The windows to your soul
The things that betray you
The things that cause someone pain
They are actresses
Always putting on a show
They are beautiful
Like the glint of the knife
Deadly, but beautiful
But sometimes they disappear
From the world we know
To see things in another
But they always come back
To betray us again

Tell me what is wrong with me
    because I do not know

Tell me what you want from me
   because I do not know

Tell me what is right with me
    because I do not know

Tell me if you still love me
   because. . .  I do not know

I know you don't read my poetry,
So I don't think you'll ever see
What I write here about you,
And what you mean to me.

I know you don't want to be with me,
And I know that I don't deserve you
After everything I put you through,
And all that we've been through.

We'd fight, we'd argue,
Then I'd break up with you
- Or we'd resolve our issues -
And I'd still love you.

What went down then
Will never happen again.
I got lost in life
And went astray.

But now that I've gotten away,
Away from that, away from frat,
Away from Death and gotten my life back,
I see you're all I want, nothing but that.

But I know from what you say,
And despite how I've grown and how I've changed,
To be everything to you and more
Is a precious chance I'll never have again.

There are people all around me
Though I see no one
Gray blurs, different shapes
But no faces
I am alone in a sea of people
No one will listen
No one will listen to my story
The one that is buried in time
I could scream
But no one would hear
Not the fish, nor the birds
Only me to hear my story
The story buried in time
Though it does not affect the todays
It affects the yesterdays
The yesterdays from which we came
To ignore it is to ignore ourselves
To ignore what ignites our passion
And our will
And our will to live
Our immense will to survive
The story buried in time tells
Of life in heaven
Life without corruption
A perfect life
A life where we may see love
Not hate or greed
Just everything as it was meant
To be seen
Pure and light
Black and white
No gray blur
Na unrecognizable faces
Just black and white, love and hate
A place where we are not welcome
Not in our mortal lives
But our immortals souls have
The secret password
Till then we are banished
We know what we do
But not what we did
Because that story
Because we are ignorant
Is buried in time

She wants to know what it's like to be young,
Born into a grown up world
where Peter Pan never existed,
Neverland just an insane creation.
Alice is just a long forgotten dream
and the idea of Wonderland is nonsense.
Her hair isn't grey like the hears surrounding her,
Yet she's lived twice as much as their combined existence.

The Fairy Godmother never gave her a shot
to lose a glass heel that the prince would never even find.
Her dreams are whiter than the purest snow,
Though she was born with a ruby apple in her mouth.
She will remain a beauty sleeping for eternity,
a princess locked away forever in a cold, dank dungeon.
This beast is savagely cruel, a truly heartless entity.
Their is no changing it, no saving it, no saving her.

Now, I know what you’re thinking:
He’s just another fucking heart throb,
Using his fat gob and lazy rhymes,
To tell us he’s emotional.

Well, yeah...you’re right.
What gave it away?
Do my short sentences betray?
It’s the way I play with rhetorical questions, you say?

Perhaps...

Perhaps its my use of... pauses... that so delineates me from the others?
Hmm...

Perplexing...

Maybe it’s my habit of only speaking from the heart through verse.
Because speaking plainly...I can’t think of anything worse...
I rehearse and rehearse and rehearse,
So if you take poetry away from me, then I curse you for what you have done.
Because I have only just begun...

Without the rhyme, the beat, the rhythm, I am a facade of sparkling happiness...
So that no one can feel me.
Always having to conceal me.
Never showing the real me.
But without knowing what’s wrong, how can anyone ever heal me?

Heal my heartache and mindache and soulache and... headache...

Fuck it...just let me take a nurofen and leave me the fuck alone...
Sobbing in the corner rummaging for some rhymes to spout when I get the microphone...

May 2013

When we are old and grey,
we’ll forget about us, now.
Forget about the shouts, the screams,
the arguments we had, and how,

We would always fix it.
Always strive until the end.
Always lie in bed together,
Each next to their best friend,

But now I cry in bed alone,
From the things that we both said.
From the thoughts I think you’re having.
From the thoughts inside MY head.

And if all you’ve done is lie to please me,
Then where is the you I know and love?
If all you’ve done is be honest and true,
We’re together ‘til fire rains from above.

I love the you I know,
But I can only love what’s on show

April 2013

Love at first sight?

Bollocks.

How shallow can you be to instantly love someone you know nothing about?
You know she is kind because of the small of her back,
You know she has grace because of her walk,
You know she has passion because of her hips,
She is cheeky...The curls of her hair...

Bollocks.

And while you try to muster all the courage you can,
And you fear you might be thwarted,
By some posho with a white shirt and styled hair,
You agree to finish what you started.

‘She’ turns round - FUCK! It's a man!

March 2013

it’s 2 am
we’re sitting in your car, squeezing in the front seat.
you’re holding me in your big arms
you look at me, wild eyed and restless and whisper,
“i love you. and i don’t want to lose you.”
so i looked away and fought back my tears
i held your hand, but then quickly let go.
“but you don’t intend on keeping me either. do you?”
and to that you had no response

so we continued to lay there in silence
because i know you don’t love me.
or maybe you do, and maybe it’s just in a way that i don’t understand.
we always hurt the ones that we love
so maybe you just love me too much.
i can’t wake up in the morning without you on my mind.
it troubles me to think that we might not be meant for each other.
or this entire time you are just a dream.
if you are, how could my mind ever create a creature so beautiful?
a human so perfect.

you come to me with every imbalanced emotion
but i know if i ever show up at your door,
wild eyed and restless,
you will not show me sympathy or let me in.
you will tell me to go home.

the hardest surgery is the one you perform on yourself.
Steady?
Ready?
No anesthesia but a chuckle of nervous humor
the first incision across your heart.


When you finish (many months later)
you put the scalpel down, wave weakly
to the clapping colleagues hugging each other in disbelief
from the observatory, sterile and eager
you give them a wan grin
and hope they've watched closely
so that now they know how...
how to do this.

At twenty-something, I was taught by Fear
who said nothing matters
and then at twenty-something-else I was taught by Faith
who said anything matters
And she wasn't the Sunday kind of Faith that you find
clasped between your palms, clasped like you're afraid
that if you let go the Faith will just tumble out and break.
No, she was the Faith that was bigger than God and so intimate
that sometimes I was the Faith, sometimes you were the Faith,
and sometimes the Faith was me.
So really, Faith doesn't have a name.
But Faith and Fear, they both breathe, they're each lung
and when I fill one, the other billows, after all
you need two to breathe.

And so then I, feeling bold, learned about Bravery.
I had heard about it in newspapers and history book indexes
and in our local volunteer firefighters.
Wondered if I could buy it.
Wondered how much it goes for.
But I couldn't find Brave until the moment I gave up on it
and said, screw it, I'm so scared but I don't care anymore,
I'll just do it, Brave be damned.  
And surely enough, it was hiding beneath the tremors.
So really, Brave was the Siamese twin of I'll Just Do It.
which, by the way, wasn't in the glossary of this or any history book.

Everything changes, you know?
I'm changing, you're changing.
Oh, it storms me like the sea!
I secretly raise my glass to stasis, my faraway frenemy.
Don't tell the other Sagittarians, they'd exile me surely.
Change, letting go of my old faces
feels too close to dying,
feels too close to leaving you behind.

And I'm not ready to leave you behind.

Oh the West, keep your Mountains.
If only for a little longer.

I've excised my soul again and again
transplanted and sutured
but there's just no time.

Even with these visions from under the knife-
there's just no time to heal
before I'm laid on the table again.

Faith hold me-
Fear teach me
so I can...

Steady.

Please- stay with me.

Ready?