Your fingers run through my hair
like dull daggers, sending a tingling
sensation through my neck, like
an electric charge, giving me
vigor and life.

You wrap your arms
around me like the prettiest
Iron Maiden, clinging as tightly
as lost children, as the morning
tide.

You watch me with eyes
of wanderlust and fear
like an out of work
actress, starving
for a chance to show
the world and me,
exactly what you're worth.

You were never my muse,
Despite the effort you put forth
you made pages fall blank.



Your sirensong passes
through my ears and delves
into my soul like a flight of Furies,
corrupting, estranging, smashing
me against the cliff side.

Wrap your arms around me,
and notice me noticing you.
Smile at the cheesy things
that fumble out of my mouth,
pure and unintentional.

Measure me
against the ones
who came before,
like a child against
the wall, chalk
dusting my hair
like hesitation.

What are you looking
for, little scrapper?

Behind these eyes
and words lies a
man you can't defeat.
His language beguiles
and deceives, like
the Opposer, and you
carry no flaming sword.

Army Men exploded into
green plastic pieces
on the dull, gray
comforter that made
up the battlefield.
Rubberbands flying
back and forth
through the air
like so many bombshells.

Days that I long
to fall back on,
where super heroes
had crooked teeth,
hunched backs,
and tattered t-shirts.

I'm smoking cigarettes
to the filiters, inhaling
carcinogens and rat poison
and urea like oxygen,
while you're dancing,
dancing around words
and the bedroom floor.

Heather, will you come back home?
I'm tired of being alone like
a drunk on Christmas morning.
Mourning Ground Zero
where the bomb went off,
and the crater still stands,
a scar on the earth and in my
mind to remind me that the
past is permanent.
It's permanent.