I am nothing,
And that's okay.
You’ve got dirt under your fingernails
But I like it that way
Because then I know you have stories
Just like I have gum stuck to the bottom of my shoes
Floss your teeth so my heart can pretend
My lips are the first yours ever saw
And my tongue can count your teeth
Like your night-time whispers
You will strum your guitar
I will think of my father
But your hands hold no bottle
You will live to keep things clean
I will think of my mother
But you won’t yell at me
I don’t need much if I have you
Just promise me that’s okay
I distract myself
with television shows
and when they end,
it replaces empty crying with a reasoned crying.
I walk barefoot
because it's like
ice-cream in the snow,
you don't expect it to feel so nice.
I avoid talking to strangers
because I know their smiles
were already wasted
on other people they didn't care about.
I look at my eyes
when I cry
because they look like
I hurt myself
because having that pain
somewhere other than pulsing
in my head feels better.
I talk to you
because I can tell you these things
and you'll still say
that I'm okay.
It's easy to write about warm people. It's simple to just let their love and compassion flow effortlessly out into the world. They stumble upon the perfect one, THE one, and fall in love even if they don't know it. And for a while they don't, because that's the beauty of it. They don't know, and then suddenly they do and they realize that they're complete and whole now, that they've found someone who fills the cracks in their soul.
It would not be so easy to write about someone who flat out refuses to admit that they are not already complete. Then he appeared. I couldn't see him, but I knew he was there. Oh, this is a game then, I thought. I'll see what I can figure out about you.
I heard it so loud and clear. Shivering, I whispered, nice to meet you, Isaac. I let images flash through my mind as though I was trying to settle on the one that fit the personality walking at my heels. He's blonde. Which is odd. My characters aren't usually blonde. But he's blonde in a way that he can hide. At first I thought he'd walk slowly, shuffling his feet as though he was so focused on what was inside his mind that outside of it his coordination was all off. But then I realized he was keeping up with me, and I am quite a brisk walker. Isaac is one of those people who builds walls. He doesn't know it, but he does it. Everyone else notices. They notice, but they don't care. The only time people run into his walls are when they try to complement him on his playing.
Oh, did I mention he's a musician? That's why he's built the walls. As of now, I'm pretty sure he's a violinist.
But anyway, when people compliment him, try to tell him how the ways he plays that violin opened a well of feelings within them that they didn't know existed, he stares blankly. They blink, thank him again, and hurry off, wondering if the reason his blue eyes were so confused was that they'd lost their ocean of feeling to the music.
I wanted him to be chubby, perched somewhere on the border of adorable baby fat and visibly out of shape. But his shadow behind me is tall and bony. Not athletic, not chiseled or lean, just wiry. All sinew and nerves. Like when he plays, he might rip.
Then I'm home. Mom calls down stairs and asks how my day was. It was fine. Boring.
I know I left Isaac outside, but he doesn't want to come in. So it's okay.
When Goodbye We All Must Say
Today I saw my mother
She seemed so tired and grey
She knows that she is sick
Still she says it's all okay
She says now dont worry
We all have a time to go
She talks about the plans she's made
And the things that we shoud know
We tell her to keep fighting
Dont give up on her life
Still inside we know her journey
Must have an end in sight
She says when the fight is over
And she has given all she can
She knows she'll then be ready
To meet her journeys end
I dont know really what to do
For this woman I so love
She has raised five children on her own
And never once did she gave up
We tell her that we love her
And pretend that we dont see
The disease that has taken her
And dropped her to her knees
I love this woman so very much
And I want to take from her the pain
For I dread that day I know will come
When good bye we must all say
Carl Joseph Roberts
I want to feel you count all the bones in my spine,
While I sit and count the reasons I want to make you mine.
And you’ll finish long before me, I won’t finish until we’re dead.
But it’s okay because I will be with you until the end.
I know I'm damaged,
don't remind me.
I'll never be whole
at least I don't think so.
To be whole
I'd have to forgive.
I don't know
If I'll ever be able to.
Forgive everything that has happened
Forgive everyone that has wronged me
I don't think I can
I want to
I want to try to let go
But when I think I'm past it
When I think I'm going to be okay
and brings me
so hard to not fall
to not fall into depression
to not let myself fall
but it's hard.
When you've been depressed
most of your life
it's hard to not be.
It's easier to give in
easier than working to be happy
because I have to work to be happy
I have to work to feel joy.
I don't think
that's how it should be.
I know no one cares
whether I am happy or not
No work required
when no one cares.
Your Beautiful Eyes Were Looking At Me Today
Telling Me I Love You
I Wish I Could Have You
Are Making Me Love You More
I Just Want You
You Said You're Gonna Offer Me A Ride
But Because Of My Friend Said That I Must Stay With Her
My Eyes &
Your Beautiful Eyes Looked At Each Others
As If They Are Talking!
Remembering What Happened The Last Time You Drove Me Home
Your Beautiful Eyes Were Smiling Looking Onto Mine !
When We Were Alone&You Asked Me Again
I Explained Why I Won't Go For A Ride With You This Time
Because Of My Friend
You Said Okay
I knew That You Were Not Happy
From Your Spoken Eyes
When You Said Bye I Said Bye
As If As I'm Not Gonna See You Again
When You Walked & Then Stopped
I realized That There Is Something Wrong !
You Turned Around
Are You Coming Again ?
Am I Going To See You ?
I Said Yea In A Loud Voice Then
We Both Smiled
What A Man !
It's okay to be a crater in the moon
The sidewalks sleek slipperiness
Teases my vulnerable boot
One false move and I'm
Face down in the gutter
I need to be the lone, cumulus cloud in the sky
The black ink of an unidentifiable
Breaks my white, puffy monotony
It's important to be thrust into the cluster on those who walk too closely
A pungent pallet
Of too many different smells
sway like chopsticks against mine
The end of someone's coat
grazes my outer thigh
I need to be thrust into the cold cave that is my loneliness
I need to hear my own breath
flowing with the rhythm of the cars
cruising through the unread chapter of the
dark, quiet streets
the evil captor
I need to be sorry
and, oh, I am
A thousand times over
My apologies are bigger than
every Redwood tree in existence
I'm so out of controlWhiplash
Five cuts in your back
I'm right there
to heal them
before they even had a chance to bleed
I'd rather leave you banging on the back door
Even when the sun sinks
I won't listen
to your pleas
The road ahead of you
I won't be the lantern that fuels your unctuous behavior
I can't run with the rats forever
The mirror feeds me a different reflection every time I look into it
my hand doesn't shake in fear
It rests in quiet resolution
Soundly over my other
Outside the wind strikes up an angry storm
The door falls to it's knees
to it's ferocity
"I almost died you know...the pills were all I had ya know"
The bottom sways and the ceiling drips with the flood of a thousand sentences each picked from a
"The baby, she fine, but, she deserve better"
God bless her heart
the way Destiny always takes
that one corner
too fast too soon
when we're driving pas the Orange Groves
before I even had a chance to smell
Tongue sways out sloppily
It's okay...it's okay
I go outside to reach
something a little more dangerous
then the doldrums of the same wall
trash that piles beneath my boots
Hand shakes loaded with dice
or maybe some fur
rolling between my fingers
I never smelled those blossoms
The wind beats at me with it's
own finicky retort
"I was dyin in the hospital, ya know
mah leg was ripped up,
and those pills,
were It man
they were It
The dice slide out of my slippery palms
I'm rewarded with snake eyes and whimpers
the Wind finally dies underneath the fields of your hair
Smoke hits the wall
and curls in and out of your pink daggers
"My baby, she ain't dead, I thank god every day for that
Bless Her tiny heart"
Pink daggers with one triangular eye
resting atop your
A perfect red river makes it's way
long fleshy arms
covering the dice that sit loyally
aside your shadow
the dice that
Permanently remains on
that never blink
"I thank god every day"