Beads of sweat ,
Breath down necks,
And the prayer
That this is destiny
For more than a few minutes.
Perhaps at least two of us
Will outlive our teenage lust
And find out what it means to love.
The rest of us
Will all stay stuck
And marry some pretty face
Belonging to a person
We will never know.

I think I was only ever in love
With the thought of you.
I fall in love with many thoughts.
Thoughts of creating,
Thoughts of death and immortality,
Thoughts of hell
And dangerous mystery men.
Yet I remind myself to separate it:
Wants and Thoughts,
Thoughts and Wants.
They are not one in the same.
I like to think that I did not forget
To pick apart this time.
That I did not confuse you
As a thought but not a want
Or a want but not a thought.
I had hoped I got it right.
But this morning I woke up
And realized
I don't want to be your baby anymore.

Oh Mama, sweet Mama
I wish I could do better
These times when I have to be the backbone
Because you are in your room crying.
Oh Mama, sweet Mama
I feel so much like a child at these times.
These times when I play your role,
Adequate wife and nourishing mother.
Oh Mama, sweet Mama,
I am not fit for such a burden.
I hate to disappoint you,
But I fear I fail where you need me.
Oh Mama, sweet Mama,
I feel so old even now.
But someone has to do it.
Because if he carries on
The way he does,
It will surely **** you.
And if "mother" does not carry on
In the house,
He will **** himself.

I never intended to lose you that night.
I was wasted out of my mind--
Treating my young irresponsibilities
With more irresponsibility.
They said you left crying and in a daze.
In a certain sense,
I'm glad I didn't see you.
Not like that.
It would have broken me.
I just can't help but think,
That if I had,
Would I instead have held you through the night,
Before I let you become a victim of the night?

I'm so sorry.

I can do one night stands,
And I can do ever afters.
But this in between you wish for
This thing you call "relationship"
Makes me cringe and shut my eyes.

Leave me.
Please leave me.
Because I could never leave you.
But I know
That as long as we are together
I will only ever keep hurting you.
I love you.
Jon, I love you so much.
I wake up, and I think of you
Before I even think about breathing.
I would die for you
Without hesitation.
I really do mean that.
But every day I wake up
And I resent myself more and more
For the many ways
That I have hurt you.
Hurting you
Was the very last thing
I ever intended to do.
I would die before
I ever intended to hurt you.
And yet I have done it.
And continue to do it.
I don't deserve you.
I can't even pretend to deserve you.
Please.
Please leave me
Before I ever hurt you again.
Oh my sweetest,
I have never loved anyone
The way I love you.

Fall into these arms,
My darling.
Rest your head on my chest.
Never mind the words you spoke
That hurt me so,
I am aware of only your pain.
Under my breath
I repeat the prayer
For God to take it from you
And lay it on my shoulders,
To allow you silence of mind
For just a few moments.
Close your eyes now,
My sweetest.
There is no one left.
Just you and I
In a night of still darkness.
Fall asleep now
On my breast
And be still,
Be still,
As I breathe you in
And you breath in I,
In a long-waited quiet calm,
With nothing but two hearts beating,
And one broken soul.

We lie here with our loved
In the dampest of fields
Amid the days
When the dawn and sunset quarrel.
The guns are heard echoing in the fields,
"Mark
And
Take
And
Break."
And we who were loved
When the sky was still grey
Sleep in the fields,
Short lived,
Dead and Gone.

The morning breeze
Eats away at my cigarette
Before my lips even touch it.
Looks like a storm is coming,
And God I hope one is--
It would be nice to know
That someone as significant
As the planet
Is feeling the same way I am.
The morning dew
Soaks from this porch step
Onto my jeans,
And I consider all the expectations
I never met.
My fingertips turn to icicles,
Despite a light being inches away,
As I stare at the stream
And wonder if Andy really did jump that night.
I think of saying goodbye,
Running away from marrying a stranger,
Hoping to be a cobweb in somebody's life,
Catching every little thing
That floats by.
But instead here I am,
Lost in time none the less,
After all the lies I told Adam,
And wondering if I could only see the ocean,
Would he choose to forgive me.

I used to yell
And fight back.
Until I realized
That you hate it much more
When I remain silent
And perfectly still.

Like a statue.

What hurts me most
Is not knowing
Your heart has no desire for me.
What hurts me most
Is not the knowledge
That I will never have you.
What hurts me most
Is knowing
That the one who has you
Will never truly love you
Just for who you are.
Oh I know she will love your beautiful parts.
She will laugh at your jokes,
She will live for your body,
She will smile at your crazy, carefree antics.
But she will never love your ugly parts.
The parts you hide away from her.
The parts of you I know.
What hurts me most
Is knowing
That she will grow irritated
By your bizarre, obsessive habits.
What hurts me most
Is the knowledge
That she will learn to hate
Your shaking, angry lip.
What hurts me most
Is knowing
That there will be nights
When you fall asleep
With the person beside you
Never telling you
That she loves
Every dark part,
Every lovely part,
Every strange part,
Every joyous part,
Every monstrous part,
Every part of you that makes up you.
Every part of you
That I love
(And I love,
And I love,
And I love)
Behind my silence
And pleasant facade.

Why am I still doing this?
The road no longer offers
What I had hoped it would offer.
I ran out of my money weeks ago,
And the only money these gigs offer
Are just enough to get me
To my next gig.
Every morning I wake up inside my car,
Frost on my windshield and hair,
Not sure where I'm going next,
But not ready to go home.
I smoke some stranger's
Thrown away half cigarette for breakfast ,
And put all of my trust
In Paul Simon and Adam Duritz
To get me to my next stop alive.
I haven't written a new song in months,
And all the ones I keep playing
Have grown old and stale--
Maria being the only song I can still sing
With passion.
Yet I keep doing it,
My todays following my yesterdays,
Each day a shadow of the last.
I found an old Carole King CD
Underneath my passengers seat,
And I let it remind me that someone
Is still riding next to me.
Reno sounds nice.
I might go there next.
I pop in the CD,
Hoping to find some comfort,
But all I hear is Carole's voice
Reminding me of everyone
Who is still so far away.

We don't talk all that much these days.
In fact, we don't talk at all.
But I'll never forget
When we were kids
And our secret dream,
To run away together.

The dream grew brighter
When it turned into a plan.
We had our bags packed and ready to go.
A pair of jeans and a sweater,
My guitar so we could busk,
One **** dress in case times got hard,
And the money
Your mother hid in her dresser.
We'd take the train,
Get the hell out of here,
And never look back.
We said I'd cut my hair,
So they would never find us.

We never quite knew
What we were running away to be.
Rockstars, hookers,
Crackheads, or movie stars.
We didn't care.
We were young and wanted an out,
And the city
Was calling our names.

We never did run away.
I guess I knew all along
That we never would.
But I don't regret any of it.
Any of the planning,
Any of the dreaming.
Because that dream,
That hope of an out,
The idea of there being an escape
No doubt kept me going.

I still think about you often,
And our run away dream.
We were dreamers alright.
Or maybe we just hated this town.
Maybe we were just young.
Maybe we read too many books
And watched too many movies.
Or maybe it all goes back
To that same song.
The one where he stands outside
Her bedroom window
And begs her to come outside.
"Come outside,"
He'd say,
"Come outside.
Out the window,
Down the fire escape,
And run away with me."

I'm trying to feel at home here.
Sitting in your kitchen,
Staring across at you,
Dipping my fingers
In this lavender pool
And adorning my fingertips
With candle wax hoods.
It's been three months
And I'd thought I'd be better by now.
But your lights still seem too yellow
And your milk still tastes like water.

You're busy reading the back of your new album,
And I think you've forgotten I'm here.
Your grandmother sobs
In the room next to us.
I take two deep breaths
Of the custard air in the room
Before I can quietly say,
"Um. Your grandmother is crying again."
A pause.
"She does that alot,"
You say, never once looking from your album.
"Oh."
I allow the space between us to fill again.
"W-why does she do that?"
A pin just dropped.
"She just does.
Every time she thinks of Palisades Park.
Which is often."
"Oh."

Something inside of me feels sad.
Something inside of me is angry at you
For not caring.
Why don't you go to her
And tell her it's alright?
Remind her that the mail comes again tomorrow,
And maybe she'll have something in the morning.
But no.
You don't even move.
I look down at this candle,
Cratered like the face of the moon.
I stand up and walk out.
You don't even notice.

The lamp is the life support of this room,
Barely giving light in orange tones,
Your grandmother a lump on the couch.
I stare at her from a distance,
In this room that does not feel like home either.
Slowly and nearly tip-toed, I approach the couch.
My body is shaking,
But I sit down beside her.
She does not turn, she does not stir,
But she tries to hush her sobs.

I’ve tried to feel at home here.
But no matter how many times your mother says it,
“Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”
I still feel the need to ask permission
To even turn on the TV,
And your father is still
The single most intimidating man I know.

This isn't home.
This will never be.
The itch will always stay.
Forever will I long for my staircase,
And the study,
And my home.
I try, but this is not home.
I look at your grandmother once more,
Seeing bits of her break
With each sob.
I reach out and hold her hand,
"It's alright,"
I say,
Though nothing is alright.
"It's alright,"
I say,
"It's okay."

Does it so much matter
Who we are
As it matters that we are.
That we are at all,
Anything at all??
For I am content,
With a blind existence,
As long as I can see you
Existing along side me.
In darkness I know
Not what we are,
But I feel you breathe beside me,
And that alone fills me up.

I hate that I should feel guilty
For being lonely.
As if my loneliness
Translates to me being needy,
When some girl much prettier than I
Reminds me
That there is always someone
Underneath my covers.
But with all this skin on skin,
Why do I feel so out of touch?
Where is the feeling of feeling
That I crave so much?
And why does the man sleeping next to me,
The one who just learned more about me
Than even I know,
Feel so much like a stranger?

Live off the earth
Eat from her bounty
Drink from her *******
Sleep on her skin
Climb up her spine
Drown in her tears
Become lovers of the land
Discover your own stardust
Bleed like a man
Breathe like a child
Cry like an infant
Live
As if this is home.

As the moon belongs to the night,
So I belong to you.
And just as the night sky
Never fears to lose its stars
So shall you never lose me
As long as the day is day
And the night is night.

There are three beautiful people
In my life.
One I am in love with,
One I am in lust with,
And one I can not move on from.
One has my whole body,
One consumes my every thought,
And the other holds my heart.
I often wonder what would happen,
If I walk away from it all
And leave it all behind.
Move some place new,
Find a new lover,
And start a new life.
But even I know,
That a change of scenery,
Never truly changes a situation.
For every time I stand in the shower,
And the water droplets
Run down
Between my *******,
One face returns to me.
And every night,
When I close my eyes,
And the midnight air brings
The deepest thoughts to my mind,
Another face appears.
When I walk the park in evening,
Trying to clear my mind,
Of the troubles of today,
And I see two beautiful lovers,
Nestled together on a bench,
I see that face,
Staring right at me.
Clear as day,
Never blurred.

There are no words
To describe the pain.

This is therefore the end of my poem.

At the end of the day,
There are other beautiful men
And other gorgeous women
In the world.
At the end of the day,
Your kiss
Will not be the last one
I ever taste.
At the end of the day,
I know that some other
Pretty face
Will one day catch my eye.
At the end of the day,
You will not be
The only one
To ever make my sides hurt
With laughter.
At the end of the day,
I actually can
Listen to that song
Without crying.
At the end of the day,
I am sure that
I will find
Someone else
Exactly like you.
At the end of the day,
I know
That you are not
The last person
That I will ever love.
But at the end of the day,
No one,
No one,
Will ever have my heart
The way that you do.

I recall the first time
I heard my bones crackle
When I rolled out of bed.
It was the same morning
That I saw that wrinkle by my eyes--
It was thin and new.
Thin and new,
But defined.
It was definitely there.
I did not mind it all that much.
My bones crackled but did not ache,
And the wrinkle was,
In its own way,
Flattering.
If only I could be that young again.
For now,
As I roll out of bed,
The bones ache
And threaten to break,
And the reality of immortality sinks in.
Past the age of twenty-seven,
I never did grow old.
My mind and spirit stayed the same.
My dreams remained intact.
I had learned all I had to learn
About love,
About death.
And though I continue to learn little things
Each and every day,
By age twenty-seven,
I had learned all there was to learn
About life.
My mind has not aged since then.
I still wish to fly,
And to make people dance,
And to be the one to dance.
I want to climb a mountain,
Marry the spirit of the wilderness
With the young spirit of my soul.
Nothing has changed.
I feel as young as I ever did,
Only now,
I feel my body slowly giving up on me.
My heart still ready to soar,
But my body ready
For an eternal rest.

I weep over my tendencies
And this future of mine.
Inevitably a drunken wreck
In five or ten years time.
This is not who I wished
Or ever thought I would become
A woman so dependent
On her whiskey and ***.
The poor children in this film
Are weeping for their father.
And soon his drunken state
Ruins his wife and daughters.
But the soul my heart goes out to
Is in fact the drunken one,
For I knew that he could never win
Once the war had begun.
I myself feel his pain
And i wish there was a way
To rid me of this vile disease
Before it seals my fate.
But could there be a way
To rid the artist from my bones?
To take away the way
My soul weeps and groans?
I fear my fate is sealed
And I cannot stop the storm
From raining over me
'Til I find myself conformed
To the stereotypes of artists
And who we're doomed to be.
So for my future, I tell you,
I moan and wail and weep.
I anguish over my tendencies
I fear this future of mine.
But most of all, I weep for the day
I first discovered wine.

Today while cleaning out my closet
I found a small piece of you
A worn out flannel, frayed and tattered
Of both a red and black-ish hue.
For a moment I only held it
My mind emptier than hell.
Then as I stared at the void of my wall
My nose filled with your smell--
Stale cigarettes and spearmint gum
A taste on my tongue forgotten.
My mouth now dry, my lips curled in
My tongue now the taste of cotton.
I miss your touch, I miss your shoulder
I miss the whisper of your voice.
But then the whispers ceased, the blood began
And these days I drown in silent noise.
Today while cleaning out my closet
I found your shirt and pulled it on.
I lit a smoke, refreshed your scent
And faced the fact you are gone.

I see you.
I look at you, and I see you.
And it makes me angry
When she looks at you
That all she ever does is look.
She never sees.
She just looks at you.
She looks,
Completely unaware
Or simply unmindful
To the miracle of having
Earth's most beautiful being before her.
Fully knowing what I would give
To know it for a moment.
I am done asking her
If I can have you.
I have grown and selfish desire has left me.
I simply beg her to see you.
She can not see.
And she will never see.
She will only ever look.
Forever will she only look at a man
Whom she will never love
The way he should be loved.
The way he deserves to be loved.
The way he could be loved.
The way that I do.

They told me I am good,
But I do not wish to be good.
And I am certain
That upon reaching greatness,
I will not be satisfied with that either.
Perfection can never be achieved,
But who is to say
That it should stop being chased?

I waited in agony
For years to be yours.
I waited in pain
For the day I could love you
Without loving from a distance.
But no one told me
That loving you
Would hurt just as badly
As when I could not.

You hurt me
More than you realize,
And I love you
More than you will ever know.

One of the greatest problems I see with relationships today is that most people see *** as the key to a successful relationship instead of a result of a successful relationship.

I sat there alone
Despondent and turning numb
Thinking of the ones who left me
And the ones I left behind.

The room should have been filled
Yet the silence proved otherwise.
I was finally and fearfully
Alone

When a hand placed an object in front of me
A shiny, silver box.
I peeked inside and just as I'd hoped
The promise of a home.

My eyes followed the hand
And rested on your face
As a smile overwhelmed mine.
You remembered.

I lept up in joy
And into your arms
Burying my face
In the warmth of your shoulder.

I held on so tightly
Wishing I could hold you tighter,
Wishing for a way
To press our bodies closer together.

The people I could not see before
Suddenly appeared before my eyes.
I smiled at their embarrassment,
Unashamed at our public embrace.

You kissed my ear so gently
Whispering to me, "I love you."
I smiled and wished to say the same.
A stirring came over my body.

And at once I woke up.

Was loving you
Intended to be
The thing
To make me happy?
Or was it only
A reassurance
That I
Was still able
To feel?

Do I love you??
Why are you asking me this??
Do I love you??
I love the things you say.
I love the things you do.
But do I love you??
Sometimes I think I do.
Sometimes I tell myself
To just accept my love for you,
To give myself permission to fall deeply in love.
To allow myself happiness for a change,
And to sink into something beautiful.
Yet other times, I find myself thinking
That perhaps I am just lonely.
Perhaps I just miss you.
Perhaps it is just nice to have someone to talk to.
Perhaps it is the fact
That every time we speak
It is three in the morning,
And deny it all you want,
But you know **** well that that makes a difference.
Perhaps I just love the nostalgia from when we were kids.
I do love it.
I love the memories.
I love those years.
I love the feelings they left behind.
But do I love you??
Do I love you??
Oh darling.
Ask me no questions,
And I tell you no lies.

I am not allowed to love you.
And so I do not.
I do, however,
Love the way you greet me.
I love the way you laugh.
I love how angry you get
When the radio plays the wrong song.
I love your teeth.
I love your conviction.
I love how paranoid
You can be at times.
I love the way you love to live.
I love your angry fits.
I love the way you talk about others.
I love how happy you get
When recalling random stories.
I love your confidence.
I love your strange habits.
I love how fearless you are.
I love the way
You defend until it destroys you.
I love it.
I love it all.

I am not allowed to love you.
And so I do not.
There is, however,
A small, timid part of me
That would love for you to read this
So you could know
How much I really do.

Sunday afternoons
When I'm finally alone
With myself again
And I can breathe
Like a normal human being,
When I take Edgar Allan Poe
Off the shelf
And sink into his words again.
Sunday afternoons
When I stop to watch a film,
A cheesy romantic comedy
About two beautiful kids
And no one will tell me
Not to laugh so loud
Or ask me why I'm crying
Such big, heavy tears.
Sunday afternoons
When I catch up:
Tweeze my brows,
Paint my nails,
Take a bath,
Maybe sing a song or two
Like I used to when I was still young
And he called me beautiful.
Sunday afternoons
When I sit on the couch,
Stare at the ceiling,
And dream of Adam
In the perfect quietness of the house,
Knowing that any minute
You'll be back,
Angry and penniless
With the smell of beer on your clothes
And not a dollar to your name.

I despise you and my love for you,
For a love like this can not be true.
Infatuated by you,
As I should no longer be,
Yet I would die for you,
You just as my friend.
I resent you and everything that you are,
Every kiss I want to place on each of your scars,
The things that I hate,
Have me dreaming at night,
And it is only you
I will have at life's end.
I refuse to believe our love could be real,
Everything I know, everything I feel,
Could it all be true?
Or is it just a game?
I love you, my darling,
I can not pretend.
I can not find a thing that keeps you in my heart,
But I know that nothing could ever keep us apart.
I love you, like heaven,
Like what I could not see,
You are my world,
Until our bones descend.