled
an unquenchable thirst
waiting for springtime rains to fall again


cant lock up the anger
using a funnel to pour this liquid lava from my tongue
to entrap the sour taste in dark bottles
marked poison
hiding behind the facade of a smile
fooling myself
want to be better
want to be healthy
want to be happy
if i keep smiling eventually it may become contagious
so why is it so hard to convince myself
all the false laughs have left me
things have slowed
to a quiet moment
where i am shaking up those bottles of emotion
suspended animation of explosions
allowing my feeligns to seeth

Friday, July 9, 2010

time flies when you are getting older

if it was fifteen years ago,
i'd be donning steel toe boots
oversized hooded sweatshirt
lipstick six shades too dark
easier when i was a smoker
to maintain a tough exterior
you cant smile when you are taking a drag off a parliament light 100
it was easy to look cool
if it was fifteen years ago,
i'd be cursing too much
going out of my way to be as unlady-like as possible
probably sitting on a curb in a parking lot
watching the boys ride skateboards
drawing on my converse shoe
it was simpler when all i had to do was act uninterested
didnt even need a drink to feel ok in an crowd of artists
speaking the same language
sometimes more than not
sometimes you have to take the heels off
throw on some black eye liner
cross legged directly on the asphalt
discussing philosphy
sometimes you have to remember
who you were to be who you are
if it was fifteen years ago,
i wouldnt be home before midnight on a friday night.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

outside the cubicle

can you hear
telepathic words
sent from eyes to ears
bypassing lips
afraid to be given away
too lightly
fragile like bubbles
travelling from here to there
leaving nothing in the air between us
besides each another's breath
pulse beats
vibrate in the pupils of your eyes
trying not to look away this time
as i have done before
as calendar pages fell to the floor
again and again
trying to wallpaper
the cubicles that bind us
from being artists
time has stopped being an enemy
seems like an old friend
known and trusted
especially when
there is noone to translate
my sentence fragments
into feelings

Monday, July 5, 2010

interlude but confused

scraping lines
in the walls of my mind
pros and cons
a list a hundred days long
makes me want to scream
windows up in my car
lost all control
emotional overload
tears falling while driving
commuting is far too much time
left to my own devices
my thoughts are picking up on
radio waves causing static
removing me from my situation
for a moment
but not long enough
starting to wonder
what I would trade for a day
back where you are home

I can remember

you lived inside a tiny birdcage
I could hear the wings beating inside my chest
trying to fly away
I would sing to you and beg you to stay
but appeasing the wanderlust
is only temporary
bandaids to cover a fractured relationship
for one more day to dance with you
for one last nighttime conversation
for one more morning waking up beside you
you felt trapped inside a room
flying towards the glass window
seeking the outside world
watching you fly away
cage empty, with the door swaying
the music has stopped playing indefinitely
but sometimes when I think of you
I still hear you whistling