Friday, December 16, 2011

busted proximity and the after effects

My heart sunk
yet opened
I stood and watched
your proximity
the world spinning
around me
your face the center
from where
centripetal energy
stems from
anger like that
not in years
face red
had to get away
from the walls
of my vivid imagination
closing in
all around me
your proximity
and breathing
that the negative space
between you was
less than average
in such an average
place such
as that
far too close
standing to a
smiling face
making my guts lurch
your proximity
to that girl
face isnt

Monday, December 5, 2011


like heroes
as pirates
courage racing
through hearts
weathered skin
squinted eyes
of open seas
flashes of lighting
beneath the
surface of smiles
electric touches
from strong
hands that
never break
hands made
to fix things
like broken hearts
and broken limbs
sharing secrets
with breaths
left hanging
in the negative space
of the centimeters
two pairs of lips
weaving stories
past and present
like fingertips
that whisper
into floating
bottles barely
carrying messages
frozen moments
to unwritten
night time
like graveyards
a moon
and stars
from here to
where tides
kiss the shores
where pirate girls
ride sea horses
to heroes
and awaiting
to unlock
an internal savage
speaking love notes
always in Latin
the romance
language of
and lost
a map to the
end of all things
where love

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

not away or towards

there are mysteries you cannot solve
knots so entangled you cannot begin to unravel the intricacies
like memories of limbs
like words whispered into the mouths of lovers
licked like the sweetest of liquid lollipops
what the heart desires goes unexplained
when someone’s eyes take root inside you
leaving seeds to grow and develop
climbing your skin like clinging vines
reinforcing you with green chainmail
binding your limbs
and cutting the circulation to your legs
leaving you paralyzed and numb
unable to run - not away or towards
when you feel you have lived so many lifetimes
trying to get back to him
only left to see him holding the hand of that girl
or the one before that
feels like your heart being torn out from the roots, discarded
a compost pile of all the messy feelings
staining an innately romantic nature
there are questions that should not be asked
words to remain silent by a finger over lips pressed harder than a gentle touch
hushed into the background of the room
left to mingle awkwardly with the white noise
overhearing phrases when joined together
make believe stories you keep telling yourself are true
something sort of like true love
muttering incoherent
mumbling seems so much safer
shouting brings with it reverberation and echoes
when all you want is a soft lullaby
his hand on the lower of your back
steering you not away or towards
but here and now with kissed promises indefinite

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

rainbow sprinkle fireworks

it was a thin line of white
that was - the moon reflected
against familiar smiles
against the whites surrounding
coffee colored eyes
sore throats from
talking too much and too quickly
sharing the messages of
soulmate cliches
as i fall into that
well worn spot on the couch
seems to fit me so well
candy hearts drip from fingertips
delivering the same messages
again to a mailbox
with another name upon it
smearing pastel colors
into abstract art
before anyone notices I was even there
leaving me with that dreamlike state
left on repeat
like a favorite movie
looping music box theme songs
leopard print flashbacks
with glittered eye lids fluttering
seeing every angle of your face
even as i look away
to freeze time as i once used to
lips that speak words
that never leave me
that dig into my essence and explode
within me like
rainbow sprinkle fireworks
because you always remind me
what delicious means

Sunday, September 25, 2011

My own devices

This night is restless
The television is not able to remove me
From the uneasiness of my mind
With only a small handful of stars
To keep me company
I draw pictures in the negative space of things
Awaiting patiently yet again for the shift.
The pathways are converging
Always bringing with them change and decisions to be made
My back is aching from inadequate sleep
Knowing better than to fall in and out of dreams
In places where a deep sleep can never be found
This night is restless
It brings with it depth of thought that should never occur on a Sunday
Silent rooms amplified by the white noise of a fan
Buzzing worries around my brain
A centrifuge of my hopes and dreams confused
Into emotional indigestion.
I would crawl into my bed and pull the blanket of my childhood
Over my head but I cannot be left to my own devices tonight

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

imagined scenery

there is something elusive about that comfortable sunday morning
drinking coffee in quiet contemplation and shared laziness
fresh picked flowers to match growing smiles
sunshine falling through the windows
to illuminate the dance party of a million tiny particles of dust
arms wrapped around waists, as dishes are rinsed
a kiss on the back of her neck
to remind her she is still that same girl in his now creased eyes
i can remember what it was like to watch that play out,
drawing quietly on the floor by the sliding glass door where the light was best
but perhaps thats just a scene i created in dreams
either way, the memory smells of newspaper and fresh mowed grass
breaking my heart
and kissing it better all at once
like an emotional band aid, keeping frayed edges in place.


there are whispers on the lips of the universe
saying... sit still
embracing patience and calm
they are the arms that wrap around me
when the vastness of the ocean brings spiritual comfort
the worst of me does not quiet them
does not frighten them away with too many thoughts, emotions, words...
always with too many words
there are songs being sung just under audible tones
vibrations traveling along pathways to ears opening
straining to listen
to make out the meaning of intersecting roads
to make out what is elusive in the passing of time
there are hopes that go unspoken
they linger in the doorways of penetrating glances
the longing within the touch of a hand
that quickly pulls away
reminding me of the cyclical nature of things
as i await the pendulum to swing me back to start

Thursday, August 25, 2011


I sat on the stoop
The silence closed in
Enveloped me like a security blanket
Allowing me to hear the night time sounds
Usually muffled by daytime whitenoise-makers
Train whistles
There always seem to be train whistles
And planes roaring overhead
Outside my front door
Underneath only one single star
Bright enough to survive the smog
Of Los Angeles

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

intermission please

....she was tired
of feeling small
like a speck of sand
like a punctuation mark in a thousand page book
nothing wrong with feeling grand
with adventure
with remembering there is a fire somewhere in there
still kindling
even the smallest flame
to light the eyes that have fallen asleep
even in daylight
to illuminate a smile once so bright
incapable of apologizing now
now that she can see again
now that life has been placed back into her
she tried to stay invisible
to herself
...but she was so tired of the aching emptiness
she wrote it all down
all the x,y and z's
tore it into a thousand pieces
to throw away
tiny colors, like confetti.

Monday, August 15, 2011


that which survives on no water
no air
deep down in the root of
in her nature
the craving has been awoken
food does nothing
to satisfy her
cigarettes, alcohol, caffeine,
do not appease the need
curling up into her veins
seeping through skin
pheremones diffused by
grapefruit and vanilla perfumes
faint traces of dirt on his shirt
act like a catalyst
she feels posessed
by some kind of devlish thing
back arched
and fighting
she will never be stronger than he is
she has succumbed
to feeling greedy
to feeding hungrily
upon the air he breathes
when he exhales into her
the yearnings
twist hold round her wrists
and wrap round pony tails
into squriming words
she has become insatiable

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

always untitled

my words wont come to me
they sit on my tongue
dissolve into escaping breaths
i tend to look diagonally away
to the bottom left corner
of the page that is you
underlining phrases
writing notes in the margins
dog earring the moments i want to remember
to read again and again
at a later date
archiving moments of whispers
cataloging the tastes and the smells of you
furiously writing word after word
to remember all the different ways your hands feel
upon my easily bruised flesh
more delicate than a thick skin should be
removing my innate modesty from the equation
this one time
trying not to let open eyes betray me
as they tend to do
just a moment of eye contact can melt this candy shell
revealing the secrets i keep caged up in my chest
where the poems are born from
where a muse can carve their initials into me
to embrace the nature of the adventure
speaking words through fingertips again
disappearing into the sound of your heartbeat
where my ear touches your chest to hear the ocean.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

from the inside of things

the stone has been thrown
creating a cascade of ripples
travelling down the spines of things
like a foot walking over your future grave
from seconds to minutes
from hours to days
seemingly ordinary choices
pave the way for extraordinary moments
shivers of deja vu double takes
feeling perhaps for once this is the correct place to be
or have you already lived this before
a different you with the same face
reciting the script that was written within
the subconcious autobiographies
of inner dialogues
never ceasing
when i think about the magic of simplicity
breathing in
breathing out
it makes my insides shake and quiver
wishing for once to have that blissful ignorance
but the fire seems so bright
the cold air so crisp
the water is so smooth to my touch
the air thick with so many moments happening around us
like falshbulbs popping and popping
reminding us not to forget
it is all so unstable
today i live the creation of choices made decades ago
as our days continue to tumble down hills
dissolving into the ocean where we came from
waiting for inspiration
absolution and enlightenment
but settling for what passes as passing the time
searching for lightning bolts in starry night skies

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

untitled 6

there was a moment i lost myself
crawled into your lips where words are born
forgot my name
travelled outside myself to watch
the way you move
the way you move me
kisses more like devouring
as if you had swallowed my ability to inhale
asphyxiation from mouth upon mouth
stolen breaths
trying to drink them back in
in greedy gulps
feeling like absinthe hallucinations
wrapping, twisting round teeth
stolen sighs
gluttonous moments of ragged abandon
where hands explore with scratching
where eye contact can freeze time
slow motion exhales
stolen moments
when the room goes silent
and the background noise fades away
leaving nothing but the heat rising

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Untitled 5

glimpses of starry sky ceilings
behind shoulders and smiles
half moon nightlights creating hazy halos
within blurred vision
toes leisurely lounging out convertible walls
pointing at the sky
like compasses
leading towards nowhere in particular
strange comfortability in my skin
the words etched onto my back
burn against lips and teeth
in slow motion replays
looping behind half closed eyes
maybe a trick of my imagination
except for the handprints still left behind on my skin
slowly developing
like photographic evidence
of reciprocated desires
taken from spilled words to actions

Monday, July 18, 2011

imagination vs. reality

imaginations can create perfection
characters based on the written pages
and stories passed down through generations
when even a tragic hero can find redemption
romantic notions do not interest me today
tall tales and far seas are the locations where
your stories are unfolding
but today i am thinking of your reality
im thinking of sunburns and tan lines
want to fall asleep to see if I will awaken
when deep sleep patterns turn to breathing, turn to snoring
turn to morning breath that i will ignore
to be inside your proximity
never mind the sweat that is sticking my face to you
never mind that reflection this time
today i am thinking that my imperfect body will be just fine
thinking about savoring this moment,
its taste, smell and touch
drowning in eyes and smiles and laughter
being swallowed whole by this one second
without gloss and without glamour
some connections dont allow for us to stammer with our words
waiting around for appropriate times
to say appropriate things
insecurities can create hesitance
a moment's waiting is a moment lost
its spark disappeared to something you may have wanted
if you had the guts to take it
today i am thinking of your reality
without a thought regarding pretense or preconceived notions
thinking what is special is whats living and breathing
in my eyes right now
when the lights are left on
and i dont look away to the floor.


the sign off the side of the road
made me think of how she used wait until the summer
when the peaches were in season
only able to eat a few mouthfuls
her stomach half gone
battle scars from war after war with
so many armies of cancer
with instant iced tea to wash it down
out of green plastic drinking glasses
always with a straw
bent over the edge
waiting for my grandfather to bring her glass
after glass after glass of that instant ice tea
watching me with young smiling eyes
the eyes my father and I both share
trapped inside the body of an old woman
listening to Sweet Caroline on the record player
I'd leave her home, hair smelling of stale cigarettes,
and flowery perfume
even just a hug good bye
seemed to be more than her body could manage
so fragile
even in the arms of a child
tastes like a memory
a home now hazy but always held close

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

untitled 4.

I am restless
tossing and turning
awake again
in that bed I haven’t slept in for so long
reclaimed and reawakened
by my senses
feeling smooth like scotch
feeling a bit dark and twisty
something sort of sordid
tasting of black licorice
laced with the hotness of cinnamon candies
reacquainting myself with the deviant inside
yet feeling like I have the blues
those slippery soulful songs that sound best on vinyl
those notes that linger like long strands of cigarette smoke
twisting round my fingers
when I try to avoid eye contact
I am restless
thinking of skin on skin
in dark rooms
barely illuminated by the sky outside
allowing instinct to guide hands
mouths, eyes
to take their time with things
feeling sort of kittenish
feeling sweet like sugar
melting from the heat of potential energies
sticky licking lollipops
with cotton candy eyelashes
watching from the inside
making mental pictures
saved for a later day

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

broken pieces

she fell to pieces
shattered like glass dropped from the roof of skyscrapers
her remains were like diamonds reflecting atop black asphalt
symbols of forgotten promises
reminders of disappointment
the sound her heart made echoed through cities
wrapping round light posts
uprooting trees
breaking the windows of the happy homes
she fell to pieces
from the pedestal she built upon a slanted and cracked foundation
scattered and shuffled, thrown away in all directions
a disparaged house of cards
worthless paper doll parts
folded and torn
vacant eyes that stare at nothing
but never look away
he squeezed to tightly her fragile heart
she fell to pieces

Monday, July 11, 2011

untitled 3

A day spent in silence
sand shifts through my toes
listening to the universe speak to me
its promises
through crashing waves
stood ankle deep in the ocean
for the first time in a long time
sunshine warms my skin
seeps golden inside my pores
caresses the concerns of the day off of tired feet
cuts the ties to painful memories
allowing them to float away like lost balloons
turning to colored specs as they disappear into nothing
allowed the inner most parts of me to run away
find themselves
like a child would when noone seems to understand
explored all my different facets
different faces
destroyed all the previous molds that encapsulated me
my empty body awaited patiently
while the door to myself stayed unlocked
open to vulnerability
and finally my soul has come back to me

Wednesday, July 6, 2011


Gold falls upon the leaves of the canyon
turning the sky a color unknown to any other place in the world
just as the sun begins to tease the mountains with a long awaited kiss
wrapping round her curves towards the salty air
Summer awakens her senses
damp concrete scents mingle with freshly watered lawns to create
the most intoxicating perfumes
traces of chlorine in long tangled hair and bare feet on hot pavement
music is played loudly from car windows
driving west to escape the heat that causes ripples in vision
The Santa Ana Winds whisper secrets in her ears
love notes and promises of
tangled limbs and stolen embraces
navigated by touch and intuition, paths learned years ago
She has cast a secret spell upon those who have loved her
awaiting their return

Monday, July 4, 2011

Untitled 2

Hot July afternoons
Falling through dreams
Drinking in air conditioned sighs
Subconciously drawing pictures
With index fingers
Upon suntanned skin
Thoughts turn to tasting lips
And letting him breathe me in
A grown woman now
No longer afraid of the strong
Hands of men
Tucking insecurities behind my ear
Aware of their presence but
Choosing my own adventure this time around.
He has stolen my secret smile
From frozen Polaroid moments
And Hidden it within his pocket
To keep it safe for me

Thursday, June 30, 2011

untitled 1

today is full of daydreams
time travelling back to sitting on the floor being fooled in strip cardgames
that turn to spinning bottles
first handful of touches to lay the foundations for my romantic notions
shy girl awkwardness
alleviated by the days of wine coolers and teenage smoking
today is full of distraction
literary moments of painted words swirling round my brain like cartoon stars
that fall spontaneously
begging for wishing like girls beg for kisses with half closed eyes
awaiting the salty taste of lips
stolen breaths exhaling into vaguely remembered embraces coming into focus

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

For my friend.

some love transcends
I heard her voice travel to the heavens
with despair immeasurable
unable to say goodbye
wrapping sadness round and round her heart
like wringing hands
unable to rest
reminding me that settling for
anything less
would never make this trip worthwhile
he lives in the clear watery eyes of the boys left behind
to hold her hand
they sound older, more grown, more like men
today than they did yesterday
with vacant stares in the direction of nowhere
recalling childhood moments
1980s yellowed memories like
aged, unable to stick to the album
well worn from the years of pride and
stories that keep pouring
like the wine in that special glass
they keep
with his fingerprints on it.

Monday, June 13, 2011


i have said good bye
to the way your voice cracked with sighs
to the way my clothes smelled of you when i left your apartment late at night,
knowing you were listening to the clicking of my boots on the pavement as i walked away
i have retired the smile that only belonged to you
no one else can claim it
wrapped up neatly in a box clearly labeled as not to forget
i have stopped listening to the music that enraptured you
thinking that songs about drinking will start taking on a different kind of meaning to me now
i have said good bye
to that rumbling sense of broken dreams
the fear that fulfillment was something only found in little girl schemes
wish i could wrap my arms around you one more time to whisper thanks
but my heart cant handle such brash acts of outward emotion
usually translates to anger or frustration
better to walk away and say good bye
to the two of us
when the pictures of us still make me smile.

starting over

Its all so delicate
the transfer of energy from moment to moment
I feel perched upon a precipice of change
yet unable to see into the distance
there should be more time
time for Polaroid photos
long walks on damp grass
finding the hand that fits perfectly in mine
remembering how it feels to discover a new hobby
fear has bound my wings too long
limiting potential heights
my stomach lurches when I contemplate how quickly it could all be stolen away
upon the haphazard chance of an accident
illness, a moment of forgetting to look both ways
I have dreams of perfect comfort
sitting beside someone
on a couch, holding hands, perfectly wrapped within each other
inhaling and exhaling
a life in unison,
spent in celebration of every molecule that make up the color of our eyes
I could drown within
I have cut all tethers that bind me to this unhappy place
to catch a wind of enlightenment
to carry me over mountains to where the water crashes
to let my feet bury themselves within the sea foam
like I did as a child
I hear whispers on the lips of the universe
begging me to keep my eyes open
to see the truths in what confounds me
to write my fears upon a blank slate
sent upon the waves in bottles
only to find their way to another shore.

Monday, May 23, 2011


slipped the memory
what a body pressed close can feel like
the moment of stolen breaths between two mouths
just before they jump from the cliff
to fall into the depths of each other
sordidly sweet
tasting lips for the first time
when you cannot get close enough
when the passion devours the need for neatness
when hands evolve to become explorers
to study the topography
of two bodies
twisting up like tangled trees
reaching branches to the heavens
slipped the memory
what anticipation can taste like
sometimes more delicious than satisfaction
longing calls out from the pit of my stomach
to seek out the fingertips
that read through touch
like a master sculptor setting bronze aflame
looking upon his masterpiece and finding perfection
amongst the imperfect
eyes that fall upon the flesh unhidden
eyes that seek out another across crowded rooms
eyes that speak without words
reaching in to take the heart into the palm of a hand
to coax the dead to live again

Friday, April 1, 2011

If you asked

i would give it a shot
if you asked me to crawl inside your heart
look around to see if it suited me
i would store away the excess baggage, labelling each box nice and neatly
"Do not Open; Keep sealed forever"
i would coerce your inner child to share what he is scared of
read stories and draw pictures see what makes him smile inside
see what makes you feel safe again
i would play all your favorite games
I would turn on your night light
i would wrap my arms around your inner demons
remind them they are beautiful regardless
feed the monsters beneath your bed so they were satisfied
i would make my place beside your nightmares
i would face the worst you had to offer and still stay until morning
i would tuck you in and weave dreams of calmness to surround your sleep
i would sew together the pieces of your broken heart with my own heartstrings
patch you up with pieces from the fabric of me
sing you lovesongs from outside your window
if you asked me to crawl inside your heart
I would give it a shot

Friday, March 18, 2011

love note

my insides feel exposed
like electric lines that buzz and hum
dangling suspended from crosses in the sky
waiting for the shock that comes with a touch
thinking you can see through thin skin
thinking it used to be much thicker then
thinking you must see that heart
crudely tattooed on my sleeve
a memory of teenage feelings
when fingers interlace between our two hands
intricate tangles of words i am always too afraid to say
thinking you may ink my shades of gray into
black and white guidelines i dont want to adhere to
thinking you may have something to say
thinking all this negative space is defeaning
when i want to dissolve into your arms
when i want to reach up and kiss your lips
reinact a faded photograph discarded
in the back of a box of memories
sneaking back to remind me
your shoulders were built for me to cry on
our faces fit perfectly together like halves of wholes
thinking we are two puzzles combined
thinking my romantic notions are dangerous
thinking i'll keep quiet still
where its safe

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

some girls

some girls are afraid of spiders
slippery grossness or the dark sides of things that hide within corners
some girls are bothered by noises at midnight
invisible claws tapping at windows drawn by imaginations running amuck
some girls sleep with baseball bats by their front door
because they've seen a man's eyes turn to crazy like a light switch

some girls look for pink things
for fur lined memories and giggles whispered into ears
some girls know what it feels like to be protected
safe and warm within strong arms, heavy heartbeats reverberating
some girls wait for doors to be opened for them graciously
because they know what its like to be treated like a princess

some girls grew up tougher
feeling more comfortable in oversized flannels and boots
some girls have difficulty loving out loud
even when their hearts will burst out of their chests with feelings
some girls' vulnerability transforms to defensives and then to silence
afraid to know for certain that the boy doesnt love her back

Thursday, March 10, 2011

i dont..unless...

i dont want ordinary,
unless the ordinary is a perfect afternoon laying in bed, drinking each others words in with our coffee - stirred with just the right amount of sweet and creamy...
i dont want nice,
unless nice is the way i am kissed at the point where shoulder meets neck,
tasting the poetry of a gentle touch that just keeps rolling like shivers down my spine...
i dont want calm,
unless the calm can be found in the pools of my eyes, who's waters are laying undisturbed from the turbulance and stormy clouds that have plagued previous journeys into them...
i dont want good,
unless its the good thats filled with mornings and nights and all the hours in between, spoken first and last into each others entwined limbs, lips and hearts..

Monday, March 7, 2011

watching the colors wash out

something is speaking to me

from the faces to the fences of the kids with lost dreams
written on the walls of concrete
rolling down the street to mingle with gutter water rainbows
illuminated like lit petroleum

there is a hollowness that lingers

born and bred within a society obese with the excesses
undernourished with soul
there are no more moments of enlightenment for the complacent
the spark fades to some sad shade of gray

something is speaking to me

it scratches at my voice and urges me to scream honesty
the disappointed are multiplying
there are no heroes living here atop mountains watching over us
left to primitive devices

there is a hollowness that lingers

this dissipation of collective energy is sucking the color out
leaving landscapes caked with indifference
obsolete flashbulbs once bursting like pops of adrenaline
now just awaiting imagination to burn out

Tuesday, February 8, 2011


could the electricity dissipate
would it negate the necessity of your proximity
should you unplug from the amplifier now
could i ever forget the pressure of your hand
would it remove the fact my breath escapes at a simple touch
should you put hands in pockets just in case
could you inhale that spot between shoulder and neck
would you be reminded of where lips once were
should you turn away and breath the sweet air of freedom
could you tell me what became of the hidden love notes between two hearts
would they just evaporate into dust at the passage of time
should they be torn apart forever
could you ignite my longing
would you light a fire inside emptiness
should you extinguish such smoldering moments
could you
would you
should you

before the alarm clock

it is always that way
in dreams
your face was hazy
all i remember
clearly was the shape of your lips
a few words uttered
writing feverishly in a journal
unable to decipher my own words
aware of this moment
moreso than any other
changing everything
dropping away like seconds
counted down
and disappearing into
yesterdays moments
my knees knew before i did
there was something being born
within the negative space between us
as if you were there all along
sometimes i look away
it is always that way in dreams
breathless hope
knowing someone has come
to change your life

Monday, January 24, 2011

Vday - a quick rant...

only a few weeks away
the most dreaded day of the year
v day
the day where delivery after delivery of gorgeous bouquets drop down
upon the desks of the females
like bombs leaving my heart in shambles
roses red
violets blue
daisy chains
notes saying i love you
they cross my desk,
as if on parade
another reminder
-as if i needed another reminder-
of the circumstances with which my last love was found
five years come full circle
the irony astounds
my poetry isnt as bitter this time around
maybe i'm growing

Tuesday, January 18, 2011


he told me that he feels all the time
feeling feelings 24/7, he said,
and thats probably why his words usually cut right through
and his voice reminds me of something beautiful that
i cant quite put my finger on.

subconscious ramblings of limbo

This subconscious is a vicious one
Letting scents of him, linger upon skin
Soaking into my dreamscapes
Reminding me while sleeping of the nights events
Awakening as if a year had not passed
I swung my arm over a phantom body evaporating
Just as my eyes were open enough
For the sleep to be wiped away
For the slate to be wiped clean
Not wanting to wipe away the feelings of those lips
When it felt so good to be enveloped in sparks again
Setting fire to the complacency of my heart
Reminding me that I have the potential again to
Light my insides up
Like swallowed fireflies
Like exploding firecrackers
This subconscious is a vicious one
Letting memories of laughter drift into my ears
Bittersweet knowledge that laughter can turn to tears
Without even a change in my facial expression
Or a crack in my voice
Just reset my broken heart again and again
Playing on repeat like a favorite record
Skipping and scratching where it has warped from being
Left out in the weather
Forgotten again
This subconscious is vicious one
killing me with my own self

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Untitled 2.

broken thoughts
blow like kisses
caught upon the wind of fallen leaves
crackling to dust beneath the feet of the unobservant
circling round the ankles like a devoted pet
yet ignored
words set in ink
a phrase set in stone
to remind my spine of tougher burdens than this
you can set a course for my heart
tolls paid with brief moments of intoxication
some battle wounds give even tough girls
something to cry about
wanting a secret or two to be whispered into my lips
that dreamy kind
that knocks my knees out
leaving me to depend on that hand at the base of my back
leading somewhere beyond
this repetitive game of emotional tug of war
I'll cut myself open
if it means the birds will escape