There was nothing plastic
About the way your smile showed
Or about the way your arms felt
But a voice in the back of my head told me so
And last weekend
I melted a carpet I thought was wool
You could have fooled me
Except now there is a hard, shiny, iron-shaped mark
Plastered into the carpet's soft mat
To be honest, I was a little disgusted
When I pulled the iron away and found
Strings of green and red clinging to it like bubblegum
And to be honest, I felt a little disgusted with myself
Not to mention you
When I left a handprint in your soft back
And strings of skin still sticking to my palm
Prove you, my little plastic boy, are just a doll
By all the tests that matter
A human illusion too easily destroyed
By an excess of warmth

He thinks about the grocery bags
Crawling around the sidewalk
Like dying jellyfish

Thinks about sheets
And how cold the other side of the bed can get

You know most days I stand like a windmill with my mouth open
just trying to catch my breath
And I am just trying to get some sleep
And I want
You
To leave me alone

She kicks her feet into the air
Not knowing what feet are
Or why they move that way

Bits of white are breaking skin in her gums
Like a compound fracture of the jaw

Her fingertips are ****** from chewing

Her tears settle

He realizes we are not ones for not hurting
As much as we are ones for transferring pain

Your mother wanted me to get a goldfish
Or some plants before we had you
But I never saw the purpose in caring for
Something that is trying to die on me
As quickly as I am
And now
All I have is you

Her eyes are wet and glassy
Chin dimples like moon craters
She is so much softer than he is

He places the tip of his finger to her gums
She bites down
It hurts

But for whatever reason
He finally catches his breath

You say you're a friend
But then why are you so quick to throw me under the speeding yellow bus?

You say you're a friend
But then why don't we talk; just argue?

You say you're a friend
But then why is there not an iota of truth in your empty words?

You say you're a friend
But then why am I left alone in the dust with no one?

You say you're a friend
But then why will you turn around and ****** a ***** knife through my back?

You say you're a friend
But then why?

Tick.    Thud.    Tick.    Thud.
Can the audience hear that?
                                                  The sound of my heart beating syncronously with the metronome
I hope not. Because all I hear is the simultaneous thud/tick of nerves.
                                                                ­                                                              Don­t show your nerves

Can the audience see that?
                                               The sweat that's accumulated on your palms
I hope not. Because all I feel is a cold slimy instrument in you hands. Slipping like butter.

Can the audience feel that?
                                               That frantic look you're giving everyone
I hope not. Because angst and apprehension don't go over well with spectators.

                                                               ­                                                                 ­              Just don't show your nerves.
                                            Relax.
      ­                                                 And take some deep breaths.

Inhale, tick, thud, exhale, tick, thud, inhale, tick, thud, exhale tick, thud
Inhale, tick, exhale, tick, inhale, tick, exhale
Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale
Inhale, *play

Winding roads envelop mornings
changing how I feel
as the sun rises
over half a million faces
all aglow.  
The air bears the scent of flowers
like those I have seen
within blue flames of truth
on the horizon of nothing more
than how your presence
seeks my attention
like falling snow.

I feel my pulse expanding
and I grow weak
as my skin glows soft
like poems
that have kissed the roses
around my thorns,
and my soul keeps the best of you
in my hands.  
My joy crashes
against  sands pure as thoughts
of the wildest forest
embracing its own lands.

Your voice finds me
with an understanding
that springs into my mind
making the ground I walk on
become a heaven
born of words.
I smile secretly, as if I  have begun
to read something
living inside a storm
rushing to be let in
and dancing on paper
to be heard.

Half a million faces
and all I see is yours,
telling me
I am the treasure you find
on those winding roads.
The air bears the scent of flowers
from fields
that continue to live
throughout the winter
warmed by blue flames of truth,
seeking my attention
like falling snow.

What is poetry
To a fellow in need?
Simply an outlet
To any man that grieves
What is a song
To a man of passion?
Simply a language
Of feelings and emotion

I can't explain
What dwells inside
Inside the walls
Behind which I hide
From the outer world
So harsh is the sight
I keep well away
As far as I might

It's the language of prose
Of time and rhyme
That I encrypt these messages
Of what's deep inside
Inside the walls
Behind which I hide
Until a better day
When all my fears will subside