c(w)(sh)ould

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
faceless
breathless hope
knowing someone has come
to change your life

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

24/7

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

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
roadblocked
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

inner child

its different on the inside
without the rocky exterior
without the bravado
beneath exoskeleton still intact
hidden amongst reflective surfaces
like fun house mirrors
dripping moments hanging like crystals
from cavernous walls
hinting unspoken words like sighs
its different on the inside
within sky high walls
where she frames her wishes like family
to hang in endless hallways
declarations of desires
where sarcasm softens
welcome mats leave footprints of vulnerability
leading onto a pathway
hardly remembered but cherished
treasure maps leads through
hundreds of locked doors, up and into
her childhood hiding place
its different on the inside
far away from the scars left
from piercing words
glimpsed only when her eyes become
crescent moons of sea water
days like this
when the outside world offers little sentiment
when understanding is skewed to illegible graffiti
spraypainted onto the back of her eye lids
its different on the inside
where love is kept safe from harm
and warmth washes over
like a low tide
lapping around ankles
without any deterrent to dreaming