Love (or not)
Look at me. What do you see?
Do you see the calm, cool and collected girl in front of you?
That's what they all see.
I look at you. What do I see?
I watch you laugh at the jokes I force upon us to fill the silence.
That's what I always see.
Look at me. What do you see?
Do you see the confidence of a girl with an easy life?
That's what they all see.
I look at you. What do I see?
I see in your eyes the contentment of your soul; the heart of a life that is full.
That is what I always see.
Look at me. What do you see?
Can you see my green eyes on the verge of spilling over ready to expose my lonely soul?
Don't worry, no one ever sees.
Like a river runs
Rushing, raging, flowing fast
Two souls merge as one
Between the tears there is...laughter
Between the tears there are...smiles
Between the tears there is...sunshine
Between the tears there is...life
But the tears are where he is and where my heart will always be.
Maybe if I stop reading books about love
Maybe if I stop listening to music.
Maybe if I stop looking at the moon.
Maybe if I never go to the places where I can see his ghost.
Maybe if I never look at his smile in pictures.
Maybe if I stop smelling his tie just to remember his sent.
Maybe if I stop thinking about him; maybe my heart will stop hurting.
Maybe...
The soft texture tickled her toes
And she was quick to replace her bare foot,
Searching for a place free of the
Delicate petals
That fell from her hands.
Twelve more fragile futures fell to the ground,
Collecting in an indecisive heap
Whose beautiful, red hues
Played tricks with the sun,
Filling her head with illusions
That all will be alright.
She slashed at the other flowers
Standing tall and proud around her,
Dancing with the wind
To heart stopping lyrics
Sung in a language she could not understand.
Tearing them up from the roots,
She cursed their peaceful attitude
And cold, heartless souls
That continued to exude radiance
As they teased her fragile heart,
Dishing out good and bad news
With a lovely toss of their golden center.
It began to rain on their flawless figures,
Yellow drops burning imperfect circles
Through the otherwise perfect surface of their petals.
For minutes, it continued to pour on the flowers,
The large bottle held in the girl's trembling hand,
Marked kerosene,
Seemed to never run dry,
Drowning the roots in a deadly poison.
"He loves me not!"
She shouted,
Tossing the bottle aside,
Only after showering herself in the
Polluted rain,
Becoming momentarily fixated on the way she reflected the light
With dozens of drops clinging to her skin.
The lighter was ruby red,
Just like the petals who told of such a gloomy future.
She had purchased it at the drug store because of its color,
Her reflection bathed in red hid her uneven skin tone,
Making her for the first time an image of beauty.
Flames took to the parched earth
Like a teenage girl to dreams of happily ever after.
Petals turned to ashes
And skin to a yellow, melted liquid,
Which fueled the inferno better than the yellow rain.
Blistered fingers still held the lighter,
The only thing visible in the dark,
Smoky air.
She clung to the image of her reflection,
Staring at the face that had never been loved,
And never would be,
Long after flames took her sight.
But the way water beads on your skin
And the flash of the shadow in your bare spine when you pull on a shirt in the morning
How could anything be so beautiful
I don't mean to
But I watch you
And I feel
About every strand on your head
About every wrinkle in your irises
I don't like to feel so much
I could puke, I'm so full.
The last time we spoke,
I forced a smile.
Forced myself to say hello.
No eye contact.
From 6 feet away.
Even though I know,
your smile was fake.
BANG
That string holding my heart together,
explodes.
And the past 3 months
I'd spent
Forgetting every touch
Every love
completely disappeared.
Both smiles were forced.
I wish I knew
the explanation
behind his.
I know we both know,
What's behind mine.
the klaxon carols of your grief belie the golden pipes of your madness.
the cherubs embedded in your lost happiness
slip through cracks in your voice. James Joycean.
the fugue, your discord dims, seeps through the gauze
of your field dress. your wound holds the root note
oozing Rorschach ~ Rachmaninoff
jungian etudes allude
to a deep you at the bitter end
gnawing on sweet bones to marrow sip
from the holy grail and -
a humble pagan tit. i greet you at the airport, barefooted.
found you
talking to a cloud
in your blue sky vodka. it was shaped
like an anvil cloud in your iris
watched as you forged
lightning bolts -
fit to hinge
heaven's
door.
we had the same flight at two different altitudes.
and i loved you more.
You at least went.
so that meant the party could finally be awkward.
that's homeroom
at your personal Harvard
your low self esteem was the head dean
[ claimed you had promise ]
then promptly vomits
but you promised to maim
your lollipops with hot topic's
most goth night-shade of hemlock
iron-on, henna tattoos
for your thin lips.
like two gates
to a birdcage
where you keep
ravens...
pecking the tip of your tongue
where your brave words die
for lack of oxygen... pecking
the flesh off the skeleton key
to the heart of your insightful
comment,... stymied -
a black raven
savors the succulent eyes
of your hurricanes, so
braille maps for blind rage
fly off the shelves... fly like
led zeppelins to
fresh hell.
you lose your window seat
on the wing of a prayer
to Charles Bukowski.
now you're scowling a gilded smile
at all the Ed Hardlys'...
good thing you brought Jello Biafra Shots
to the shindig... cubes of gelatinous absinthe
each with a sugar box
lodged in supermax insecurity prisms...
fey emeralds.
monochrome rubicons
you pop
when cross.
like wainscotting the panic room
that came with a dejay
who thinks you're
a boy who got
lost.
Run from suffering
and from pain.
Say Goodbye to the clouds,
if they will not bring rain.
No salt without saltiness.
No love without caress.
Fight for what is,
gone be what is not.
If you spend your life waiting,
you’re going to rot.
So keep on moving
and keep your head cool.
A rock that keeps rolling
makes moss it’s fool.
