If you are quiet
when truth is buried naked
Lies will make you slave

In my half daze of a slumber I remember how your scruff felt brushing against the skin of my spine
As you laid soft kisses down like you were planting rose buds in the soft of my skin to stay long after you left
And the way our bodies radiated heat together deep under the covers tucked away from the world
How easily I dozed off to the sound of your breathing against my neck
And your erratic twitches of a nightmare
And your arm protectively wrapped around my waist up until our hands interlocked
I remember how our hands melted into one another that they felt like one
Beautiful and synchronized
I could have laid there with you all day like a work of art, never moving from the comforts of your bed
I remember thinking, maybe it is possible to fall in love
And maybe one day I can fall in love with more than just the idea of you.

Writers are brave
for every time they write,
they rip their chests open,
and let the world know
what is inside their hearts.

A poem a day
Keeps the doctor away
Two he may need to be called

Three poems a day
The doctor’s on his way
No way could his coming be stalled!

Four poems a day
The doctor has to stay
Five and tough is his work

If the number are six
The doctor’s in a fix
How could he stop the flying spark!

Poems by the hour
Is beyond the doctor’s power
Poems by the minute is his bane

It’s where he loses self
Badly needs a help
To be declared utterly insane!

Some say it's just a song
But to me
It's an insane little fragment of me and some of you, the heartbreak and absolute madness I created from my bitter yet not fruitless experience

-cj