I wrote
Better poetry
When you were
Chewing on my heart
Like a dog chews a bone
Sharpening its teeth

wind, water, and rhyme
brushed away the sands of time
like golden hair - fine
out of a lover's blue eyes

revealing glimpses
into the past
little chocolate heart-sized samples of a
lost civilization swallowed like pride

wonder struck and sowed a seed of curiosity
like one who just discovered knowledge
and the depth of its beauty
desiring to seek that forbidden fruit
knowing well what trap lies there

its beauty, divine and sparkling
a silver crown encrusted with sapphires
that begs one to look further
dig for all the treasure beneath

its beauty: but also worn and dull
like an over-washed, one-size-too-large t-shirt
not highlighting assets
instead drowning them in an ocean of grey

its beauty: where sweetness raffles
like eating trail mix
and its bitterness is cold, black coffee
some crowns are stained with impatience

brush a little more delicately
around the fragile artifacts
never digging too deep
for fear of fumbling it all

uncov'ring these time capsules
conditioned as they were
preserved by memory lapses
laps in a labyrinth

why do we seek
buried, ancient artifacts
instead of building new ones
with the plant that knowledge became?

why do we bury deep
our prized possessions
like a dog buries a bone?
- to dig them up later

pick me apart
like one of your spongy, sparkly, buds
put me out
like a cigarette in your
ash tray soul
stir with me your second favorite poison
Regret me the day after
And swear this swine you'll quit
The next Monday you remember

A guttural hatred
dwindles
dwells
digs further

i plucked the hair
but left the follicle,
sealed the surface
of a hollow, "Full."

i always move the ***
before it boils over
but i am not so sure
that i will keep my clover

perhaps it's not just luck
perhaps in fact it's skill
perhaps it's glass and rust
in the throne sits my will

it doesn't matter the quality of the day
letting it fade out was one of my favorite past times
staying awake doing nothing
until your mind and body slipped into that foggy state
and it felt like seeing the world through
amber sunglasses

unwritten novel in my mind
autobiography of my much-sought-after
deep slumber
the ****** mystery of my sense of
purpose
and not a pen in sight

i am my father's lost cause

to lose something one must first be in possession of it

to possess something one must be able to afford it

how can one afford what one does not know the value of?

how can one afford someone whose values they do not know?