Parallel paths we wander on,
glancing across every once in a while.
I feel your presence close,
but your eyes are cast down as you toil.
Your hands are too busy to hold,
your eyes are too full to see me.
A curve falls into view in the distance,
anticipation ties my heart; I count to three.
We collide in a thunderstorm,
lightning crackling in our souls,
fusing pieces of us to each other,
earth melting away into a black hole.
Rain pours over us,
but all we see is each other.
You and I push and pull,
but we stay joined together.
Time passes and we're spinning,
clocks and hands and lips and skin.
You take me to another world,
what century am I in?
The words that float off your lips,
they're like a drug I can't resist.
Who could have known
this moment we've sown
would have been born
of opposite curves in parallel roads?
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 12:47 AM UTC
Sometimes I see myself in the mirror as one would see a single celled organism under a microscope. Interesting, but small, and with very few defining features. Disappearing in the vast emptiness that is the universe and losing myself in it. I enjoy this sense of emptiness, enveloping me, draining away all that I feel. It's like an ice bath, removing the color from my cheeks and bringing me closer to the paleness of death, but not grey enough to be dead long. I am such a pretty corpse.
Sometimes I see myself in the mirror as a growing tree, my roots firmly planted in the ground, stretching my foliage up, up, into the sky to reach for things I should not be able to attain. I bear fruit for others to nourish their bodies, so they, too, will be able to reach the heights I can. I turn my leaves towards the sun, letting her color me vibrantly. I bask and I know exactly who and what I am, I know where I am going, I know I am strong.
Sometimes I see myself as a flame, dancing on the roots that held me grounded. When they release me from the earth, I shoot across the breeze and burn everything in my path. My friends and family reach out, to try to slow me down, but they burn themselves badly and recoil into their own spaces. I am alone, but my will to move too quickly outburns the will to realize the pain and destruction I'm leaving behind. I am beautiful, but I am singular.
Sometimes I see myself as a cloud, heavy with rainwater. I pass over dry lands and let myself fall upon them, quenching the thirst of a thousand drought years. I caress the hard dirt and sink into it, letting myself pool around rocks, and draining into the crevices until I become one with the ground I fell on. And then the sun beats upon me, and lifts me back up, and I am scattered into a million pieces within the sky. I am insignificant.
Sometimes I see myself as a white rose, symbolic of purity and innocence, but sown from the soil of doubt and despair. I hold within me the poison of the black dirt I came from, yet lovers pass me back and forth, promising forever. I shrivel up and die, long forgotten in a dry vase, on a kitchen table used only for piling junk mail. My petals litter the surface, and a passerby might toss me away. I will find the earth again.
Sometimes I see myself. But am I really myself? Who have I become in this whirlwind of people, places, and things? Who have I become, with war waging in my mind, different sides all righteous in their own ways. I am me. Aren't I?
Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 2:01 AM UTC
You tell me you love me
like it's what I need to hear
when reality sinks me
and my cries fall on deaf ears
You tell me you love me
when hatred spills from your lips
who i am sinks further down
until all that's left is my bleeding skin
You tell me you love me
as you pick up more soil
burying who I am as a person
while you deftly toil
You tell me you love me
but I'll never be the same
how can you love someone
when you've erased their entire being?
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 2:51 PM UTC
Today will be a good day when
you can look me in the eye again.
Today will be a good day
if you answer when I call your name.
Today will be a good day when
you pick up your phone.
Today will be a good day
if I go less than 3 hours without worrying about you.
Today will be a good day when
I see happiness light up your face.
Today will be a good day
If I hear from you at all.
I keep waiting
it's been months since I've had
even one good day.
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 7:33 PM UTC
I would deprive myself of sleep for weeks
Just to kiss the tears off your cheeks
Because no amount of slumber dark
Could mop the sorrow from your heart.
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
Do not fear you are transparent,
fading in to the background,
your heart is not shattered beach glass,
your life does not spin circles 'round.
You are a work of art,
layer upon layer of color,
A brilliant painted canvas,
a faceted and glowing heart.
When you fear you're disappearing,
disintegrating into the air,
But I see you clear as the light of day,
standing in front of me there.
No matter the scars
no matter the ****** up parts,
you will always be you,
And that's all I want.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 1:15 AM UTC
I could fall asleep in the hammock of your crooked grin,
but I haven't slept in weeks again.
I could drown in your eyes and end it all,
like the koi pond at my old home in the middle of fall,
I could live forever in your warm embrace,
only I can't seem to find the time or place.
I could break free of this moment in time,
but I might lose you forever,
and I just couldn't face tomorrow,
If you danced out of my mind.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 7:02 PM UTC
You are standing in front of me
though I'm not sure how you're still standing
with all of that metal hanging
from your shoulders to the ground.
You stand far off in the distance
and step back once
whenever I have advanced twice.
Your armor is like a mirror in which
I see my own reflection.
Eventually I reach you and
you falter and halt your retreat.
You are afraid, and you hold out your weapon.
I carefully touch the blade
It draws a drop of blood
It shines against the overused sword
Faraway you've named it.
Though it has yet to cut me in two.
I take the hilt in my hands
and lift it from your grasp
your hands fall to your sides,
grateful for the relief.
It is a dance between us again,
a step backward, and two against.
I am close enough to hear your warm breath
fighting with the cool metal
covering your face.
I reach out
and take the first buckle in my hand.
Piece by piece, it falls to the ground.
Layers take years to reach,
but your skin is lighter for it.
Down to chain mail and helm
you seem to be weak.
Your body exhausted from
the weight it has carried for so long.
Patience fills my heart as we dance again,
to and from,
back and forth,
but you are down on your knees now.
I lower myself to the ground
and lift with both hands
the split sphere around your face.
I am hit by wave upon wave
of unsteady, wild emotion
but I do not turn away.
chain mail is last to fall,
and there you are.
You are glowing hot,
red and orange and sometimes blue
and It burns my skin, but I hang on tight.
You blister me purposely
let go
But we are already fused.
You melt into a shaking
and tired mess in my arms
and then we stand.
And I don't love you any less for it.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
I'm sitting here wondering what you think of me.
That I'm weak and spineless. A loser for pushing you the way I did.
I probably am.
I know I'm bad for you, my selfish heart clinging to you like burrs to a cat's tail.
Cast aside when you tire of my presence.
I wrote you music that I sing to myself when I get lonely.
I remind myself that your happiness is more important than my own.
But my dear, losing you might just destroy me.
It might wither me away into nothing.
Like I never existed.
Like I've been broken into tiny pieces.
Small enough to be blown away
like dust in the wind.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
You sit in your chair
a record plays in the background
and I know what you're thinking.
You are silent, but your body is screaming.
Your hands folded across your chest,
chin tilted downward.
Your eyes don't meet mine,
but I can see the storm within them.
Your mind is a battlefield
where weapons clash and martyrs fall
you convince yourself
that you are alone
even though I am close enough to touch you.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC