Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Skeltons of houses once loved dance away,
Piercing in and out of view by the trees,
Which fill and grow from the life given.
Breaking down the body in whole.

Given by life now buried underneath.
Life that had a name, a face, a family.
A person who once thought more was out there,
And fell beneath it all to let it grow.
In the prime of me, I set my sail.
Ive shut out chance, or time to love.
My bones crave the new, the life not lived,
and the roads in ground of people not known.
A tide of fear swept over, whenever I can dream,
of my life being more than me.
The feeling I keep inside bones, will last until I move my home.
With each breath pressed on,
by the tips of your fingers.
My skin oxidates and peels away.

With every hand me down kiss,
and empty frame of mind.
My heart beats less and less.

With any time I turned away,
to thoughtless tries of change.
My head wished to do the same.
In void of you I set my course,
because of you,  my sight unclear.
In hopeless twists of love and trust,
to where I lay my time and space.

My time is suttle, I need not know.
Its lays in seas, too far from reach.
But seeps into my scars and bone,
Like gas in fire, all at once.

The space I lay is closing up,
like lungs of tar, that fill me in.
broken pieces of you left behind,
to where I lay my space and time.
April doesnt hurt here
Like it does in New England
The ground
Vast and brown
Surrounds dry towns
Located in the dust
Of the coming locust
Live for survival, not for 'kicks'
Be a bangtail describer,
like of shrouded traveler
in Textile tenement & the birds fighting in yr ears-like Burroughs exact to describe & gettin $
The Angry Hunger
(hunger is anger)
who fears the
hungry feareth
the angry)
And so I came home
To Golden far away
Twas on the horizon
Every blessed day
As we rolled And we rolled
From Donner tragic Pass
Thru April in Nevada And out Salt City Way Into the dry Nebraskas And sad Wyomings Where young girls And pretty lover boys
With Mickey Mantle eyes
Wander under moons
Sawing in lost cradle
And Judge O Fasterc
Passes whiggling by To ask of young love: ,,Was it the same wind Of April Plains eve that ruffled the dress
Of my lost love
Louanna
In the Western
Far off night
Lost as the whistle
Of the passing Train
Everywhere West
Roams moaning
The deep basso
- Vom! Vom!
- Was it the same love
Notified my bones As mortify yrs now
Children of the soft
Wyoming April night?
Couldna been!
But was! But was!'
And on the prairie
The wildflower blows
In the night For bees & birds And sleeping hidden Animals of life.
The Chicago
Spitters in the spotty street
Cheap beans, loop, Girls made eyes at me And I had 35 Cents in my jeans -
Then Toledo
Springtime starry
Lover night Of hot rod boys And cool girls A wandering
A wandering
In search of April pain A plash of rain
Will not dispel This fumigatin hell Of lover lane This park of roses Blue as bees
In former airy poses
In aerial O Way hoses
No tamarand And figancine Can the musterand Be less kind
Sol -
Sol -
Bring forth yr Ah Sunflower - Ah me Montana
Phosphorescent Rose
And bridge in
fairly land
I'd understand it all -
I'd say you're some kind of fairytale
One that showed up just in time to heal the bumps and bruises I'd picked up on my way to meeting you.
I'd say until then, I'd never believed in magic
That it's the only way of explaining the electricity that exists between us in a room full of people.
I'd say your eyes are the scariest ride I've ever been on
Because looking into them feels a lot like free-falling and unspoken secrets and coming home all at the same time.
I'd say my favourite memories are the ones with you in them
And how is it possible that you look just as beautiful to me today as you did back then?
I'd say everything I've been meaning to for all these years
Or maybe I wouldn't say anything to you at all.
He found himself with painted walls, fish tanks, and a wiener dog.  A place to sleep, a place to eat, a fine couch to rest his feet.  A barbecue that was sturdy and new, a fridge of craft beer the finest of brew.  But aside all the comforts and things on the walls the one thing that was most comforting of all, was a little blonde who would follow him around, who turned him right-side up when he was upside down.  A girl who was worried about only him; and tried everything to set him free.  Free of a troubled mind that could not find the time for anyone but him.  No matter her struggle, her talks, or her love, he would not cave to all the above.  It came to the point where she had to go, she'd lost the person she loved the most. She left in a blink with her head in the fog, taking the pictures, fish tanks, and the wiener dog.  The girl that knew him oh so well could not save him from an imprisoned hell.  The self-inflected wound that would not mend; but conform as the standard of life he led.  A blank canvas is all that he knew, no pictures on the walls, no new barbecue.  No more snoring at night or meeting for fun, this fairy tale was finally done.  It passed so fast and looking back was it worth it for where he's at? Is this the place where he should be?  Two job's, school, and a shattered dream. She was his love, his hope, his home, and now it's just him all alone.
I wish that I could breathe
I wish that you were here
I wish that you had fought for me
Instead of giving in to fear

I wish that I was worth it
I wish that you could see
The love we have is something rare
And you belong with me

But...

What's the point in wishing
When they never, ever, come true
What's the point in living
When I'm not with you
Next page