Sunday, December 30, 2012

You're Not a Mess For Me

i get drunk to remember you and then i get drunk to forget you. there is no love in either state and i should put down the bottle and stay far far away from you. that girl with the guitar, the country one, she knew you were trouble when you walked in but i didn't ( well i did ) and i couldn't help but fall into your trap of comfort. but now im so uncomfortable, seriously uncomfortable. and there is no amount of drunk that could make me feel a little love because this funk is a distaste case of a mess and you are not a mess i want to get messy with. 

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Fill Me With Poison, Instead of the Likes of You

Why have you yet to bow out?
And why have I continued to let you in. These are the sick and twisted thoughts bouncing inside my head. And why is my heart not such a sunken ship, there seems to be an ocean inside my lungs that just won't sit. A fire has blazed upon my cuffs and you seem to know to put them out. And when my feet are cold from weather and not from cowardliness you seem to bring the heat. And even though there are moments of hallmark and absolute sugar it's always drenched in some sort of green, this slime that I can never be free from, a mold that knows how to turn me. I hate that part of me. The person I become. They say feelings that come back are just feelings that never went away but I'm not sure because I go through you like Kool-Aid and I'm starting to get sick of myself no longer that sugar high that once craved my mouth. Fill me with poison instead of the likes of you.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Familiar Stars and Stripes

and there was nothing to remember, nothing more to remember, just the flag that blew up in flames.
i wasn't even there, countries away, i wasn't even inside myself - far off i felt like i was drowning.
there was so inclination of hope, of restitution. there was no such things - i'm starting to believe
these things never really were on a makeshift table, ready for people to sample to savour.
there is a different kind of feeling when it happens so far, yet with the means of today,
everything is happening much closer than they appear. the emotions are high in such times.
there is a seeping stench that is wafting from where terrible things happen, and i can see
the fire that burns and the pain that was caused even from my sky, where there are no
stars and there are no stripes, there is nature and colour blocks and eventually... a
not so safe place, because evil is in the air, and no where is safe, and slowly we're all
apart of such a horrible place, a televised horror and we're waiting for a familiar face.

Beneath the Moon I Find You

There was this beautiful moment I wanted to hold but my hands were to quick and it passed me. I willed the sun to stay down while I searched the night for it but the sun triumphed the moon and made a fool of me; out on the streets, covered in glitter - bare feet. I walked the sidewalk meeting people's eyes, hoping to catch the moment resting there. I searched the sky and didn't find it there, for the clouds were slumped everywhere. Soon the sun got tired and slipped off between the mountains, the moon came out and there I saw it, not the same but just as bright, you were there beneath the moon telling me to look no further, and we began creating things anew.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Clever Carets

She wore clever carets and had a lavish diet of airfare and fizz. She wore rabbit and never mink. There was a dislocated look to how she felt about paparazzi, but loved the word in itself. There was a different kind of peculiar to her and people tried to bottle it up and sell it for decades. It was unattainable. For her passion was inconsistent and her love was off the cuff. She derailed herself when falling in love and always lost herself to a stiff drink. Her voice melodic and loopy after a glass of wine. She looked her best with tainted lips and sleepy eyes, and her hair always looked better when she didn't try.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Signs from the Pots and Pans

Flowers, stretch towards the sun.
We, curl into each other.
The hum of the refrigerator is our orchestra tonight.
Laughter on the tube, on low.
The glow has become our makeshift fireplace.
The rise and fall of your chest, matches mine.
I am warmed by you.
I am cooled by you.
The neighbors are arguing.
The smash of their pots and pans highlighting our love.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The Hole in Your Sleeve, Keeps Me

Our coffee cups became empty but our hearts were full 
of all the stories we had just finished telling one another. 
And they punctuation of our stories were heightened by 
the flames that lit our cigarettes, and the hold on the sleeve 
of your collared shirt, allowed you to loop your thumb through. 
And it reminded me of how much closer I wanted to be. 
I wanted to curl up and stay in that hole, and feel the current 
in your veins, it would warm me. 
I didn't say any of that to you, I didn't want you to think I was a creep. 
But it wasn't until you mentioned the depth of my pockets and how 
you wouldn't mind just staying in there all day while I carried you with me. 
..i realized we were both weird and lovable and odd together..

Out of My Reality, a Literary Tragedy

This is chaos and you're not near. My body wilts like a rose trapped in snow. I think my heart has shattered. I cannot find one piece. The oceans swell is gentle but anchors pull my lungs. A storm lurks silently, I think I've lost my mind. I saw your face in the moon but the shine caused me to go momentarily blind. There was a stain on the fire hydrant outside my building, I hoped you'd gotten drunk and came to see me, left your mark. But it was my neighbors dalmatian. I like your spots, the one that nestle on your rib cage, I kissed them to connect the dots and then I'd sleep in your nook. Did I read about you in a book, you seem out of my reality, a literary tragedy.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

The Act of Being Present

The spot on the wall you keep your eyes on because if you looked away, at any moment, you could completely crumble. The state of your company in their ever-present form.They make it matter, they matter to the making. We were thrown a problem, and trouble did not scare us. The world shook us altogether but we did not waiver. Sticking together and pulling through, there is a growing amount of compassion for the genorosity that I've experienced. If I haven't told you, you ought to know. I am thankful for the way you didn't let go, and even when it appeared like we had, in times like this - there aren't appropriate words just the act of being present and the act of time cascading over us altogether.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

In Nature is Where You Will Reconnect

when places merge and you meet yourself among the grass where you didn't think to ever look, for that is what happens to the self. at times, it is too scared, of itself, to actually surrender and speak, often the self is speaking but the self isn't listening to that voice within, it is listening to the devil angel duo on their shoulders, for the outward bound voices are more intriguing, or simply just louder. there is a place, in nature, when that piece of you - the piece unheard, goes to rest. while there it wakes and is suddenly wondrous and adventurous and suddenly not so scared in their entire selfless self and there in nature is where you will reconnected with the pieces of you scattered in the fields and in the oceans and among the flowers waiting for you to notice yourself.