I would give everything
Just to go back in time
Her body laying next to mine
We’d chant melodies and sing
We’d sing harmonies in sync
We’d sink poetry with 2 minds
2 minds born to cry
Hey body by my side
She’d hear my sound mind
My mind full of sounds for her

some seem so easy to fall for
some seem so hard to fall for
why do i always seem to fall for
those who seem so hard to fall for
but so easily
?

When words can’t say what you want them to
when your failures resound an anthem or two
I find your tongues more appealing than news
about the location of other phantoms or blues

When lines don’t line up the way I want them to
when I’m left heart-shattered at the peak of noon
Interrogation starts on our quarrelsome revenue
turning into May – is this a “hickie or a bruise”?

But may I ask you – not that I may not – I do
want to know – is this a “hickie or a bruise”?
Is it love is it a fight we put up because I blew
up all the sadness in your discs of jazzy blues?

But may I add to your sorrow a pinch of red hue?
would that enable us to create baby violets in lieu
Of blue depression or red violence – I want you
but wouldn’t choose between a hickie or a bruise

The color violet may be hard for you to value
when things suddenly emerge from the soil to
Bring forth new & renowned substantial food
it might seem like the plants speak in Hebrew

The bruises I tailored for you are hidden in the zoo
wandering preying ‘fore its attempt to ooze on you
But only when the lines line up & words overused
do they finally say my love what you want them to

The wings of butterflies let the sun shine through
now we know this is not a bruise
But a sun-kissed glow
it’s you
-

you moved overseas
so far away from me
but before you left
you left your heart &
your sweater jacket for
me to keep in my arms
when i sleep – or can’t

there are times when
you find it difficult to
speak so i tell you to
simply breathe in and
out as i hear you fall
asleep on the phone &
hug that heart of yours

other moments we’d
share snapshots of our
best & worst moments
but those are just images
photographs in 2d not 3
so the only way to give
life to them is by smell

you spray my presents
with the scent of your
cologne for me to feel
a little closer to you
to feel as though i’m
in the same room as
your warmest smile

lately you have been
busier than ever but
never too busy for me
aren’t you a little crazy
to go against dramatic
time zones just to talk
instead of sleeping

it’s okay gentleman
i don’t need constant
words flooding in and
out of our message box
your smell is enough &
rooted in my memory
and i’m reminded that

you’re more than a
pretty boy trying to
get all the girls into
your green backyard
you have a light on the
fingertips of the ways
you speak intentions

but i thank you all the
same for keeping your
green backyard green
maybe one day i’ll be
the one to enter in it
but for now you should
keep sending me scents

I was warm
always warm
I tried to make you laugh
i couldn’t make you cry
No tear would melt
from your ice cube eyes
Because you’re cold –
you weren’t always cold
I didn’t know how
to pierce through your stone
I wasn’t sharp
not sharp enough
But i thought i had
an instrument sharp enough
I then knew that my warmth
couldn’t melt through stone
But maybe it could’ve
at least melted your ice
Surface sigh
they say that fire melts ice
So maybe warmth
could overthrow frosty snow
But i guess i was wrong
to even test your cold
Because maybe fire is
capable of melting ice
But that doesn’t mean that
warmth can overthrow cold
Try to picture this image
i’d like to color – in white
If you place a vulnerable warmth
on an iceland of snow
Surely the blizzard wind
will suffocate the warmth and
The warmth will become cold  
– this feels like a retelling
Now i’ve grown cold
towards your distant show
There’s nothing growing
on our trail covered with snow
I was a fire but now i’m cold
and you remained this way
Now both of our hearts
are cold towards each other
Because it’s elemental
this glassy window
From which i can see
the other side – there you are
But it’s blocking me
from getting closer to you
Maybe because i’m still
a little bit warm & sunny
But our trail of snow
has been blocked by the window
Now i’ve become distant
towards your photo
Like an unreachable memory
too blazing to unfold
Nostalgia for the warmth
we once had for each other
But now our hearts have
grown cold towards each other
Because you said & i said
that we must guard our hearts

you’ve got the most delicate hands
i’ve ever felt on my inner chest.
i’m breaking apart,
completely shattering to pieces;
it might be a release, it might bring me peace,
bits & pieces, put them back together.
my legs are shaking from the cold;
you passed me your jacket.
but, this is no ordinary jacket,
it’s like a band-aid wrapped around my soul.
and maybe for a moment or a glimpse,
i let go of the past and thought,
“maybe it won’t hurt this time.”
but, i’m still shattered
and breaking to bits & pieces;
i’m breaking apart,
maybe so that i can be put back together…
properly, so that i can birth out nations & stories.
no matter how much this hurts,
no matter how much my heart is aching,
the sound is echoing,
“i want to know you more.”
i freaking want to know you more!
should i surrender?
is it even possible for me to surrender?
you can see through my skin,
you know that it’s like a storm within.
but all it takes is a hurricane –
you’re that hurricane –
to overthrow me.
is that too much to ask for?
can you shake me?
can you slap me out of this?
slap me out of my skin!
but you said, “no, i’ll do this gently.”
are you gonna tell me that it takes time?
i know you say i’ll be fine,
as long as i’m wearing the soul jacket.
ugh! surrender. surrender. surrender.
you said, “healing takes time.”
sometimes the truth hurts more than the lie,
but do i want to be lied to?
the truth doesn’t hurt!
because change is necessary.
and what i’ve dug myself into,
i know you’ll drag me out of my pity hole.
“stop hiding your heartburns and
the holes ******* in your heart.”
soul jacket, this is one heck of a special jacket!
feels like protection.
it feels better than muscular arms around my waist
from a guy who’s three-four years older;
feels better than beer chugged down
trying to pass for stronger liquor;
feels better than trying to numb myself
with “don’t make me sad / don’t make me cry.”
don’t get me wrong, i still love the song born to die.
but maybe this time,
i’ll have to cross out that line;
and instead i’ll write:
“born to thrive.”
because that’s how your jacket makes me feel.