It's a typical situation, in these typical times; too many choices and so many crimes. Caught between this and stuck behind that, proverbial rock and hard place, harsher than fact. A maze of confusion, doubts all around. Wondering what will happen if solid ground is not found. The difficult dance of very fine lines, balancing grace with independence that shines. Dancing our way thru friendships we cherish, trying our hardest to not let them perish. Sometimes we slip and fall off the slope, tumbling to the bottom, heart robbed of hope. Looking up at the peak so far from attaining, gritting our teeth against the pain that we're obtaining. Scabs and bruises, stab wounds and breaks. Our bodies may be whole but the heart never fake, telling the tale of our costly mistakes. Try as we might we continue to stumble, tripping on heartstrings unraveled and jumbled. Longing for a world where things are simple, yearning for a life that's a little more gentle. Kinder to those who actually care, about their jobs and their families who's houses they share. Backbreaking toil to see a child filled with joy, from the presents he's given by his parents employ. A life that's understanding when loved ones die, giving grace to those who must drop all and fly. To be there for a grandfather they loved so dear, be able to say "I wish you were here." Alas life is cruel, twisted, filled with thorn, causing some to wonder "why was I born?"
It's 2am in December and my windows are all open.
Trying to remember what it's like to feel..
I'd smoke another Newport, but I've smoked so many
that it hurts to inhale normal air,
especially the crisp winter air
that's pouring into my apartment,
sleep seems futile..
There's an empty bottle of cheap pinot lying next to me,
a half-finished PBR, from the thirty I bought myself
and I haven't thought of you in a while.
My mind wanders to that alleyway in the heart of Columbus,
dark and deserted,
the sounds of lovers off in the distance,
my boyfriend calling my name, searching
but I can't hear him.
I can only hear you...
You see love, I haven't thought of you,
haven't let myself back to that place
because I met a nice boy,
who told me nice things,
asked nicely if he could touch me, in nice places
before he did so,
and it was nice...
So I waited and he waited,
took things slowly for once,
convinced him it was worth it,
that I, was worth it,
so when he told me, it was beautiful
and I told him right back.
it was beautiful,
"I love you"...
And don't you dare question me, love
for I love him,
because he thinks I'm wonderful,
hasn't seen the scary parts that I'd showed you,
doesn't believe I'm as broken as I say,
He tells me I'm perfect...
that night in Columbus, Ohio still haunts me,
the night you rode a bus for sixteen hours to get to,
that moment we're screaming at each other,
I'm telling you that I hate you, and I know you've never cared
why are you even here? I HATE you...!
You kiss me.
Like your sole purpose in life... was to kiss me.
Like you'd been waiting forever..
You kiss me
like you were created by God
for the final moment
where your lips would dance with mine,
and fireworks would fly
from your fingertips
as they brushed across my cheeks,
turning tears into vapor,
unspoken truths into song,
longing into love,
you kissed me.
Kissed me, and saved me from being stone..
That night, you told me everything I'd ever longed for you to tell me.
Told me about your terrifying family,
and the reasons you were better off being alone.
I wept into your arms as you told me you loved me,
that you had given me every single thing you could,
how you were sorry it wasn't enough.
And I told you all the sad things I'd lived through,
all the boys who never learned my name,
all the nights I'd never had a home,
the day I wished I was dead..
And you stroked my hair, told me not to cry,
wiped the tears from my cheeks,
while I told you that all you had to do was ask,
that I'd come back for you.
All you had to do was tell me to come back, for you.
And that night,
in that tiny apartment, 700 miles from home
you made love to me,
kissed me softly,
whispered sweet nothings until I fell asleep on your chest...
You became home, my love,
You were my home.
The next day,
you got on a Greyhound bus back to where you came from.
Didn't look back.
And I went back to that little apartment,
never looked back down that alleyway,
and once more,
She's everything to me.
She's my light in the dark, my shelter from the rain, my warmth from everything that's cold in this world.
But through the frustration and the anger and sadness.. All I am ever thinking about is how much I love her.
How much she means to me.
All the moments that I've had with her;
hearing her heartbeat for the first time;
holding her while she cried, while she held my scars in her lovely hands;
watching her rest and seeing her smile so beautifully while she slept..
That makes it all worth it.
Everyday I see her,
Everyday I get to hug her for that one moment,
makes it all worth it.
There is so much I need to say to her.
So much that I wish I could explain so she could see what she is to me.
I can't ever lose her.
She must never go from me or leave me.
I couldn't handle life.
She is my life.
She is everything good and beautiful and heavenly in this world.
She's my world, my everything.
And I will never leave her side.
I thank God everyday for her and ask that He keeps her happy and safe.
I hope she loves me forever.
Because I love every part of her.
My best friend.
I love her forever.. .
I took a turn for the worse,
I hit a fork in the road
and caught some kinda Voodoo curse.
If you box the ace of spades
you know your luck is going to change,
it's going to change for the worse.
I got the Devil in my doorway
just a leanin' on the bell.
I know he's not going away
'till he's sure imma going to hell.
These February blues
I do detest, they've taken away
my 'happy-go-lucky' and put me under House Arrest.
So you know, if you box the Bitch
you're liable to play until you empty your purse.
My Muse she flew
out the back door and she's on the run,
screaming over her shoulder
'It ain't a crime to be unhappy but it isn't any fun.
What's it called,
when you know your place?
Keep calm behind those dark glasses
that hide your oh so easy to read.. poker face.
I give to you my heart,
a piece, if you will;
A piece 'till your lips say-
I accept the burden of this life.
I give to you my core,
essence and body of this soul;
Keep them close or throw them off.
It hardly matters, they're all yours.
I give to you my Love;
ever dreading for the simple no.
Darling, I'll take whatever you'll give,
Misery or joy-
My heart is yours to toy.
Declared to be the home of the ants,
the barn was, also, shared by the dogs
and the big lizards who stored
formidable teeth opposite the nipping
mandibles. Each moment the favorite
spaces became temples traversed by
wandering dotted lines while,
certainly, a pause to clean the claws
gave time for articles of memory. Attire
provided a music festival to brighten the
warm days with delicate sounds within
dark recesses where chilly dust filtered
the beams to secure the rafters. Along
these trails, the plight was relieved; the
threat was removed to slumber waiting
for a wind swept rush of fur. Pulling
the shutters back from the eyes, the
working specks of the ants proclaimed
their choices and followed these
implications into predicaments leading
them to be wise. The influence
demonstrated the passing of lives into
praise for the correct answers by which
the ways advanced to persist. There was
plenty of empty, sweet time hovering
above their heads yet leaving them
impatient to see a transpired eternity,
gathered in a massive tribe, ready to
explore the encroaching season with its
microscopic grasses and piles of stone.
As an institution, the old, red building
weathered its boards in the valley,
forgotten by more pragmatic industries
in cans and bottles of plastic. To wear
the collar of the ant or the lizard was a
rare honor not granted in the homes
of many house wives. It was as rare as
gold to find lodging with the fascinating
mercy of the human outlook. It was a
great deal of trouble to look after these
others, small or large as they might be.
Seemingly, it was difficult to explain the
logic intended to regulate the wild,
independent lives, and, as they were
misguided, an anger tended to drive them
closer rather than away. Under the skin,
it was very close to an intolerable form of
humor, but what explained itself as being
very funny also remained the hostility
alienated and inevitable, like the slamming
horns of the sheep and goats, like the poetry
of the birds and the herds.
And so the lion fell in love with the lamb
She thought she had the upper hand
But fate got in the way
And the lion had nothing to say
So they began a life together
Determined to last forever
For their love was stronger than you would believe
So intense it almost decieves
But the lion couldn't overcome
All the obstacles to be with the one
He left the lamb with tears in her eyes
And wouldn't return despite her tries
Now the lamb couldn't comprehend
Why the lion wouldn't spend
A life time with her by his side
Damn the lion and his stupid pride
But the lion soon came to regret
The fact that he could ever let
His precious lamb get away
And now the lion knew what to say
He needed his lamb and needed her bad
See he missed the love that they had
But the lamb did not forgive
All that the lion did
But she loved her lion, she couldn't deny
Even if she couldn't explain why
And so the lion fell in love with the lamb
Stupid lion, stupid lamb