Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Winter

wandered aimlessly
through cold asphalt streets
echoes resounding
with each step from my feet
stars as my hat
oil slick rainbows below
inhaling the smog forming
pictures in the sky
like puffy clouds
would in other towns less
wrought with cars and chaos
always collecting keys from
temporary domiciles
this transitional lifestyle
is the science of
vacant brain sleeping
while passed out on a couch
still wearing my shoes
from the previous evening
listening to the same television show
through yesterdays eye liner
on repeat in my dreams
turning to nightmares as well
alarm clock repetition
"the plot never changes"
can describe so many things
wonder what going home means
to me now
in a city I've always known
abandoned me somehow
my heart broke in this place
called it a loss
family is scattered
haven't felt safe in what seems like
two lifetimes
of liquor soaked timelines
blown away cigarette ashes
i'm finding some solace in places surprising
truths are now different
and I have given up analyzing
what my gut says is true
i'm always the glue
but sometimes its nice to get
tucked into bed too






Thursday, November 15, 2012

teetering backwards


I walked barefoot once
upon a checkerboard floor
but splintered my foot upon
a twisting creaking staircase
that did not lead anywhere
only to run quickly,
backwards, away
I saw reflections of a memory
leaving fingerprints invisibly
leftover stickiness from
gluing back these pieces of me
I like clinging to you
in that space where shoulder
and heartbeat meet
to brush cheeks
I walked barefoot once
through forest floors
feet wet with moss and mud
ignoring scratches on bare arms
trying to read smeared black ink
as I draw a thousand tiny hearts
upon my skin to your lips
words sung to ears with whispers
cannot find a substitute
lyrical pathways of where I lay
the dirt feels better than cold sheets
most nights anyway
I like the secrecy the night brings
standing right at the edge
when you can finally see stars

Monday, November 5, 2012

Coming to my senses



It is something familiar
like sitting in the front yard of the house I grew up in
or the way my mom would wake me up with an orange juice in the morning
(never have been a morning person)
that comfortable silence that I used to look for
within all the arms that never quite held me correctly
is now wrapped around me
like a quiet symphony
singing softly like a whisper in my ear from a memory


It is something familiar

like a smell I can’t place but inhaling brings me back 
travel in a time machine to a specific place and moment that changed it all 
(probably another time I ran away)
that moment when a hand pulled my hair aside
when a touch to my shoulder brought earthquakes 

feelings I was not prepared for 
that gutted my stomach retreating to my own insecurities 
like a broken record

It is something familiar 

like a dream I had, but faded into subconscious memories 
a faceless figure holding me and reminding me that there are those who can love 
(a voice that can soothe the beast in me) 
a soft spoken phrase cuts like an arrow to the heart
pierces and infects me with a sweet dizzy spell from a fuzzy thinking head 

a man that gives me the spins by just glancing my way 
and for a second he can see me, 
without the walls that surround