Leave scars on the cheeks of her man.
Scars deeper than any left by angry
Fists, or gravel.
Deeper than those slapped on by wedding
Ringed fingers; now naked.

A woman's tears.
Each heavier than an ocean.
Deeper too,
The chambers in which their source and
Remedy rest.

Outside the walls of which
Water falls.

Each drip-drip-drip
A vertical sea in the uncynical/
Cynical eyes of
Timelessness and male poetry.

You don't have to worry about
Sleep- you'll get more than enough
Before driving me to the doc's,*
She reminded me last night.

A mental note to text my boss
In the morning.
He'll understand. They always do;
Humans as full of love and worry
As anyone.

Instead of cranes, concrete trucks
And workers in black and yellow
Like bees outside my office window,

I see pinetrees dancing with winds
Warmer than yesterday's,
Beyond homefields of fresh-spring
-Light-brown-

And she breathes heavily on the
Sofa, shielded from the early
Afternoon sun,
Relieved from white coated,
Warm-handshaking sharing
Of news; none but reassuring.

Streched out like a cat mid-nap.
A beautiful, deflated balloon.
Breathing; not bleeding.
Sleeping; not anesthesized.

I worry not about sleep.
Hers is mine.

I remember it all,
And that was the point.
I felt every infected scab
On my heart.
Bruised fingertips left their mark.
Your name screams within me.

There are black ghosts inside of me.
They leave their nails in my soul,
Broken off and bleeding through.
And to think
This,
This is all because of your name

You say I'm poisoning you,
corrupting you within, that
which I'm giving you is making
you sick. Your the one who has
it off me, but claim its corrupted
you within.

Addicted is the word you tell me,
to much you say I give, its not
my fault you became an addict
to that which I can give. You cant
blame me that you use it to much
its not like you can overdose or
can you if you take to much.

You say I'm poisoning you with
feelings that your not used to
them, that its like poison in
your mind confusing you so
much, that your scared to let
them in as it feels different to
what you thought it was.

Addicted you are to the love that I
do give, you want it every day
sometimes more than I can give.
You blame me for this addiction
saying no other gave it you like
this. but don't blame me its just
that I love you, and I will give
you all the love I can give.

On this train journey I sit
with my precious child
I contemplate,
people, places and time,
passing so fast
too fast

It's disconcerting
how it mirrors life,
this journey,
and I worry
that my life too
passes me by this way
I'm concerned that I spend
too much time
fearing exactly this scenario
Yet here I sit
pondering these fears
still

Sometimes I wonder
I wonder
Why's everyone looking at me?
Is it because I'm so pretty?
Than my other half says to me
As annoyed as a street musician
On a sunday
Nick your talking to me
..And quite audibly

It would be so nice
If we just say it all
Say it all
Hemorrhage of words
Emotional plight
Just say it all
Say it all
We don’t have to say goodbye tonight
I swear if I don’t make it back
I’ll be alright
I’ll be in that wind
I’ll be in that song
Just please remember
To say it all
Say everything I use too
Never leave one word out
Never ever censor yourself
Feel ashamed or doubt
Say it all
Tell them all they have a reason
There's a reason tonight
Tell them all they’re accepted
They don’t have to fight
Don’t ever cry
There’s no reason for tears
Just smile for every, hug, every memory
And every year
And say it all
Without reserve, without fear
Don’t leave a word out
Because without a doubt
Wherever I am
I'm much happier now

I like the way your cheeks turn red when you're embarrassed,
or sometimes for no reason at all.
I like the way you say 'God Maddie'
I like when we are REALLY talking about
something else entirely.
I like your hair.
and I like when you let me play with it,
and I like how tenderheaded you are,
because I have to be extra careful I'm not laying on it.
I like when you get really excited about something
and I can't understand what you're saying.

and when people ask me to describe you, I say
you're short, quiet,
and that's not good enough, when I could describe
the way your eyes light up
or the way you say things,
or your mind,
or all the millions of conversations we've had,
or your laugh,
or your walk, as if you're the only one walking alone on a slackline over a mattress and you're there for the thrill.

You aren't a GPA or a collection of friends or a green-orange-gold-blue who is friends with a
blue-orange-green-gold.
You aren't even an aspiring pilot.
You're every experience you've had and every time someones' said your name.
and every kiss someone wished they had with you,
but didn't have the ***** to pull it off.
and every phase you've been through,
and every embarrassing quote from freshman year.
I wasn't there for all that.
But I can be there for the rest of it.

and I could write line after line and never come close. adjective on top of adjective with maybe a few verbs, couldn't capture you. or me, really.
there's a certain fire inside you
everyone who meets you can see it.
it's more than there is on the outside
and makes me want to burrow and dig for it
so I can be warmed by the gentle (or blazing) heat.
if I get too close, I might get burnt.
but maybe it'll be worth it.

I don't want to capture you.
capturing and owning and containing will slowly
**** your flame.
I don't want to change you.
I don't want to hold you down.
I want to see you fly.
I want to watch as your soul alights on the wings
of heaven, and the fire inside you finally finishes eating away at the outer shell and it
emerges in full glory,
and I've seen it for a long time and
now everyone can see it just like me.

You're looking for someone who sees things like you do.
I don't. I see differently. But at least I can try to understand the way and the why you see things like you do.
We're so ridiculously different.
but can anyone ever be similar?
Who you are is expansive and never-ending and unimaginable and no words could ever capture it. Who I am is completely in the other direction but the same in scope.
I hope that you understand-
who we ARE
is not nearly as beautiful and powerful as
who we can be
or who we will be.

My rhymes are sore.
I've sprained both my
Anaphoras quite badly. Oh,
And I bleed from all my metaphors.

My episthropes are fractured from
Endless twosome emphasis.
I've taken a bad one today.
It's bedtime for beat poets.