I get nervous when a flock of birds flies over my head
I get headaches if there isn't coffee brewing in the morning
I get excited when the power goes out
I get light headed when you kiss me on the lips
(in a good way)
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 11:10 AM UTC
Silent sighs pour into my coffee
Fingers tap a cigarette
Toes tap to a beating drum
One. Two. Three. Stop.
His eyes shift around the room
Sorting faces with forgotten names
This feels like home
But we all know it isn't
Twiddling thumbs and nervous laughs
Thoughts so random they hardly last
Violent scribbles on fragile paper
Secrets exchanged through rushing whispers
This feels like home
But we all know it isn't
Blank stares and feigned concern
Everyone searching: for truth
Everyone suffering: writers block
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 10:59 AM UTC
You were my sunshine
The only sunshine
You made me happy, even when your skies were grey
(But I failed to reciprocate
So much as a silver lining to your cloudy thoughts)
Darling, you never knew how much I loved you
(Did I even know?)
So you (left) took the sunshine away
May 5, 2011
May 5, 2011 at 10:21 PM UTC
He reaches for the door to enter the cafe
Right as he does, a woman on the other end shoves it open, nearly hitting him in the face
She manages to mutter a half-assed apology and strides by him
She smelled like cigarettes
He walks in and looks around for a trash can
As he goes to throw something away he sees a book on top of the pile of garbage
He picks it up and wipes the ashes off of its tattered cover
With a nod to the waitress he walks over and takes a seat at the only empty table
The seat is warm
He examines the book, turning it side to side
There is no title
There is no author
He shrugs and opens it to a page with the top right corner bent inward
In the center of the page his eyes are drawn to a word circled angrily in black ink
Patience
He takes out a red pen from his shirt pocket and underlines the word
I need to learn how to be more patient
His thoughts go off about the woman who had brushed past him
Was this her book?
He looks out the window to see her standing at the bus stop across the street
She turns her head in his direction and they make eye contact
"Is there anything I can get for you, sir? Perhaps a cup of coffee."
He hesitantly looks away from the woman and up at the waitress
She gives a concerned, but friendly smile
"Erm, no. I was just leaving."
He picks up his hat from the table and leaves with the book tucked under his arm
Feb 26, 2011
Feb 26, 2011 at 11:28 AM UTC
She dances with her toes pointed
Hands delicate
Arms flowing
Hair pinned up
He watches her with adoration
A bouquet of roses
Card neatly signed
Ring in his pocket
They watch as she moves across the floor
She spins around
Silent and graceful
Eyes shining
The curtain falls and the lights dim
Crowd cheering
Hands clapping
People standing
And behind the curtain, when nobody is watching
She kisses
The woman
Beside her
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 10:21 AM UTC
Its hard to fall in love with someone
When you can't learn to love yourself
Its hard to stand in just one spot
When you were obviously born to run
Its hard to tell people the truth
When you are constantly lied to
Its hard to remember faces and names
When you are always forgotten
Its hard to be proud of who you are
When everyone questions your dreams
But its harder to sit and do nothing
When everyone else is wrong
Jan 15, 2011
Jan 15, 2011 at 4:22 PM UTC
Don't touch me
Don't look at me in a funny way
Don't take too long to respond to a question
Don't walk slowly in front of me
Don't even breathe if you can help it
Don't talk too much
Don't laugh at my frustration to try and ease the mood
Just buy me some chocolate
Sit 5 feet away
And shut the hell up
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 8:36 AM UTC
I once knew a man who always spoke of his relationship between himself and his god
He told many great stories, and I could never tell if he was serious or not
Because most of them were about things I had never seen or heard of before
It didn't matter much anyway if the stories were true or just stories
Because they were incredibly interesting
I once knew a woman who was a vegetarian, meaning she wouldn't eat any meat
She said it was because she wanted to help save the animals and stop animal cruelty
And I could never tell if she was really helping the world or not, seeing as I was still eating burgers for lunch
It didn't matter much anyway if she was really helping the animals
Because she looked great
I once wrote you a letter about how much you meant to me
I said you meant more than anything in the world to me, and that I loved you very much
And you never could tell if I had meant what I said, because I wasn't good at expressing my feelings
It didn't matter much anyway if I couldn't show you how much I loved you
Because you weren't going to feel the same
Jan 10, 2011
Jan 10, 2011 at 7:41 AM UTC
Forgetful little flower
Only learned to follow
But never to follow through
With the little things
Like her dreams
He loves me, he loves me not
Was all she could think about
Jan 2, 2011
Jan 2, 2011 at 1:05 PM UTC
Tired eyes
Tired of tiring
Of straining to see
What the point is anymore
Everything lost its meaning
Nothing found its purpose
Jan 2, 2011
Jan 2, 2011 at 1:01 PM UTC