Despite people constantly explainings music theory
I’ve never quite grasped the concept
Of different keys.
Because to me
Something would feel sharp and
Fall flat but
Be all too natural to you

And I had difficulty trying to articulate what I meant to say
Because we had such an interesting dynamic
And dissonance is positive when done correctly,
Right?

Constantly, you played chords on my heart strings
Like the threads wound tightly against the pegs on your guitar.
Beautifully
But never gently
Rarely slow
With some fascinating sort of
Passion
But not always the kind that I understood

And despite believing that your interest was genuine
I sometimes wondered if you got as much of a rush from
Holding the curves of that wooden body close to you
As you did from thriving on the attention that you got
When people saw that you had the skill
To manipulate something ordinary into something unique.


And I’ll admit
It got into my head
And caused me to fret

Refraining from over-analysis
Has never been my forte.
But somehow we always managed to bridge the gap
That our differences created
And accented the qualities that really made us harmonious.

Hoping you would not hesitate to
Pick me and
Bend me and
Guard me and
Let the notes ring loud and frenzied and
Place your hands
Along my neck
To let me be the fine-tuned
Instrument
Of your affection.

With lungs andante
And a heartbeat accelerando
I’d leave it up to you to conduct
A tempo.
While the melody lead us
In an entanglement of musical phrases and lyrical nonsense
That all came together.

I suppose.

But don’t ask me why,
I never understood music theory
I just know what I like to hear.

there is a chill in my bones
the kind that cannot be rid of
by empty words of comfort

no amount of blankets
or wood in the fire can
bring warmth back to me

only when my frozen heart
begin to awaken by love
did the chill in me bones
fade like a distant memory

homesick for the little things-
a hello, for instance
-how was your day

can i just say-
small kisses
would go a long way
towards improving
the manor

i remember when-

i remember
small kisses
in a friendly manner-

granted
and planted-
and love mattered.

r ~ 9/24/14

“We” are becoming a game

A game of Hide my feelings
And Seek your touch

A game of Memory
While you memorize my curves
I memorize the curves of your smile

A game of ring around the truth
and let the thought of being together fall right down
my cheek as I cry from your words of
Guess Who doesn't love you

“We” have become that Puzzle
With the pieces that all look the same
And I’m not sure if our pieces fit together

One of those puzzles with the pieces that look like they’ll fit
But you won’t know for sure till you finish
But you aren’t sure you want to try hard enough to find out

A game where you Chute me that look
And I start to climb the Ladder
Even though I know I’m gonna have to slide back down eventually

A game where I constantly think about the sweet Candy that is you
and Land right back into reality
Knowing you’ll never get the Clue
And I’ll be the one who is Sorry
Even though I should have known you were Trouble all along

I’m starting to learn that this is Life
And the War with myself isn’t worth it
It isn’t worth
feeling like the Paper
While you are the Scissors
when really we are both stuck under this Rock

We just keep calling for Red Rover
to send sanity right over our way
so we can finally figure out the Monopoly of
Forged seduction

I’ll just continue to Go Fishing for the words
to unlock our mystery
so we can finally Connect
our Four arms together

‘We” are becoming a game
Where we are constantly Tagging
each other to be the one to say It first

A game where feelings are Cooties
and we have to Circle our brains
to find the Spot
Where we find out if we even have a Shot

You’ll just keep making me Tick
While I try to find a way
to Tack a label
Toe how I feel

Until I realise this is just Child's Play

whiskey whispers
sound like you

a burning smokey river
-fire down below

kiss my fever

whiskey whispers-
get me through.

r ~ 9/21/14

that trendy ******(e) addiction
becomes you- and your fiction

goes well with the pale
-skinned thin western booted
blue-eyed shooter
riding sidesaddle
on your scooter

does she kiss like me
and bring you coffee?

i could lay you both down
in the in-betweens
and make heaven-

til hell is heavy as a monday
track day in albuquerque
while she sells your jewelry
in sante fe where it's trendy

-i'll be waiting
on the blue mesa.

r ~  9/19/14

my thoughts run wild
as I sit in silence

I focus on my breath
and my thoughts go off
like pop-corn

I come to my breath and posture
I keep thinking about an itch
I can't reach

I keep coming back to my breath
and to this very moment