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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.
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new
☞☎
It's quite easy
To pick up
The phone...
Please?
Stevie - your name is echoing as loud as your laugh through my thoughts
(Reverberating against each cinderblock wall in the hallway of my mind)
Making dreams of you to easy to lose; I awake drenched in sweat as if I had to swim laps around a lake created by my past mistakes.
Hoping for a hope of an exhausted sleep that will allow any type of mental escape from the memory of your face for now.
My eyes stare down upon this paper -where black pen ink kisses blue printed lines and cannot deny how dismal the ambition of my shivering soul has become knowing "home" is here even when the day is done.
Surrounded by bricks, brick talk, different licks &South Side spots.
I swim... alone for now. In this aquarium crowded with sea serpents who's shady intent is always apparent. Its possibly (actually most likely probably) by poise or tails told of incriminating feats. White walls. Mopped floors. White socks. ***** feet.
My pulse has to scream your name at my heart repeatedly or it will ceaseskip a beat and flounder low & get lost lost in this tiny fishbowl sea.
To understand statements made like "I miss you more than you know" (written) will never show even as and even though it's the emotion behind the letters sent that continues to grow (envelope&stamp 76cents).
I begin to become engrossed with fear that the same mind that amplifies my life with endless summer images of you is the same one (unkind) making semidark and never alone time, too much time before I realize...
Before I realize I dont know (how) - what to write
Typing
Deleting
Dreaming
Fearing
I forgot my thoughts and left my ability to write with my other personal items that are still 30 days out of sight.
Is it possible to finish something that may be a somewhat, sort uv'-a poem, even if you don't know where it begins? Where do I begin again?
I wish these wishywashy lines I try to describe could outline my heart and outlaw me trying to say "I love you, I miss you, I NEED you next to me my muse" so you can take away these shady midnight shadow trails of literature debauchery.
Feeling lost, my mind must have left to find its Soul... or maybe its Sole ability.
I forgot how to write.
So, now, I wish upon this fluorescent and never absent star, that these last letters placed together when read by you will caress your soul and. Gently.whisper. He loves her truly (and her of course my love is you).
His whisper of forever .
Always unable to sleep
Always unable to sleep
I stir Luke-warm caffeine in soup cup styrofoam hope
                              (It will catch up to me)
I sit awake like a secret in the only open corner
      Eyes wide & thoughts crawling
- I'm a midnight spider-
I make my words my web
     Each line I pull from my *** is filled with ambition and placed perfectly
               Looking
                                 "OH,
                                   SO
                           PRETTY" - These pages,
           my trap for future figures flying    
           around my mind
These pages, patiently sitting. Never tearing.
I wait upon them sitting still & listening to every weak sound, looking around through a million beady type eyes made of metaphors, analogies, intricate vocabulary and word placement profoundly used yet not ordinary to what is customary
      Lingering and waiting to prey upon     clever word play
(When caught(( I never play)) I suffocate)
Dress up and bleed out every last ounce of imagination for my souls completion- for the moment though only will this image stick to my lips as I whisp around my hardcover skeleton that once was life
&
I lick my fangs with congratulations
Leaving my mummified creativity for all other
                        f
                   LY
                         in
                               g thoughts to see
Quickly- flipping over a page and mending my web I wonder what pretty alien "life-type-anythings" may wander near
    SOMETIMES I WAIT DAYS ASLEEP FOR NIGHTS TO EAT
Tired&Starving at times-I expand my mind reading. Web-weaving and weaving expansion of web released sheets trying to create strength for when hollow winds howl and push big trophy sounds of that "FFFF-TTTTT-PPPttttt" quick flip from front to back paperback self published win of wings flapping past....
-Never Caught-
This mirage without sleep will puncture this white dream catcher just to lavishly sit next to me in the white light on the wall (taunting) for me see

Too tired at times to recreate or even crumple the page- maybe erase or start a new with a different pace
Or idea of mental entrapment in place
  
I look at my little caskets and creep back to the corner I came from and rest awaiting a new moon to break away
I lay knowing as I grow (to most) I am/and/or could be such a self righteous epitome of poetic fear
          Tucked in my corner
I lay awake
But die in my sleep
A hollow shell on the heap of
Dusty
Dead
Nothing.

Creativity created by my grandeur labor of love this poetic insomnia has left me to lie next to unoriginal thoughts I myself made mummies.
-it must be irony that has killed me-
It will be spring cleaning soon and will broom my body down and out only to make vacancy for another goosebumps giving creep to replace me
G Lachlan Curry Dec 2019
everything carries me to you"
my handwriting
her body
the perfection in simple affection causes a chain reaction
that's taken back, back before I knew the breath that will breathe upon my neck
...even back then my imagination of future foundation between us was seeming to be just a future of imagination and dreams.
no one seemed to make sense in the senseless nonsense we carried on with, yet we did it regardless
life lessons learned of Truth and pain and beauty and hate
the rage in wrong decisions always made opposite of our floating hearts that caused eyes always unable to ever depart from
simple stares that tore through bodies in hallways just to be noticed for brief moments
it was (and must I say about 2 life times ago) did I wondered where all this passion did go- till a slick Indian summer night my eyes caught reflection through liquor stained sidewalk puddles with an incidental interaction rebirthing all attraction of my soul.
my breath, along with all confidence i carried that night (and possibly years past, )vanished and left
at the moment when glances glared there were no longer the fire eyes staring like stars I had expected.
how could one think the same Jean jacket cigarette stink with hints towards a kiss looked more like a jab in my jaw as only absence in silence crawled from my mouth.
that night you carried past me and it
was as haunting as if you walked right through me.
how was I so numb to society I couldnt even feel my soul missing?
my soul missing, reminiscing of backseat young lovers kissing,
now pulling at each seam of anytime line I tried walk back up hoping for forgotten hope.


then instantly and all embarrassingly (but only to me) did I tightwire walk across town
looking for flight as my counting crows count down died down and flamingo dancers with grey guitars became pretty words that had amused but no longer moved because it wasn't the chorus or vocals -it was what was tattooed to my mental that made a muse -I remembered moving too and waiting to swoon but too soon did it come and go
I bet to lose and had to chose and chosing at 17 (so confused) was the worst thing my heart strings detaching would have to do.
but as years past and each pretty picture with a thought of "what if" past by my nightmare life I made of "what ifs", simple secret lines would drift and sometimes whisper
they would whisper and make the air more crisp than sea shore breeze on chapped lips (bring me back to where we would kiss) how could this be
happiness
uncertain for most is unimpressively the most renowned and complimenting place horror hangs hollow in fog shaped mirrors cracked with regrets...
but taped up, scared, scarred and silent so often terrified of my own inside voice -i paddled to Hades by choice- chasing cars from lyrics once with mixed with meaning , purpose, souls teeming and consciously tangled it seemed i began to drown in misery tag teamed with desparity cold and screaming.
the darkness only getting worse
the "if onlys" playing from start and starting over every time I roll over trying to sleep for more than a few minutes but to myself I always keep -I kept- I raged I wept, I broke down and then burnt myself alive to see if i could even for myself, maybe, mourn.
but one morning by some saving grace
a backyard walk to get some space led me back to your face.
so serendipitous at first thought
waiting for reality crash upon me and once again remind me of this life i fight and often lose.
but losing you again wasnt something I could bare to do...
even as I quitely awaited the gates of my misfortune to close I couldn't close my eyes with out you staring back at me. like fire in rain and a baptism cast in colors uncaught by even perfect prisms
this hell of a prison I understood as life decisions didnt have to bind the beauty beyond the cage once affiliated with.
wishing this poison carried a separate antidote for falling deeper for you again
I washed sin from within with whimsical laughs 800 miles away and breathtaking conversations spaces to far away.
all over
all over
all over and for once out of every second chance that could take a stand and stand the chance
I'll chance it all 3000 fold and over flowing to feel this overpowering presence of my hand written fairy tale dark Knight existence.
these grey eyes blue again, these blue eyes looking straight at you again
knowing what place is meant for me to fit in
my fears fidget themselves out of cares because all I can care about is this.
this moment even if not forever will never go treated unnoticed.
unrecognized or pardoned pushed aside or lost in the way side - my high tide, let me sink to the bottom of your soul for a second and fill your lungs with love again floating on top of waves crashing and flying past any hazy grey dismal day that spark you the way you are meant to glow.
where ever you go
everything carries me to you
not just your kiss but the dreams of your lips
not only your words, but the world you've found that forms them
it's more than your perfect imagine I've imagined asleep more than a million times
it's the smile I see when you are genuinly thinking about me
it's more than the giggles and good times awaiting to no surprise but fights and cries that haven't happened but will bring us closer and much stronger than... stronger than, stronger than the destiny that was meant to (so clearly now seen) be for all eternity
grains of sand cannot grasp the ineffable number of any type of anything trying to describe the unfathomable perception of clarity in your beauty and love.
my eyes will never burnout again
my will is for you and cannot give up again
my lips and skin are made only for you
my heart beats solely to match rhythm with your pulse so I know my way home
and my words will always uplift you and shine on you like the stars and sun
so you always feel safe and blanketed even when the light is gone and the day is done
I loved you yesterday
I love you today
And I'll love you forever and always
This poem is written to a woman who loves me and loved me since high school. We had a deep connection I never replaced. I always wanted to be with her but settled for comfort at the time. Now 15 years later we are still madly in love and have the same bond and relationship that brought us together when we were young.

— The End —