“You Look So Happy”
happy you say?
you don’t see the cut
i use to pay
the smile that i shut
you don’t see my pain
when i hide away
i choose to abstain
yet i cry anyway
you don’t see the drunken smile
but that, i cannot hide that i am upsot
is this worth your while?
“What?”
what you murmured
you don’t understand it
understand my cravings
cravings for pain
pain that’s too deep
you don’t understand my tears
tears over her
her who broke me
me, the once whole human
you don’t understand my heart
my heart that’s broken
broken, shattered, not pumping
pumping the blood i need to live
“Oh”
you understand
ugly understanding now i’m gone
absent abuse now i’m a ghost
vanished violation now i disappeared
all gone, now that i’m gone

There comes a time in every person’s life when they need to make a choice.
A choice about love
A choice about life
A choice about which path to take
A choice.
It’s funny considering I’ve made probably all the wrong turns.
About love
About life
And even about which path to take.
I think I chose the wrong path.
But now?
Now I think I chose life.
I choose to love each person.
I choose to go on the “right” path.
I choose life.

By your touch.
The touch of soft, velvety fingers.
The touch of silky smooth sheets.
The touch of your heartbeat against mine.

By your voice.
The voice of comfort.
The voice of soothing words.
The voice of love. (see poem "To Love")

By your smell.
The smell of perfume.
The smell of sharpies.
The smell of cigarettes.

But I'm not only intoxicated by you. I'm intoxicated by so many other things.

But I'll leave that for another day.

sometimes
                                                       ­                         my
                                     ­ brain
                       doesn’t
                                                       ­     work

right
                                                ­                               and

                             my

                                              thoughts

     ­                                         scatter

               ­                                                    like
                               beads

                                     spilled
                               on
                                                              ­                 tile

floor