Can I pull you back? Again? Once more.
Can I have you again? Can I?
Can I have you back here in my life?
Can I ask you to stay and never say good bye?
Can I hold your hand like I always do?
Can you hug me from behind, like what you always do?
Can you kiss my forehead again as I sleep?
Can you ask me to eat again and tell me not to skip.
Can we go to church like each Sundays that passed by?
Can we drive crazy in highways, as if we'll never die?
Can we laugh again, and again as if we're insane.
Can I be your girl again?
Can I wipe these tears with your hands babe?
Can I borrow your arms and wrap the to mine?
Can I wear your shirt again so I can feel you
Can you be the one that I would say, I do.
Can you be my forever bestfriend indeed.
Can you be my enemy, but will choose to defeat.
Can you mine again like the old times.
Can I have you once more and forever be mine...
But I know, that will never to come again... :(
Home screams "42!" in red and white
Push it to the side
I have no time tonight
We are all separate, but wholly one
They are all separate, but wholly one
Father, Ghost, and the Son
Strange meetings in the middle of everything
Stare at the ground,
while your gaze starts to sting
How old are you?
How old am I?
Why did you grab my leg?
How did you notice my movements?
Where are you?
I want nothing to do with tomorrow.
Because self pity of today is overwhelming.
Knowing better doesn't change the actions
And my hip wants to pop out of its socket
On the streets of whe'ever the fuck in Oregon
Loss and gain
Measure the same, but one feels so much
heavier than the other.
Push beads back
Hold her hair back
The only difference is sharing loneliness with another
I'm not saying that I understand, fully what's happening here.
[Soul searching, or so I've been told]
But I know that you and I are worlds apart.
Is there this great of a disconnect between the rest of the world and I?
Because the Internet
i feel through anger
sometimes i want to love
i want to hold you close to me so that your breath
warms me up so much that i forget
i forget where i am
forget who i am
forget why i am angry
but i don't work like this
my heart doesn't pump blood
whiskey runs through my veins
and my cold hands
white like milk
could never hold you
as you are meant to be held
I tried to come up with all the reasons why I can't stop thinking about you
I came up with this list and if it doesn't make sense now, it will in time
I can't stop thinking about your smile because it is a time machine
Bringing me back to the days when I had all the time in the world to stare at the stars as each would gleam
When I broke toys instead of hearts and I didn't have a problem playing with fire
The flames were never tamed, I was always to blame but I had been the only one burnt by desire
I can't stop thinking about you because your voice is akin to my pen
Promising to stick with me through thick and thin, writing every wrong that there's ever been
And when you lose it, I fear I will lose it and never find another reason to stay out of this grave
I can't stop thinking about you because your words are like the light at the end of the cave
Here I was enslaved but you gave me hope for a brighter day. A sun with which to awaken
I've taken my God forsaken faith and reinforced it with your love, it will not be shaken
I can't stop thinking about you...and sometimes I don't know why
But why would I fly away when I can hold your hand and see the beauty of the night sky from your eyes
If I could choose,
My type of blues,
It would not be,
The midnight blues.
They come for me,
They come for you,
They come in ones,
Threes and twos
They're coming for fun,
They're along for the cruise,
They like to hide
Deep in our shoes.
Don't hold them tight,
And when you let them loose,
It will be alright.
I came home to find that the
Oven had been left on
And only the burnt crust of the brownies
Had been left uneaten and
Poor Jose had gone to bed drunk
I opened Jose's bottle of red wine
Because it was owed to me
And I saved all our lives by turning off
The oven and I sat at my computer watching videos
And thought of how Charles Bukowski's voice
Reminded me of the Disney version of the Jungle Book
Low and soothing and liquid
That you couldn't ever grab hold of
But lived in your memory
And the wine made memory sweet
Poor Jose drinks and his memory
Hits him like a stingray
Sliding just beneath the wet sand
His life is twisting and turning upwards
Towards some horrible nesting spot
And It's just like how sometimes
The cat's mewing seems deafening and
The more pleasant someone is the more you
Wanna pull out their eyelashes
And the cream colored paint on the walls
Is moments away from driving you mad
And with all that shit dully hurricaning around
Who's got time to turn off the oven?
I never thought that after our lips had touched
And our palms recognized each other
Your palm would be reaching for something else
Your palm kissed the back of your cell phone
While you wrote out those words
I'm hoping you'll regret
I never thought that after my heart called for yours
And yours called for mine
After I felt your smile to be a comforting safe zone
You were comfortable to stab the back
You used to yearn to hold
The way you were
And the way you are
Were never the same and never shall be
I never thought that after you burned my trust
I would be lying alone within cold sheets
Wondering which man you really were
Today my mother looked at me and told me I was becoming someone,
I smiled back at her pretending that my smile didn't have a gaping hole that let the happiness seep out.
I was 7 years old before I knew who my father was,
I tried desperately to be like someone, anyone, clinging on any similarity I could find.
At this time I didn't understand that some pages remain unwritten, I'm still not sure if I do.
I had the same question for every black man that walked by,
Is that my daddy?
Is that my daddy?
Is that my daddy?
A child can't hold the whole world in their tiny fingers.
Because kids in a 2nd grade classroom don't know why I'm different,
I don't know why I'm different,
I don't know why you can't write a letter.
How was I somebody if I had no idea who I am,
its like trying to build a house with no dimensions.
Today I was asked to make a family tree,
my teachers stare was almost as dark as the color of my skin
when my answer was that I couldn't.
Because my dad never bothered to show up.
Now I am forced to look at myself in the mirror and ask where I come from,
That one mole over my left eyebrow,
The beat of a drum in my heart calling me home but I keep my feet firmly planted on the ground because I don't know where home is.
Don't ask me why it matters, if you do, come back to me when you don't know half of who you are and tell me why.
I cant stop apologizing because no matter how many times I'm told I'm wrong, I know the reason he didn't come back was me.
So I'm not becoming someone, I'm left wandering in a dark room with no furniture.
All because you couldn't even write me a letter.
sleep is a date with death.
it's a time when your body is present but your conscious is not.
but are you really alive without a conscious?
in sleep your consciousness goes on a journey
taking Death by the hand
and accompanying him to the most majestic of ballrooms
and into the eyes of terrifying storms,
to the highest of mountains
and the deepest of the oceans' chasms,
to the most distant of memories
and the depths of what you had forgotten,
to your most prideful of accomplishments
and the greatest of all of your fears,
to the brightest of hopes and aspirations
and the most vacant corners of darkness.
he shows you what this world has to offer
anything and everything
each journey to be an experience your body may not have the chance to live.
yet every time you arouse from sleep
you awaken with nothing but haze
blurred images being all that your body can comprehend
in comparison to what journeys your mind can traverse.
as you age, your body becomes rickety and wrinkled
barely able to hold back such a bursting mind.
this is the time when your mind does not want to confine itself to a body any longer
it wants to experience more than what this world has to offer,
for in the hours awake within the body
combined with every date with Death
every memory had been made
every child had been born
every tear has been shed
every moment as a human, in body and mind, had been experienced.
your mind is not weak nor weary, rather, it thrives
within a clear container
and all that Death has yet to show you visible in the distance.
once your body can hold you back no longer, it sets your mind free.
that is when Death greets you
just as a peaceful lover would come dawn
and just as affectionately
he would accompany your mind
to everything else there is beyond
He says I am dangerous, like I am not a woman but a flame, black eyeliner and a course vocabulary. He says that he keeps his vices at arm’s length, and that is all I will ever be. You see I am not his princess, I am not life giving or presently persuasive. I am simply charcoal used to cure poisoning. I am nothing to him but a warm blanket to store until the winter months settle in. He would have me fester and burn on the floor of his dorm as the wind whispers our love into his ears.
I would be his wool blanket, hand knitted and stored in safety until his warm hands clutch mine in the moonlight. I would be his cigar in the pale dawn of Sunday, I would be his eye contact.
Don’t look away, stay focused on me. Here on the brink of destruction we stand, and I would band to you like hot wax melting against my back, attack the vermin which subsides in the history of our people. We still hold dear to the ideals of that period. However, we haven’t grown out of our britches yet.