i keep you safe
deep inside a padded room
behind triple bolt locked doors
swallowed the key long ago
trying to forget you are there
trying to forget that you care
trying to forget hearts laid bare
i keep you safe
deep within recessed memories
behind amnesiac methods
blocking out my reflection in your eye
with theivery
with caution
with closed eyes i hide behind myself
making excuses for feelings
for moments i am visualizing
for memories repressed
i keep you safe
where noone can harm us
where we can rest easy
where we are protected from ourselves
within a storybook moment
i lost myself to you
i keep you safe
upon a shelf marked DO NOT TOUCH
avoiding mishandling
avoiding mishaps
avoiding misunderstandings
waiting to take you out of the case
a doll waiting to embraced by a childs love
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
dream eaters
dream eaters
creeping stealth like down endless hallways
crawling in our inner ears
to burrow deep into the soul of things
chomping on those bits and pieces
to steal away hope
dream eaters
with sharp teeth clicking
waiting for that deepest kind of sleep
to twist our fears into realities
to hide away the brightness
swallowing our spirit hole
dream eaters
dancing upon a field of memories
picking and choosing
the bad from the worst of it
juggling insecurities
between them
while laughing upon the heart of things
dream eaters
wont allow us to wake up
to breath
to run
sending us to that scary place
again and again
creeping stealth like down endless hallways
crawling in our inner ears
to burrow deep into the soul of things
chomping on those bits and pieces
to steal away hope
dream eaters
with sharp teeth clicking
waiting for that deepest kind of sleep
to twist our fears into realities
to hide away the brightness
swallowing our spirit hole
dream eaters
dancing upon a field of memories
picking and choosing
the bad from the worst of it
juggling insecurities
between them
while laughing upon the heart of things
dream eaters
wont allow us to wake up
to breath
to run
sending us to that scary place
again and again
Sunday, May 9, 2010
ghost writer
the ghosts creep up on me
with their stories and their feelings and they pull at me
they whisper in my ears
thinking i may have forgotten the fear in the past
the ghosts sneak up on me
with new disguises and voices speaking codes
but i am learning to find them
stealth moving down the hallway of my heartbreaks
the ghosts try to stick band-aids upon wounds cut and recut
spilling invisible blood upon a newly mopped floor
the ghosts beckon me to walk beside them
revisit graves and dig up past mistakes
to lay out the bones and distinguish cause of death
the ghosts urge me to turn within and sit a spell
find a moment for self reflection
as they feed upon my ability to forget
with their stories and their feelings and they pull at me
they whisper in my ears
thinking i may have forgotten the fear in the past
the ghosts sneak up on me
with new disguises and voices speaking codes
but i am learning to find them
stealth moving down the hallway of my heartbreaks
the ghosts try to stick band-aids upon wounds cut and recut
spilling invisible blood upon a newly mopped floor
the ghosts beckon me to walk beside them
revisit graves and dig up past mistakes
to lay out the bones and distinguish cause of death
the ghosts urge me to turn within and sit a spell
find a moment for self reflection
as they feed upon my ability to forget
subjective conjecture
inexplicable emotional reactions
some days are like a serene pond
with floating candles in paper sailboats
some days are more like foil crunching between cavities
i wish i had the ability to read minds
i wish i didnt want to scream at the top of my lungs
then again,
guilt wrapped quiet moments
caught laughter in a split second of forgetfulness
i wish feeling ok didnt hurt too
living with purpose is something i am not accustomed to
loving without expectations is a lesson needing to be learned
i wish i could go on a vacation from my psyche
i wish i had the ability to forget
then again,
some moments should be written down
etched into wooden blocks titled for referencing
acceptance is subjective
as is time
some days are like a serene pond
with floating candles in paper sailboats
some days are more like foil crunching between cavities
i wish i had the ability to read minds
i wish i didnt want to scream at the top of my lungs
then again,
guilt wrapped quiet moments
caught laughter in a split second of forgetfulness
i wish feeling ok didnt hurt too
living with purpose is something i am not accustomed to
loving without expectations is a lesson needing to be learned
i wish i could go on a vacation from my psyche
i wish i had the ability to forget
then again,
some moments should be written down
etched into wooden blocks titled for referencing
acceptance is subjective
as is time
Thursday, May 6, 2010
flashbacks
falling into the
insides of things
flash bulb moments of
memories
walking outside
early morning
with squinting eyes
easier to see things clearly in
nighttime hours
wrapping themselves
round and round
slithering
snakeskins
reminds me of a
secret
rendezvous
splitting candy hearts in two,
one for me and
one for you
to take away with you
as a souvenir
unless memories are enough
to keep my image fresh in your mind
me,
I'll keep your photo locked away
inside tiny steel
hinged moment libraries
hidden in my heart
somewhere noone will look
feeling like
i understand how a junkie feels
missing the touch that
matches the fingerprints
left on my skin
for so many years
acting like some sort of
heroin
in my blood stream
refusing,
not allowing me
to forget
the moments have been recorded
tattooed onto the backs of our eyelids
insides of things
flash bulb moments of
memories
walking outside
early morning
with squinting eyes
easier to see things clearly in
nighttime hours
wrapping themselves
round and round
slithering
snakeskins
reminds me of a
secret
rendezvous
splitting candy hearts in two,
one for me and
one for you
to take away with you
as a souvenir
unless memories are enough
to keep my image fresh in your mind
me,
I'll keep your photo locked away
inside tiny steel
hinged moment libraries
hidden in my heart
somewhere noone will look
feeling like
i understand how a junkie feels
missing the touch that
matches the fingerprints
left on my skin
for so many years
acting like some sort of
heroin
in my blood stream
refusing,
not allowing me
to forget
the moments have been recorded
tattooed onto the backs of our eyelids
Monday, May 3, 2010
rewind
rewind me back to the beginning of that tape
before it was scratched
played over and over again
before technology passed me by
rewind me back to watch my image dance across a screen
unscratched, unblurred
youthful in my energy
rewind me back
to that moment where my face broke into a smile
when i lost my bearing and became unaware of myself
just reacting naturally
with laughter
and sparkling eyes
rewind me the beginning of that tape
before everything cracked
before things overwhelmed the ease
when i still held a bit of the magic in my hand
before it was scratched
played over and over again
before technology passed me by
rewind me back to watch my image dance across a screen
unscratched, unblurred
youthful in my energy
rewind me back
to that moment where my face broke into a smile
when i lost my bearing and became unaware of myself
just reacting naturally
with laughter
and sparkling eyes
rewind me the beginning of that tape
before everything cracked
before things overwhelmed the ease
when i still held a bit of the magic in my hand
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)