Your sleeplessness will follow you into your next failure,
cuddled and coddled in cotton carelessness.
And I will love you like you will love that quilt, for years to come.

and I will leave you
like the last patched fabric
that found another to cuddle under the warmth of her love
but I will love you enough
to pull away from strain of coming undone.


C.e.M.
April

We used to kiss...
Frequently, fervently
I feared at times it was too much

and now after a few months
that feeling in my gut
was enough to predict
our coming undone.

small kindling fires
burnt through all the
small green sappy things
of little meaning and no importance
that were once enough
to calm the tides of loneliness within us

days go by,
we don't touch.

week after week,
I've had enough

of not having enough.

C.e.M.
April 3, 2016

unintentionally, I've made habit of waiting
until the highway clears out,
leaving nothing but sandy semis
and gritty grizzled men smoking and steering
Staring dead-eyed through sleepless deadlines
to make my way home alone.

Watching infinite dashes pass through my peripheral, separating me from
passenger-less lanes,
perpetually pondering present pessimism
as pale streaks slur by
enough to white out every word
I spoke and you never heard.

C.e.M
April 15, edit April 19 2016

I've come to realize when I say I'm people watching it really means I'm trying to find
My place in line,
Trying to figure out which standards I fit
And what I can commit to
In order to drift with little to no conflict
All the way to the end of it.

This version of my excursion
At times feels counterfeit,
A minute off
I take a day to split the difference
count it up and call it consistency
between the days I existed
and the days I persisted through towards more.


C.e.M.
April 15, 2016

Error:404

Thump thump
Black velvet Velcro clumps across the lot
Was there anything I forgot?
Cart collector calls out a claim of the weather
And I replied with a cry of fear wondering if
The earth could still hear my sigh
Or if the climate has changed past
The refresh button
And we'd be stuck in a rut
A rotten glutton ******* our giver dry.

You're not hiding anything tangible
Just secrets, building,
Mortar for this wall behind your mandible.
You view your vocal chords
As a noose
Stretched too loose,
And you swing free
At the base of minor key
Haunting melody that repeats
While jarring words behind your jaw
You will never speak
Pile higher
Higher higher
Until we drift asleep.
Cem dec.18,2015