I forgot how it felt.
The aching of a chest as I lean over my patio wall.
Having an affinity with the dust in my throat
That burns along side of my eyes
And you dont know,
But it was worse when you left.
Five.
My dark blue comforter.
My closet door.
The light switch.
The cigarbox on my night stand.
The ***** laundry in my hamper.
I forgot how it felt.
To not breathe when trying to catch as much of the stale air in my bedroom as I could.
Residing there were residual hearts in residual pieces.
Four.
My sheets
My bed frame
The rough carpeting
My cat who disappeared because of the noise.
I forgot how it felt to feel like youre dying.
When anxiety turns into losing your ******* ****
Because you lost it and you're alone.
Three.
The hum of a ceiling fan that barely works
Scratching of a pen on paper
My breathing and soft whispers that dont matter.
I forgot how it felt.
To feel useless and filled with an intense self loathing
Because I saw your eyes lined with red and watched you walk away - my voice not carrying to call you back.
Two.
My (your) pillow.
My comforter.
I forgot how it felt
To close the door and fall to the floor because I didnt work anymore.
And to know, buried deep under this weeping,
That you wont forgive me.
One.
Salt.
I forgot how it felt.
To feel like I'm dying.
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 1:32 PM UTC
Speech after long silence; it is right,
All other lovers being estranged or dead,
Unfriendly lamplight hid under its shade,
The curtains drawn upon unfriendly night,
That we descant and yet again descant
Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song:
****** decrepitude is wisdom; young
We loved each other and were ignorant.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 12:13 PM UTC
Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 12:11 PM UTC
Its sitting here,
Right in my soul.
It was silent before and let my heart run wild
And now, oh beauty at rest,
Wake for yet again you have made a terrible mistake.
Weep for your taker and live for thy giver,
For you were no one's to have.
And yet youve promised the moon to a lover
Unto which you can only offer the stars.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 11:02 PM UTC
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 6:59 PM UTC
She's got me again.
Pushed up against the doorway.
And its so warm inside.
My breath, you can see,
Shaking against the winter
That seeps into her eyes and settles in her bones.
Her fingers line my shoulders
And fidget their way to my ribs
Where flowers do grow but never stay for dinner.
And I dont stop her
Because she holds me above water sometimes.
And I dont really want to drown.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 6:56 PM UTC
I do not wander, not have I
Slept and rolled
O'er the nights in my bed, in my mouth,
Thoughts of instinctive delight of other beds,
Of other hands.
What next shall we deny ourselves?
Blissful incompetence - a mediocre understanding of an afternoon
So solemn in guilt
Of what we have or have not done.
For the past hears the future under your electric voice and eyes that delight me not.
Excite me not.
To learn, to yearn, to sleep under trees and under sheets.
But in your sheets I am absent.
In these trees I do sleep.
And do I dream?
Thine own dreams shall dreamers be,
And enlist in the tides of mockery.
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 2:22 PM UTC
little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 2:18 PM UTC