tell me what keeps you awake at 2 am
whether it’s the girl who took the knife of her absence and stabbed it into your sternum
or the loneliness that swallows your skin

play the one song which releases the floodgates in your eyes
and let me listen to it over and over again
until i find which line makes your heart drop to your stomach

describe the story of your body to me
tell me of the invisible scars too
and with each detail you describe
i will make a map
so i know which road bumps to avoid
or which holy sites to fall to my knees and kiss the ground of

remember that
i wear a mask brimming with self confidence and an armor of words that are both easy to tear for they were thin like tissue to begin with
i am sensitive
taking to hurt the way a sponge absorbs water

do not hide me behind closed doors or keep me entrapped in bed sheets
when you walk past me, do not pull your hood over your head and avert your gaze
i need you to look at my eyes as if they illuminated the entire world
and kiss my lips as if they are what allow you to breathe

open the door.
bring me flowers.
because the only boy who did either was my 5th grade boyfriend

be willing to meet my family and friends
for they were the ones who created the marble statue whom you marvel at today

take note of how my heart is a reflection of myself
how she is too kind and will kiss the same man who tore her in two
so please do not say words which will make her wings flutter
if you are not ready to be the nest she flies to

let me know that me, as myself, i am enough
that i do not need to be a chameleon
dipping myself in new colors each day to please you

remember the little things about me
like how my first phrase i uttered was shut up to a man in an elevator or the delight i take in handwritten letters and mix CDs, or the significance of my first tattoo
because everything about you is being etched into the walls of mind
so that i can never forget

trace your fingers with a loving tenderness over my scars from the times i transformed my body into a crucifix
pinning my hands and feet onto a cross out of habit
thinking love was a word synoymous with self sacrifice

you must learn my language
know what zips my lips into silence
know the difference between when i want to give up versus when i will actually do so
and be there to hold me when the seams start to unravel

if you want me to love you
know that many have tried and failed
that people like me are not meant to be soft
if you want me to love you
know that to me
love is not a word you spit out of your mouth and juggle in your hands
you need to promise that our love won’t be like an hourglass
for my body has been disfgured enough from the times my chest turned inside out from the pang of abadonment
if you want me to love you
reaffirm my body is a kindgom, my heart is the treasure, and that i am your queen
paint pictures for me in what you do and say
telling me i am worthy to be loved, worthy to be kept, and worthy to stay

but if you really want me to fall in love with you
tell me what you see right before you close your eyes at night to fall asleep
and if you tell me it’s me
i will fall unfathomably further for you than i already have

i want you if
even for the
shortest moment
of time
even if knowing
our hellos
will also be
goodbye.

i want
you

to hold me.

Since I could remember
My heart has balanced
Along such a thin line
Of right and wrong
Love and hate.
The line already stretched
To the extremes.
Taught with fear and uncertainty.

Tension reached its maximum
When that day came 'round.
Ever since that day
When I learned the truth.
The day my eyes were forcefully
Peeled open by dull razors.
That day the line faded
And the tight rope snapped.

With no line to follow
My heart fell.
Now concussed,
Delirious and confused.
My heart wanders between worlds.
Never certain of who it is
Where it was or
How it should be.

-Kevin Robert Rose

Regrets, they come in waves and break around his feet
And he begins to wonder who he might have been
Had roads diverged in different woods and fields
Not yellow or yet any colour still unseen
But clearer now by day than windless nights
Still nearer than the objects of his dreams

It'd rained late into the evening, and when the lights were shaded
Around the pool outside and with the windows shuttered
He'd thrown on loose clothes, flicked open an umbrella
While high outside the stars the lightning flashes muttered
Pulled open doors that led to the veranda
And moved outside once more with all his thoughts unuttered

The smoke, from fires on Java lies heavy on his senses
An omen of the time of year and of the past condition
He shrugs, ***** in the acidic nighttime odors
Reviving lives not lived but revealing his admission
That time beyond the present that mirrors every movement
Within, without, and yet again, the flicker of suspicion.

The pistol in his pocket, illegal not unloaded
A symbol of his state of mind and by  his sole discretion
He kneels beside the water, deep-set and in the shadows
Lips forming wordlessly around the last confession
Images of where and what and who and why and whether
A portent of that final action, sensing and impression

The smoke from fires on Java lies heavy on the water
The reek of cordite mixing with the smell of burning grasses
Indignant birds protest the crack of one small set expulsion
The echo round the swimming pool reverberates and passes
Nothing more and nothing less and time and space and matter
Slick red upon the treacherous tiles, the shattered bloodied glasses.

When I was eight years old,
I overlooked a moment of compassion
And challenged the will of a fellow third grader
Compelled by my ignorance
She gave the most astute summary of my life ever uttered.

When I was eight years old,
A frizzy haired girl asked me an impudent question
A question of infinite importance:
How do you sleep?
How do you sleep at night, since you know yourself?

When I was eight years old, my arrogant mind brimmed with resentment
Reaffirming that I,
I, apart from my arrogance,
Was the best person I knew.

I was eight years old, and a prophet had spoken.

Eight years later,
I long to be swallowed by the sheets
Eyes stare mockingly at the dormant ceiling
Clinging to the handrails
As my train of thought
Careens off the tracks
Exploding in a cloud of terror and regret

Eight years later,
I long for the simple arrogance of my eight year old mind
I long to close my eyes
And remember nothing

Because today,
Today I am sixteen
And tomorrow I will be twenty-four
And the next day I shall be eighty

When I'm eighty,
I'll stare at the bleached walls
Succumbing to the force of the past
As it consumes the present.

When I turn eighty-eight,
I'll look to the end of my starched bed
And He shall smile
Saying, "Well done!"

I hope I lie, when I'm eighty-eight,
Because If I am honest
If I tell the truth
I do not know who he is
And I never have
I will be cast away
because, eighty years before,

When I was eight years old,
I was arrogant
But still innocent
eighty years from death
and eighty years from shame
I could have heeded those words
The words of the frizzy haired girl

When I was eight years old,
I could have decided
I could have had him sing me to sleep
I could have died entirely unlike myself.

Now that I'm sixteen,
I still do nothing.

Something happened this morning
when I awoke to you lightly breathing.
It was sublime.
My chin rested on your shoulder
the skin so soft on my cheek.
I couldn’t help but kiss the sweetness.

On nights when I sleep alone
it does not matter how many blankets
wrap my restless body.
I wake cold.
Nothing is as warm as your arms.
Like that of a Texas breeze
on an August night.

I can only think to kiss
your unshaven face.  
The kisses are planted gently,
first your cheek,
then your temple,
and your forehead,
when I come to the tip of your nose
you stir slightly,
but I cannot stop.
I want it more then
the ocean waves need
the shoreline to crash upon.

Looking at your face
I smile at the odd way we met.
With a breath of *** and an intoxicated
grin we spoke.
“I don’t like you”
“Yea? Well I don’t like you first!”
Like children picking
on their first crush.
Tying to fight back the giggles.
Our childish ways still
run strong.

In your absence I sit
and watch the ticking minutes
laugh at my uneasiness.
Hours with others
are mere minutes with you.
The clocks envy
our cherished time
and tick-tock more rapidly
when we are alone.
All our time
would never be
enough.

When we get lost in each other,
the way the lonely roadrunner
looses himself as he runs
up and down
the oak covered hills,
it is love at its best.

This morning
when the soft breathes
you took woke me
and my chin rested upon
your shoulder,
something happened.
As the kisses fell
and your eyes continued to sleep;
I realized that this
is where I belong.
Drifting slowly  
into love with you.

The brain is a pretty rad little doodad. Sitting atop your neck, buzzing with blood and budding thoughts like an apple tree in spring.
I think it's fascinating that we're still quire clueless as to how it really works.
There's one particular part that still fascinates me, namely, memory.

Memories are the cranial equivalent of keeping a diary or writing in a journal. a collection of feelings and happenings of days gone by and words once said.
There are a few journal entries, if you will, that stand out to me. Ones I made with a girl... let's call her B.

If B were here right now, I'd look her in her big brown eyes and ask her:

Do you remember?

Do you remember the divine way the curves of your body fit into mine was we lay in an amorous embrace amongst the blankets and downy pillows?

Do you remember the way I told you a million times that I loved your hair. Your angelic, graceful hair, even though you thought it was too long and too messy?

How we walked through the forest for hours, talking about nothing and nonsense, and how we sat on a log for what seemed like eternity until I manufactured enough courage to finally kiss you?

They say that elephants never forget, and every time you cross my mind I feel my nose getting a little longer and my skin turning a little greyer.

Do you remember? Because I sure as hell do.

Do you remember how adorable you looked in those pajama pants of mine that were about a foot too long for you because you forgot to bring your own?

Do you remember how we sat on a bench and watched the birds flit from feeder to feeder as the sun waved us a crimson farewell?

Do you remember the feeling of your lips upon my lips, and the simple fact that it is impossible to properly describe that in any banal combination of 26 tired characters?

Do you remember the bittersweet intermingling of the smells of my eighty dollar cologne and your forty dollar shampoo?

Do you remember the way we looked into each other’s eyes? The vast universes of possibilities leaping from neuron to neuron behind those irises?

Wonderful memories. Pleasant memories. You couldn’t ask for anything better than these kind of memories. But there’s more. And there’s a reason why they’re just memories.

I remember the way the blood drained from my face like your used bath water circled the drain in my bathtub, and how my heart went on strike and stopped beating when you told me we couldn’t be together.

I remember how similar the crunch of the leaves and twigs under our booted feet sounded to the cracking and shattering of my sanity as you drove away on that sombre day.

I remember all of the dreams my brain pumped out of its pitiful pineal gland in a futile attempt to travel back in time.

I remember the empty spot in my bed and the gaping and gushing hole in my heart that still exists
To
This
Day.

But for all of these melancholy memories, these rotten ruminations, the beast of anger has yet to rear its matted mane.

In fact,

I thank you.

I thank you for this sadness, this regret, this longing, and this acute absence of rage,

For it is proof that I am alive.

I thank you for this sorrow, for this awful ammunition, for inspiration to machine masterpieces from the melancholy.

For what is light without darkness?

What is life without death, and love without loss?

So thank you.

I look back on our shared seconds not with eyes full of misplaced malice and fury,

But with gratitude.

Because even through tragedy

The heart survives.

Sit back. Relax. Take a breath. Take a minute. Take a hit. Take a drink. Take a sting. Take a shot. Take a line. Take a day. Take a time. Take a mental Picture. Take a pill. Take something you've always wanted. Sit back and chill..

Sit back, watch the ashes, their crumbling down.
Keep your head in the sky. Keep your feet on the ground.
Keep your buzz going. Don't ever come down.
Keep your face smiling and don't ever frown.
Keep the toxins flowing. Keep your head held high.
Keep your thoughts clear. Stop wondering why.
Keep your hopes up. Drink that whiskey and rye.
Keep moving yourself forward. Live life 'til you die.

Sit back, watch the ashes. They fall to the ground.
Take a listen to the birds, its a beautiful sound.
Take a minute, sit back, watch the world go around.
Take a look at the sky, so vast and profound.
Take a drag of your cigarette, and let yourself go.
Take notice of your freedom, and let the wind blow.
Take off your winter coat, go with the flow.
Take off your mask, let your true colors show.

Sit back, watch the ashes as they land on the earth.
Feel the rediscovery, and feel the rebirth.
Feel the wind on your fingertips, for what it is worth.
Feel the world, what it is, it's incredible girth.
Feel yourself drift away, feel the grass on your toes.
Feel the sun on your face, feel the wind as it blows.
Feel the love in this world, as it blooms, as it grows.
Feel the light on your soul, see the beauty it shows.

Sit back, watch the ashes, their coming, their due
Realize, though, that it's beautiful too.
Redo all of the things, that you love to do.
Remember there's people that truly love you.
Replay all of the memories that make you smile.
Revisit your best friends, and chill for a while.
Resign from your deviance, cunning, and guile.
Relax in recumbence, sit back, reconcile.

The ashes will soon, cover all of this land.
Theres nothing to stop it, no curing command.
Theres someone who loves you, so go hold their hand.
Theres a shortage of love in this world of demand.
Theres only one thought that comes into my mind.
Theres nothing new out there, theres nothing to find.
Theres everything I need, right here, am I blind?
Theres people who love me, people of my kind.

So the world can go ahead and crash down around me, I'll just look Away. I'll just take a look at the things I love.  I'll just take notice of the beautiful Day.
I'll just take another shot, I'll just sit in the beautiful green Grass. I'll just look up at the sky and let the ending pass.
I'll just be sitting with the people I love, and we'll be letting our true colors Show. We'll be feeling the grass on our toes, and letting the beautiful wind Blow.
Get ready to watch the rest of the world fall to pieces. To watch the ashes fall. Prepare for the Show.  But Don't worry...Just Sit back, relax, and let the last of that beautiful wind Blow.

____

Fall with me. Drop with me. Drop like the rain descending from the pregnant clouds overhead.  Fall like an avalanche, free and uncontrollable. Fall like the waterfall, endlessly powerful.  Fall with the world, but not in disgrace, we're falling like leaves into a beautiful place.  We're falling into eternity… discomforting but true. So enjoy the descent, it's the least you could do, for out of this fall comes a beautiful view...

Fall with the leaves. Fall peaceful and slow
Forget everything that you don't need to know
Form truces with enemies, befriend every foe
For now is the time to let everything go
Forbidden are thoughts of a peaceful demise
Forsaken, the image of peace in disguise
Forgive all the subtle and meaningless lies
Forego a renewal, re-open you're eyes

Fall with the Rain drops, now finally freed
This is the beginning of the end indeed
This peaceful decline may be just what we need
This fall from our old withered branches of greed
This pressure discharged… our old ways replaced
This wind now uplifting, this beauty embraced
This Government Tangle, this Empire, erased
This Is the End of the struggles we've faced

Fall with the Waterfall, Establish your voice
Pro-life… Pro-love… Pro-strength… Pro-choice
Protest your opinions, don't let them devoice
Progress now possible, so revel, rejoice
Provide the necessities, laughter and love
Produce something new, something unheard of
Proclaim your new freedom, and wake with the dove
Promise to fall with the rain from above.

Fall with the Avalanche, plush and severe
Don't let the ending take hold of your fear
Don't forget, there's people that still love you here
Don't let these people, your friends, disappear
Don't be afraid now…  The grass is still green
Don't take your eyes off the beautiful scene
Don't let your colors be shaded unclean
Don't let the distance grow vast in between

Fall with the ashes that cover this earth
Be Born Once Again, re-discover rebirth
Believe in true beauty, for what it is worth
Beware of this world, its incredible girth
Below you are roots from which you can grow
Beyond the Horizon is the end as we know
Belong To A Bigger Picture, go with the flow
Become something less…  Sit back… Watch the show.

Fall with the ashes, but not in disgrace. Finally we can escape from this place. The government gone, the Empires erased.  We can Fall with the raindrops, with beauty embraced.
Take off your masks, let your true colors Show. Let the sun shine bright, let the moonlight glow.  Revisit your best friends, Let yourselves go.
and let the very last of that beautiful wind blow…