Telling.
On the news I see
in the cradle of mankind,
bloodlust  rampaging.
Killing machines laughing
as children cry and mothers
stare silently at nothing.

Telling.
On my porch I see
three birds sharing a perch,
eating seed.
One brown, one red,
one olive green.
One gently feeding the other.

Telling.

r ~ 4/9/14

i'm not sure if it
is selfish to say,
or if i deserve to
say this after
all this time, but

i love you,
i love you

1.
we come across a building that’s as big as it is empty
and toss pebbles with our feet because that’s easier than speaking
and i swear we’ve had this hush before

2.
you’ve never been one for a hush
that lasts longer than the last time i made eye contact
so when i ask you what to do
as the empty building looms over us,
you only say “i don’t know where to go.”

3.
we settle for sitting on the steps
of the deserted building
and counting  how many people rush by
with their hoods pulled up
and pull our own hoods up in response
because that’s what strangers do

4.
you tell me again that you don’t know where to go
and i just kick up dust and revel in it
because this is our breakup ritual
i could not tell you where to go

you are still in the corner of vision
and you haunt my doorway
and i can see you in my lipstick and my computer and the reflection in every other girl’s face
i’ll swing around and my eyes will glow and your name will spring from my lips
only to not be you
it’s not fair,
but that’s just how it is
how it has to be
it’s not your fault that your shadow creeps around mine
or that i see you whenever i buy a stick of eyeliner
it’s not your fault that you were a hurricane and i was a house made of wood
your name hangs around still
and your eyes follow me through doors
i am ashamed of my infatuation
but i am relieved that you never knew
now i can keep you as a friend
no scars
clean
and
easy
break
i broke up
when i bit my tongue before speaking then kicked myself when i let my words spill
i broke up with the image i had built for you
the imaginary reality of you
you are a history book devoid of reality and only of pretty lies
but god lies have never been more beautiful

It's 12:12 a.m
don't know where I am and the light isn't coming up soon
but it is morning, not night,
I guess
I have a feeling I won't be getting much sleep
but that's okay
that's alright
I'll work it out with made up dreams of you
what I hope you are and will become
(changing everyday. everything's changing everyday. can't do it. won't do it. they all look at me. good morning. good night. good morning. good night. goodmorninggoodnightgoodmorning)

she loves me she loves me not she loves me she loves me not forever, and ever
amen

i worry about him all
the time*
i told you and
you shook your head like
you knew all too well

eleven nights later,
you tell me to get some
sleep, you say i worry about
you all the time

and i'm starting to think
it's code for people who
are trying to say 'i love you'
to someone who doesn't
love them back

the old tree
has new growth,
though I don’t know why  
it has been forty fortnight
since rain, and
years ago it gave
its last bounty

perchance
some stealthy stubborn root  
found its way to a black, cool pool  
left there from earth’s fickle vibrations
or ancient monsoons, before man
hopefully planted and plowed  

now
the people pray
for heavens to open, again  
with merciful tears, to wash
our soiled skins  

too late
for the pear
to bear sweet fruit  
but not for emerald leaves
to tease the eye
with yesterday’s
sweet song

Play for me a melody
Something in a far off tune
One that brings the sounds together
The way it's meant to do

A symphony to fill the need
Of those who have lost sight
As woodwinds fill the air we breath
Setting music into flight

Play for me a rhapsody
One that takes me to cloud nine
Swoon me into ecstasy
As euphoria waits in line

With a hand held over my warming heart
As it flutters to the beat
Play for me a melody
That is ever so soft and sweet