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