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Jan 2015 · 570
Reasons to run: yesterday
Feeler Jan 2015
Reasons to run: yesterday
Bom bom
Bom bom
Bom bom
frantic beats in the dark of the night
no light
in sight. my heart beats
Bom bom
Bom bom
Bom bom
take me away fairy duster of thoughts
with your promises of
fairy tales and god mothers
with wands. my heart beats
Bom bom
Bom bom
Bom bom
quickens. the footsteps in my ears
echoes through my head
the dread
of a life of shouts, terrors, drained beer bottles
with napkin coozies.
Bombom
Bombom
Bombom
my heart beat quickens.
i won't be you with your needles and your lines
and your maybe next times
your promises and failures
your ***** *** 60 dollar trailers.
i'm not your ***** OR your daughter
not your plastic little dolly
i ain't here to give your life a reason
to help you pass the seasons.
i'm a woman, a mother,
not a **** under covers
i'm no coward or saint
with every gosh **** word I paint
a reason, a rhyme
a purpose for time
to escape your thumb
your legacy
your guilt and tragedy.

Bom bom
Bom bom
Bom bom

My heart beats a drum
Like the wings of a bird
Carrying away the pain of yesterday.
My heart beats.
Continue reading...
Oct 2014 · 569
Two Pink Lines
Feeler Oct 2014
Two Pink Lines
Sometimes I think I'm crazy, lost in my head, spiraling downward in a world of cynicism and faded darkness-
but I'm not crazy.
Those are definitely two little pink lines
lines that scream life
lines that scream be  scared  because  you're  not  alone  anymore­
....lines that say hey  mama....

Sometimes I think I'm crazy
but now I just think this is crazy.
Continue reading...
Sep 2014 · 453
Dear Kayci
Feeler Sep 2014
Dear Kayci
I got your facebook message that wasn't even sent to me. You
lost me long before you sidestepped our
friendship.
Maybe
it was that time you had *** with a stranger while I was sleeping next to you
on the same bed.

on the same bed

Or maybe
it was that time that you said you'd DD but
got too drunk to walk
leaving me to drive                             drunk

I got your attempt at reaching out. Your feeble mind's endeavor to taint my life with your existence. At one point in time
you were my best friend and I
did anything and everything for you. Even sit, or rather, lie by
while you ***** the whole city.

I got your letter and
I'm not interested. I'm
not interested in living a life where you're of involvement.
A life where I worry about your well being all the time
and forget about my own. I don't want you
and I don't want what you offer.

I loved you. My Kayci and the Sunshine band. You were it.
No more searching for friend soul mates
because I found mine.
Then you took a knife and you ****** it in my back with all your weight til I ached deep in my bones and to the bottom of my heart
bleeding the remnants of you. You're a virus
a *succubus
draining the lives of the ignorant fools dumb enough to care about your whims.

I was an ignorant fool.
If I could rip up your pathetic facebook attempt, I would.
Maybe I'll print it just so that I can find
satisfaction.

You're 26.
Start acting like it.
Continue reading...
Sep 2014 · 423
From which we're born, we fall
Feeler Sep 2014
From which we're born, we fall
You're slipping baby girl
you're slipping from my reach,
my fingers straining to keep a grip on the thread that holds us together
while I slur my frightened speech.
You're slipping baby girl
into the farthest beyond,
a space where your light dims
and from which this eternal darkness without you spawned.
You're slipping my dearest and sweetest baby girl
to a place where dead trees live and hearts are cold,
where winter's chill falls upon us all
and desperation sinks into our skin and takes its hold.

Like fangs sinking deep into captured flesh
the reality of losing you stills my breath.

I ache for you to make me whole
to return to me the heart you stole.

This mirror is the only thing between us
as it's me that's slipped away,
and the darkness has taken over
it's come, it's conquered, it's here to stay.
So goodbye baby girl,
we are just a shell.
No longer the lively woman
but a desperate soul roaming freely in hell.

It was good while it lasted,
**my sweet baby girl.
Testimony to how it feels to lose one's self.
Continue reading...
Sep 2014 · 632
Change your mind, Taylor
Feeler Sep 2014
Change your mind, Taylor
I found out that Taylor Swift wrote off country music today.
At times I wonder, who do we think we are?
Owner of our own hearts?
Sinkers of ships?
Destroyers of dreams?
Children of destiny?

My name's Monica and I don't own my heart.
I borrowed someone else's though and he's quite kind to mine in return.
I don't sink ships unless I have to and I'd never give up country music no matter who I thought I changed into.
I laugh too loud and I spend too much money of coffee, energy drinks, and boba smoothies.
Honestly, I could use a real makeover.
I try my best not to destroy dreams
but I find myself clinging to the thought of fate and destiny as much as the next cheesy romantic.
I cry too loud, too much and too often.
God has a special place in his heart for people like me.
I crave attention but only sometimes and it's usually accompanied by a dull ache in my chest.
I'll get back to you when I come to a conclusion on what that is.
I don't say "no" to a cold one at the end of a long day.
Sometimes -and this one is embarrassing- I yell back at the guests when they yell at me.
(I may be in customer service, but that doesn't make me a verbal punching bag.)
I've got issues and attitude and an inability to stop putting myself down.

Who do we think we are?
Everyday I change my mind.
But not about country.
Taylor, what were you thinking?
Continue reading...
Sep 2014 · 379
Not Nothing
Feeler Sep 2014
Not Nothing
Sometimes I see familiarity in strangers as they pass, going about their lives in oblivion. I feel a ***** of nostalgia as ocean waves of memory collapse my breathing lungs, seizing them into a fit of painful gasps and muscle spasms.
In. Out. In. Out.
I breathe in the exhaust fumes and grind my feet firmly into the now. Smell the wind, feel the sun beating relentlessly on my bare skin.
It's just a memory, but those eyes held the same darkness I once saw, a long time ago in a plane of desperation and fear. The sweat would bead on my forehead as his fury wrapped around me like a blanket of suffocation.

Sometimes my stomach falls out my **** and my heart hitches in my throat. Sometimes I think I'll die from the lack of oxygen and my entire existence will cease and slip into meaninglessness and THEN.... then I remember I'm not your pawn anymore. I'm not your effing punching bag and I DO mean something. I am SOMEONE. A good someone. A WORTHY someone. Not your nothing. Because I am my own now. I love me even if you never did.

Now I walk with my head high, a purpose. A reason. Because I'm no longer your nothing.
Sometimes abusive relationships take forever to recover from. As of right now, 3 years later, I only flinch sometimes. It's rare.
Continue reading...
Sep 2014 · 414
You're like glass
Feeler Sep 2014
You're like glass
You're like sheer fabric
  the way your smile can't hide your bleeding heart,
you used to know love.

Some people walk with their heads so high and their hearts guarded by 30 foot walls topped with barbed wire fences
that you'd mistake them for being put together.
  What you don't see is the devastation behind the giant structures
the reason for hiding
and complete fear just behind the surface of their eyes.
  They're like windows to the soul, we're told,
the seeing glass to the ocean beneath the surface
rolling with it's tempestuous waves,
lying to surface the depths of pain caused by memories passed.

You're like the books I like to read,
deep in their conflicts and swirling emotions
swimming in the complexities of their fight for will.
  You're a resolution in yourself
you just don't know it yet.

You're like the fabrics I sew and the cards I make.
You're like glass,
I see right through you.
  Even through your laughter, the same one that hides your tears.
Continue reading...
Sep 2014 · 536
Words from a Lover
Feeler Sep 2014
Words from a Lover
You invoke from within my depths the spark of a flame,
The flickering of love’s first thought
Spoken from the lips without shame,
What the heart hath never fought.

From your soul pours the everlasting breath
That awakens within me the desire for life,
The eternal escape from a loveless death
A pathway forged for the sake of love’s internal strife.

I see within you my mate
For eternity’s unpredictable flight
Clearing my flawed slate
With your God given light.

I love you from the depths of the ocean
And never fathom ever going back,
You keep within me forever’s notion
Tighten the rope that once hung slack.

If ever you question the love that we share
And feel the desperate need to clear the air,
My love, my dearest and closest friend
There’s not a sliver, not a bit, not  nothing we can’t mend.
For you’re my love and my life
You’re my never ending, my true to the end lover, and I, your wife.
To my husband on his birthday.
Continue reading...
Sep 2014 · 421
Even in the Dark...
Feeler Sep 2014
Even in the Dark...
Even in the dark I can see you smile
warm against my eyelids.

It smells faintly of change in this city
with its need to keep up.
I miss the slow growth and the comfort in being "that" place.
The place you go to shake off the dust,
the place where boulders roll off your shoulders
and incandesent happiness is achievable.

The storms here get worse every year
and I think the lightening is a gift from God.
A reminder that even in the midst of the bleak greys of life
we can always choose to harness our energy and break through the mundane.
It smells of wet earth and asphalt rivers.
Mud stained cars and rain stained umbrellas
I walk, hair dripping at the ends embracing the storms of God.

Even in the dark...
Your light has caught me on fire,
chosen to release me from my prison
a lifetime of desperation.
I feel my own smile, just as yours,
Even in the dark.
Possible mispelling. Rough is better. Going without an edit.
Continue reading...
Sep 2014 · 353
This is..
Feeler Sep 2014
This is..
For the left handers,
whose ink gets smudged every time they think to put thought on paper-
I don't have that problem but I've seen first hand the devastation.
This is for the stuttering stutterers,
whose ideas fall on deaf ears because it takes too long to speak the thoughts to those too impatient to hear the words behind the frustrated stuttering.
For sadly brokenhearted fools-we've all been there-
whose chest aches every second from when they wake til sleep finally knocks them cold from their pain.

This all is for you. The frustrated, the hopeless, the midnight make it down the stairs to annihilate an unexpecting bowl of cereal, the drink-to-supress-the-pain-ers... for all of us who may or may not understand what the hell the point is.

This is for you.
Continue reading...
Aug 2014 · 333
With a Tool
Feeler Aug 2014
With a Tool
I'd break down the walls and the barriers that you put around your pride.
If I had a hammer, I'd shatter the concrete you let surround your gentle heart.
I'd make myself known, blowing the horn loud and clear.
I'm here.

If I had the tools, I'd mend your tattered seams.
I'd patch and fill the holes.
If I had the tools, there's nothing I wouldn't do.

I'd create a mountain of the rubble, grab your hand and force you to the top.
We'd look out across the world and find you a new perspective.
I'd pave you a new road to travel and make you a new map, showing you exactly how to find your way back to me.

If I could, I'd repaint the smile on your face that haunts my dreams.
I'd cut a me shaped hole in the space next to you that you fill with your worries and stresses.
I'd make myself capable of making you happy.

If I had the tools, you'd be happy.
We'd have a house there in the desert with a front porch that goes all the way around.
Baby, if I could call upon the four elements, I'd craft a world just for you where you'd be happy.

With me.
All I need is a tool.
Continue reading...
Aug 2014 · 625
The Guilt in Pleasure
Feeler Aug 2014
The Guilt in Pleasure
Growing up. No thank you.
My house was littered with red solo cups, empty potato chip bags, barbies and romance novels. My mother got my sisters hooked in 5th grade, a bandwagon I never jumped on. It rode past and I waved my no thank you's, mocking their simple minds and codependency.

Then he bought me a Kindle.
Oh has a fire ever been kindled in my life, a spark deep in my gut. Not the ****** pirate books filled with ***** bosoms and ***** flexing muscles. No, and not the cliche millionaire with mommy issues falling for the average, helpless, clumsy but persistent "Jane". No, I mean the normal pretty cute girl fallen for the best friend of 10 years who saved her everyday from the memories of her childhood loss. I mean the steamy love scenes and the dramatic losses only to found again in the end.

I'm a sucker.
A straight sucker for the 99 cent heart pounding dramatizations of a life that's a roller coaster revolving around a fiery misplaced love. Gosh, we're talking lunch break, city bus rides, leaned up against the computer at work in between guests. Bundled on the couch with Chai and my kindle diving head first into a tragic love affair.

It gets me through the annoying sound of her Boston accent Wednesday through Friday. It tears me away from the less desirable moments of a real love affair called marriage. It takes me up and down with the thundering pulse of the characters involved.  

Then comes the guilt.
The looking over my shoulder while I ride the city bus in the middle of a hot and steamy love making session, slightly tucking my kindle into my body, not wanting to put it down. It's the guilt that my gut knows how to react to a book a little too well. It's the heat in my veins and the pounding in my chest.

Dear lord, I'm a sinner.
I find no true guilt in the pleasure.
Continue reading...
Dec 2013 · 457
Sometimes Things Change
Feeler Dec 2013
Sometimes Things Change
What do I know? As this bed holds me because you won't-
does the couch comfort you better than I? all over a predicament you walked yourself right into.
I cried at work today, again. I wish
but wishing never got me anywhere.
Nothing's changed... I wish it would
but sometimes things do- like a plane ticket to Seattle and new arms- a new life.
I can't.
I won't.
But God put his hands on my shoulders as I fell apart,  the pieces are his to swallow so that maybe I can be close to his heart, a place to dull the ache..
Continue reading...
Nov 2013 · 739
the burn of a 45
Feeler Nov 2013
the burn of a 45
I took a break from trying, because all of the words sounded the same and nothing new came out. It was all the old feelings I've already felt and old tears I've already wept. I was tired of beating the horse, it was already pulp beneath my feet.
So I let it go and I dropped the pen. I settled angst and let the winds run wild through the valleys of my mind. Tornadoes formed and storms brewed. I felt the cold grip of a 45 in my hand the other night held tight against my temple. I couldn't pull the trigger.
I'm glad I didn't, because that burning cold against my clammy skin awoke something deep inside. Feeling.
So I'm taking a break from taking a break because finally there's something to write about that isn't that **** pulpy horse beneath me. It's a new beast of fear and irrationality, but it's something. I've been so tired and scared that I haven't known what to do with myself.
Let go.
We thought I had ten little fingers and toes inside me. We thought that my stomach had a heart beat. I'm not sure why I felt so disappointed when that stick said no. We aren't ready for a kid, let's be honest.... are we?
Love is something we bathe ourselves in, what flows through our veins and stirs the dust within us. But I'm not so sure about a little us roaming around on ten little toes.... am I?

The storm has settle and these keys feel comfortable beneath my fingers. I just wish I didn't need to feel the burn on a 45 to know what comfort is.
Continue reading...
Nov 2013 · 466
A Little love, A Little crazy
Feeler Nov 2013
A Little love, A Little crazy
I think it's hard being with me, like standing amidst a tornado, the destructive kind,
that rips apart houses built on memories and
hope.
The kind that brings down freezing rains and
doubt.
I think it's hard being with me, with my need to hold you so close and
never let you go,
for fear that without you near, I may collapse and bleed out from my chest because
without you,
my ribs will not hold my heart firmly in place.
I'm difficult to be with.
I sing. But I sing too loud and I cry, but my tears are too much and I laugh
but it echos about and leaves behind a need for closure.
I'm difficult to be with, but you love me anyway, and some days,
I'm not so sure why. You say it's the way I smile,
that it's like the sun rising on the dark valley that is your mind,
causing bloom to the dormant flowers that are your thoughts.
You say it's the way I laugh, that it's like
feeling the breeze on your face first thing in the morning after a long and weary rest.
You say I'm not so hard to love, that love
is the freckle in my eye and way our bodies fit perfectly together, that
not only is it not hard to love me, but it's
the best decision you've ever made
and that a day without me
is the end of living as you know it. Completely aware
that life will go on because it must
but that the air within your lungs will become dust
inhaled and exhaled
from your lips that will freeze over without a purpose,
no love to mutter.
God gave you me, you think, as the one to keep the spark alive that keeps your heart beating,
just for me, you say.
You say so much, but every bit of it I beg for off your tender lips
that I love so dearly to kiss.

I think I'm hard to love,
you think I'm crazy.

Maybe I'm crazy.
Continue reading...
Nov 2013 · 491
God made we
Feeler Nov 2013
God made we
God made children with little reason and a lot of faith and
feet just large enough to run but not too quickly as to
run away from those that love them the most.

God made adults with big heads and even less reason and
hands just large enough to crush hearts but nimble enough to
sew them back together if they want.

He made the sea vast like our imaginations with the purpose of exploration and
the sky without bounds as to resemble our hope and faith but only
if one has the purpose to let go.

He made your eyes my favorite shade of green and your smile as wide as your ears and
your arms just wide enough to hold the world, if your world is me but
only close enough for our hearts to become one.  

God made my childhood full of destruction, devastation and
trials just enough to scare me straight but
not enough to hold me back.

God made you and God made me. Little did I know, God made
we.
Continue reading...
Nov 2013 · 1.2k
Wonderland Love
Feeler Nov 2013
Wonderland Love
The wind was cold and the air crisp in our lungs
but the streets were clear of ice and the yards barren of snow. Our Alaskan winter just wasn't
Alaskan.
But down came the snow and your giggles of joy erupted from your gorgeous belly as you skated over the ice in your CivNasty,
giggling the whole way. Your joy is nothing but contagious as your smile consumes your face.
My PTSD vanishing as I hold your hand drifting around corners. We're everything but safe,
completely immersed in a fairy tale that is our love story
making donuts in parking lots
and love beneath sheets.
Risky business. Make love to me in this winter wonderland beneath the blankets of white snow and grey clouds engulfing us in the love that is the warmth of our limbs intertwined together.
Whisper secrets to my goosebumps,
My lover.
Continue reading...
Nov 2013 · 375
untitled
Feeler Nov 2013
untitled
If I lost you,
oh dear if ever I lost you, like truly never again in my life, the sun has gone and the ocean weeps,
dearest I'd wither if ever... if ever I lost you.
The firmly beating muscle in my chest that somehow keeps these wheels still turning,
it'd forget how to beat, tripping uselessly over its own feet
plunging deep into the depths of dusty sorrow,
its permanent bar stool in the corner of the bar meant to drown memories in the stinging burn of patron.
Dear,
if truth be told you turned your beautifully sculpted back on me and walked a straight line out of my life,
I'd ask for the directions to the plank. Jumping, free falling into the ocean of tears I cried myself to drown myself.
Your presence, simply your presence, is the difference of a sunless sky or the bright burning ball of inspiration showering love over my life.
Continue reading...
Oct 2013 · 964
Wishful Thinking
Feeler Oct 2013
Wishful Thinking
I'll tell you I love you but never how much.
I'll cry in front of you but behind my hands where you can't follow the stream with your eyes.
My tears are like rivers.
I'll hold you til I fall asleep and wish we never woke up,
jump on the back of a bird and fly away to space, never easily brought back.
I promise I will rarely ever make sense
and I'll do everything in my power to avoid doing the dishes after I cook.
I'll try on the skin of a woman with confidence but shed it before I climb back under the covers.
I'm naked.
This make-up is an opportunity to convince myself I'm beautiful,
that my smile is something strangers don't hate to look at
and that maybe I can make your heart beat a little quicker.
I wish I knew better,
better than to believe what I know is truth.
I've always wanted a telescope so that I could look with one I shut at the universe high above and below me.
That maybe I could put into perspective why I feel so small and insignificant.
Remember that time you asked me if I was happy and I looked at you like you just asked me what I was wearing two weeks ago?
I am not sure what that means anymore,
even the dictionary blurs when I try to read it.

If you want to write me a love song, make it sincere
and when you read it to me, sing it like you mean it because I'm ripping open my rib cage and letting my heart fall out on the floor beneath your feet.
I'm not sure what you intend to do with the sweetness in your voice
but remember I don't prefer light words
or heavy ones, for that matter, that weigh down your being
like rocks sewn into your ankles.
There's no use pouring water into a cup that's already full,
are you still listening?
Do the butterflies in my tummy tell me lies
or do you really love me enough to stick around through my times of intense thunderstorms?
Through the constant down pour of insecurities and made up truths?
I can't breathe sometimes
so I take your lips to mine and breathe in the breath in your lungs
hoping to survive solely on the dreams that nestle in the comfort of your mind.
I'm burning like a candle
smoking til my wick burns down
buried deep beneath the lost promises you've made.

If there's one thing you could do for me
and I'd never ask for anything more,
I'd beg of you to wish for me.
Wish for days that start with sun and end with the milky sky hanging light over my unburdened head.
Wish for hot coffee in my cup,
clean dishes in my cupboard,
a self ran washing machine
and a reason to wake up and smile
because I forgot how to laugh for a second there and when I reached for your hand,
you weren't there.
I'm all over the place and I wish I had a map
other than the one I drew connecting the points of your skin I've managed to kiss.
I love your lips.
Continue reading...
Oct 2013 · 900
High Notes
Feeler Oct 2013
High Notes
Sometimes I want to throw chimes at your head so that maybe you'll respond on a high note. Your words are silence on speed, morphed to seep through the air on a mission from the icy depths of rejection. I'm not sure how things turn so quickly, but they do and I'm not one to question the universe. It's been around for a lot longer than I have. Your superiority complex has a complex of it's own, I've never seen an ego as big as yours high on anger. Cut back on the steroids meat-head.
I just get so **** angry that I always have to be the bigger person. These shoes are too big. I want baby feet and baby shoes to go along with. I'm not ready to give up my grade school ways, yet I already have. **** you for having stubbornness stronger than mine. I lose in every contest we have. Yet another first place ribbon I can pin onto your gorgeous chest. ***** you for being so **** good looking. I just want to throw ugly on your face and hope it sticks, maybe lick it off later when I don't hate you so much. You make me sick.
I can go zero to ten in seconds flat, Kenyans don't have **** on me, my soles run down to a millimeter thin. I've got a headache just piecing together the puzzle that is your behavior. You're dancing circles around me and it's making my head spin. What used to be my angel is the very thing making me beg I had one. God must be laughing because I tell you what, I'm burning at both ends. I feel like you've taken me and shook me out, spun me around and shook me again, holding me by my pleading and sensitivity, you ring me out like a soaking cloth. I'm withering away, blowing in the wind, scattered--
I can't take this **** anymore. You burn through me. I want to puke my guts from my stomach and rid myself of every word you say that I soak up like a ******* sponge.
I can't take it anymore.
Continue reading...
Oct 2013 · 1.1k
Monsters
Feeler Oct 2013
Monsters
I stopped looking for monsters when I realized I was one
with my innate ability to slice you, insides cascading with a pool of blood surrounding your body, wide the **** open.
I gave up on my search when the mirror, toothpaste stains, reflected exactly the monster I searched for deep within the eyes of family, friends and strangers alike. **** those deceitful eyes, wide with false innocence. I dine with the devil, cooking him the burning flesh of the hopeless souls defeated by his beautiful lies.
I remember the day I fell,
my heart was a puddle beneath my feet and hope a flower smashed in my hands. I was deserted, left for dead by the people meant to love me the most. And there it was, a life--if you could call it that--free of broken promises used as the building blocks of the foundation that creates the ruthless world we live in.
I stopped looking for monsters when I realized it wasn't my heart that produced the thumping in my chest. A hollow cavity with squishing like mac and cheese, cheesy wet noodles. The thumping, though, is all unique in itself, the symphony of aching memories crashing against each other beneath the surface of this monster that I am--the distance memories of happiness mocking me.

I don't look for monsters anymore. It seems silly.
Continue reading...
Oct 2013 · 1.3k
Expression
Feeler Oct 2013
Expression
Within the intense buzzing of this draft city
I see nothing written on the faces of children, men, and women. In books,
on the television,
and in every conversation
It's an endless black hole leading to God knows where-
and it's calling my name.

He jams to rock n roll and probes technology with his long fingers.
His eyes tell a story
as his words paint him sunglasses.
Hope's his worst enemy and
longing's his middle name but he'll have you believe it's all guns
and sly comments.
God loves him and so do I
but he's not ones for happy endings.

From the cracks of the sidewalk, I see the world
in snippets and clips,
my reality pieced together.
God shouted from the heavens once
"You are what you are and I am what I am
Nothing else matters, Feeler."
I don't much talk to God these days
when he's in his office. I saw Him at the hospital the other day
and walked the other direction.

Too late to right the wrongs,
close the gaps and heal the wounds. For every occasion
I'll be ready for a disaster.
Bury the past if it does no good
and ignore the self-righteous.
The after life is no place for dead trees.

In a suit of grace and sweet memories, my angle of death says hello
at the end of my bed every night.
Within my heart are answers
to his ancient questions
and within my eyes are
his fears. Back and forth he strides,
staring relentlessly
searching his conscience for answers. Chasing the cool.
Continue reading...
Oct 2013 · 536
Reasons for Inspiration
Feeler Oct 2013
Reasons for Inspiration
Most of the time, I listen,
Short stories, battle scars and romance.
I swear I met Romeo once
or at lease his reincarnate. He had eyes
full of longing.
Most of the time, I find myself waiting,
for answers, time to pass,
and him.
But mostly, I'm happy.

Longing.
It's the burn of a vast hole full of emptiness
right in the center of my chest,
my heart beats hollow within his hands-
half way across the world.

Second story windows used to call my name-
the wind in my hair, free falling.
But I stare and dream constantly of freedom
with dark circles around blood shot eyes.
I try to be a better someone.
Beckon me.

You're pretty with that thousand dollar smile,
bliss.
With your hair in a mess on top of your head-
Satan's got a bid on your soul.

Flowers in my hands, I stand at your door
with my heart, mind and eyes open
ready to free fall into the intensity of your eyes.
I'll wait for you
to come down and find me
in my faded blue jeans
standing with stars in my eyes. Find me.
Continue reading...
Oct 2013 · 836
Shower
Feeler Oct 2013
Shower
I fell apart with the water from the shower head today,
cascading downward, crashing sporadically on the tub floor,
my purpose washed away
down the drain
forgotten forever. The tears,
like daggers, bleeding from my eyes
Oh how I wish the pain was but a nightmare
thrashing in my sleep
a lie on my eyelids.
But it wasn't,
and there he stood before me
with balled fists
so unaware of the tornado inside me
with destruction undefined by words,
hell.
It's a lot like hell,
with the fire behind my words .
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Oct 2013 · 732
Temporary Cracks
Feeler Oct 2013
Temporary Cracks
Chin up my dearly beloved,
with your smile that could coax the sun into rising early
the stars to twinkle brighter
my worries melting away like the butter in this skillet.
I'll make you two eyes, over easy,
finished with a smile of sausage
you never were one for bacon,
let it replace the loneliness on your face like a plague of tomorrow's unknown.
My dearly beloved,
wipe those tears, as I do
with my love like tissues
a blanket sheltering you from the vicious snares of the world
harassing your innocence,
my sweet angel of grace.
You perplex me,
this ***** grey world of angry monkeys we call humans
with their daggers and words of spitfire,
your bright light brings me through to a place of enlightenment
of beauty I thought only existed in fairy tales
and the dreams dancing on the underside of my eyelids.

Dear sweet beloved,
these cracks, they are temporary
with their **** doubts and fears like a virus-
My beloved,
listen to the whispers of my fingertips and lullabies of my hips
and every kiss and tender love song I speak to you with my every thought,
my being,
I tell you-
my being-
is and always has been only for you
with just the purpose of you,
my dearly beloved.
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Oct 2013 · 1.3k
The Purpose of Light
Feeler Oct 2013
The Purpose of Light
Rhythmic typing on the dusty old keyboard,
a rehearsed and half hearted greeting committed to memory through convenience.
These days blur together with the hello's and the goodbye's,
incoming strangers trying to find a purpose.
This desk is like a prison that asks too much and pays too little,
with smiles from distance ghosts and greetings from wounded travelers.
My veins are collecting dusk as my bones grind together
burning at both ends, my seams are frayed and falling apart,
I'm a rag doll.
He stitches patches on my missing parts and bullet wounds,
he calls it love,
picking up the pieces and cleaning up the blood dripping from my bad decisions and messy intentions.
He understands me
with his innocence peeking through his smile,
his eyes are like windows to a world you find in the dreams of little children.
Sometimes I cry at night, wrapped in his arms
the wind of doubt and fear chilling my skin and bones
I want to wrap myself in the warmth of his confidence
basking in the enlightenment that are his thoughts.
My statue, rock of truth.

This dreary life lightened by the simple reality of the breeze that is him,
rustling the dust within me.
My truth.
My escape from dusty keyboards.
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— The End —