I want to softly whisper
incomplete poems
on your collar bones
that don't rhyme with anything
but your heavy breathing.

I want to bury my face
in the curves of your neck
because you smell like the winter clouds
and I've been gazing at the sky
since you left.

Too many** eyes watching
Too many ears listening
Too many ideals capsizing
Too many thoughts sinking...
And dreams drowning.

Too many drops fallen
Too many smiles forsaken
Too many times beaten
Too many hearts left shaken...
And promises broken.

Too many questions asked
Too many answers hidden
Too many faces masked
Too many hands bitten...
And people forgotten.

Too many words said
Too many pacts fade
Too many boundaries laid
Too many rules made...
And games played.

Too many secrets entombed
Too many feelings consumed
Too many ill thoughts bloomed
Too many enemies groomed...
And hate campaigns resumed.

Too many...
A plethora too many
Too many...
We choose not to see
Too many...
Taken far too lightly
Too many...
There's just *too many,
too many...

You told me time and again how you did it, life I mean
how you never let anything beat you, man or machine
How you got sick and tired of being sick and tired
you know underdog gets angry and so triumphs
The innumerable possessions you acquired
And I remember the feel good story of ..
the guy who knew
so little about a business
Then went on to become a huge success
and I remember everyone in town thought you were great
From the homeless man on the corner, to the district attorney
all you needed was a running mate
I'm surprised the elbows in your shirts lasted
Given all the rubbing they went through
and I remember you could cook
And sew, you could sew better than most women
which would serve to fuel more than one smile
on more than one occasion
You were an admirable man, by anyone's standards
I remember how you always had an answer for everything
Me myself
Things DO beat me sometimes
for me sometimes you win, sometimes you get beat
Win or lose is NOT the issue
but that I have the heart to stand toe to toe with life day after day
And I say that with a heavy heart because
Because I've lost friends who couldn't
And I get sick and tired too, but for me, sick and tired go hand in hand
Like Sunshine and rain, like happy and sad
Like up and down or good and bad
For me, That's just life, it does that, I have two little rules
#1 Don't sweat the small stuff
and
#2 It's ALL small stuff
Business, sore subject
Moving on ...
Hey! I CAN tell you about being a pirate!
Not a peg leg, patch over one eye kind of pirate
A ship commandeering, treasure hunting pirate
you should know though that
I may refer to something like a bed as a "ship," and to me
Not all treasure is made of gold
But that's me
The people in this town don't all think I'm great
The district attorney certainly knows my name but, we're not friends
I'm friends with the homeless guy on the corner
I stuck a dinner in the microwave last night for two minutes
does that constitute cooking?
I haven't sewn in years
And they don't let me play with guns these days, you know, since
the incident  ;~
I don't have all the answers, not even close, I wish I did
But then
You know one thing I NEVER could get you to understand dad
I'm not you

We look at storm clouds through the window side by side
And all you can see is storm clouds
I see metaphors in everything
But you really don’t
It’s just finished raining and the sky is a dim murky gray
I point out the beautiful raindrops on the window pane, my favorite sight
All you say is: Yeah, so?
I see beauty in the littlest things
But you really don’t
You have never complimented me on anything other than my looks
You only ever tell me I’m pretty when I have make up on
You barely look at me in the mornings
When I wake up with a natural unpainted face
Sipping my tea and reading
You’ve never read a single one of my poems
And whenever I cry about anything no matter how serious
You make an excuse to leave
You order me a salad every time we go out to eat
Without even asking me first
You never let me drive your car
But you toss your stoner buddies the keys every other day
You use the words music and noise interchangeably
You call me overdramatic a couple too many times
And it is getting old
Not funny anymore
Well, actually it never really was
And yesterday I bought a pretty rose for our apartment’s kitchen table
After you finally came home from work
You stripped off the thorns
The ones I left on purposefully
Then right after
You whispered a very hollow and cold: I love you
You kissed me with my hand in yours
Ran your thumb along the skin on my knuckles
And told me my skin was too rough and dry
One of my many imperfections that I am most sensitive about
You told me to go put on cream before you held my hand again
Is that what you are doing to me?
Stripping off my thorns?
So that, Derek
Is why your things are all packed up and left outside our door
Because unmetaphorical you
Who never REALLY got me
Who never REALLY liked me
Who CERTAINLY never loved me
Couldn’t handle my emotions
And tried to change me to fit
Your perfect little image of me in your mind
Calculating, icy, stone frozen rocky you
That I thought was so wonderful for the longest time
Are getting kicked out of MY apartment today
There is supposed to be a thunderstorm tonight
So I can play a little of my “noise”
While I watch storm clouds
And see more than what they are literally,
But what they mean symbolically
Not wear make up without feeling too ugly for you
Look at beautiful raindrops on the window
Drinking tea and reading
NOT eating salad
Writing poetry that you won’t refuse to read
Because you won’t even get the chance to say no
Since I won’t be inviting you to read it
Be as thorny and overdramatic as I feel like
Cry if I want, without feeling like I’m being a burden to you
Making you uncomfortable
Make my world of metaphors that I live in
And buy a new rose
And KEEP the thorns

Repost if you are PROUD of your thorns

I like to think
I'm too big
to be broken,
I'm so high
above
all of that
- but you're the one
who brings me
back to Earth
and says
that I'm only
five foot
tall.

Still fresh
    with that "popping" sound
Not yet throwing
     that dreaded "L" word around
   Starting to fall
         but having fun going down
        
First taste,
     a different kind of feeling
Going slow
          not yet hoping
or dreading
      Just beginning to notice all
           the little things
  Too soon for deeper meanings

      It's all still so new to me
but just recently...
         I had a glimpse of chivalry,
    opening doors and carrying bags
      Actual, honest to goodness, decency!
        Very pleasantly
             surprising....