i've spent my entire lifetime running
running away
running in circles
running myself into the ground

it isn't fun, anymore
my feet have gotten heavy

i remember that night you drove **** near 100 miles
so we could go to the park and play lava-monster
i didn't know the rules
you were patient

there
in the decaying fall air
with your news-boy cap pulled down over my eyes and my arms stretched out into the darkness
searching for you
i felt right
for the first time in my life i felt fine

i haven't feld good, since

i wish i knew then what i know now

that i may likely never see you again
that you were leaving
that you're a runner too

i guess it is true
you get what you give

my feet have become granite
stones not meant to be resurrected from the earth
my globe's nothing but a paper-weight, now
the atlas is never cracked
because i can't find you on a map
and your arms are the one place that i long to be

silly, really
the way the head and the heart are incapable of speaking to each other honestly

now and then
the wind rests
for just a moment
and through the dry wyoming air
i catch your scent trail
like a glimpse of heat-lightning in the far horizon
but just like you
it's gone in an off-set heartbeat

the tumble weeds sing your name as they slink across the plains
stirring my insomnia into a craze
that can only be calmed by night-sky air
i search for your face in the shadows of the moon
as my calls to you rise with my steam-heated breath
and disappear into the stars

i wonder if you lay awake all night
swearing that the constellations are all begining to align
with the sole purpose of pointing you towards me

"I had dreams"
this phrase scares me,
because its always,
the pretense,
to nightmares.
Horrible nightmares,
of things that
are real,
never fake.
Sometimes I wish,
my dreams,
were of silly things,
like imaginary monsters,
or little,
irrational fears,
but they aren't.
My dreams are filled with horrors done
to people I know,
children I know,
and love,
being abused,
and in my dreams
i'm frozen,
and I can't move.
I'm forced to watch
the little boy and girl,
no more than three years old,
get beaten,
and screamed at,
by an unknown force,
in a dark corner,
in an empty room,
and i'm in the shadows,
watching.
Their screams,
echo in my ears,
terrible screams,
but my mouth is sown shut,
and my eyes,
forced open,
and waking up,
is no relief,
because I know,
that those dreams,
are not to far,
from reality.

The hair that fell to my waist
Heavy like a curtain
And blonde
And parted on the side
That covered my bare *******
and got in the way of kissing
And It got stares
And It got petted
Like some fine horse
With some fine mane
A rare prize
And the drunk boy
Sitting next to me
That I didn't notice
Who was twirling it around his ***** finger
And that other man
That I didn't notice
Who became obsessed with It
His ***** fetish
And in the middle of the night
He did Those Things
So one day
I just cut It off
Above my shoulders
And everyone was sad
Why WHY why
Did you cut your hair?
But we still like It

So I just cut it off

Until it was above my ears
And I can see the disappointment
Of Everyone Else
Who doesn't understand
So sad
about It
And I smile.

What does a man do
On his very last day?
Does he call his best friend,
to lie a hello?
Does he open a drink,
for drunken last breaths?
Does he hug his children,
and say they were best?
Does he hide in a cellar,
just waiting for Death's knock?
Does he write a few things,
hints and advice?
Does he find those who wronged him,
and take them along?
The wise man will sit there,
like there's nothing wrong.
He ponders his days,
things once, things past,
holds his love dearly,
sweet, beautiful love,
giving him hope,
that there is this 'above',
though pain creeps in,
he smiles yet still,
life plays like a record,
1941-1992,
But yet, 1941 is not where it had begun,
He remembers it clear from 1947,
And he has forgotten much from the last 3 years,
but what he did, he does not fear,
he accepts what he's done, laughs a good laugh,
forgetting what he'd do, if given a second path,
So this my friends, may I say it clear,
Do not stare long at that first year,
and do not think much of that last,
for what was done is done, and all in that dash.

when you and i dance it is electric shock
and you are water and i am ice.
you conduct and share, spread like
wildfire heat and burn and
so don’t think i am nervous when you touch me
it is me
not you, never you
it is me who is too old and too frozen
to allow the free current to rumble through my skin.
it is a surprise,
a present,
when you let the warmth flash into my bones
but please remember that it is hard for me to hold
this gift
without dropping it.
humans have their half-hearts and
yours are so full
it’s been so long to remember heat
that sometimes i let the ice taste like
metal, like wood
like stolen promises and betrayed kisses
and then when you touch me
it is a surprise present
but one that i will take all too gladly
because i am selfish
and you have so much to give.
you are your mother and your father
and you are your own traveler
so let me come into your home
and make a mess of things
with my poor conductor heart.
i may never tell you i love you
but just know that it is not words that fail me
you would know i was lying if i said
i was anything other than a storyteller,
a wordsmith, a forger of weapons from syllables
and tongue against teeth and vocal chords,
but it is the surprise of electricity
that keeps my mouth fumbling.
let me marry you in forever ago
and now
because you are a surprise, a present,
and i have come to need you
in a way that i haven’t needed
and i cannot keep you in the box
of people i love
because they always come out broken
and i demand your circuitry, your
flow over me.
you must never break
again
because you torture yourself with
your own shock, your own pulse
and i cannot choose your fate;
that is yours to do with what you will,
but i can choose how to feel.
so maybe when the day comes
and the towers sing and i cry
i will cry not from the sadness of your leaving
but cry at the happiness of your staying
and the knowing that you and i
are the choosing ones
that have chosen electric-shock-pain
in the logic of you and i in union.

Your eyes are like the ocean,
Vast, and pretty blue,
My eyes have one intention,
They’re only set on you,
I love you more than anything,
I know you feel the same,
The most beautiful girl in the world,
And she’s driving me insane,
I can’t even focus,
Can’t conjure up a phrase,
I could go on and on,
And talk of you for days,
Absolute perfection,
And every bit of my,
Love is summed up in four letters,
J-o-d-i

Dear heart you'll be okay and survive the pain,
Don't try to forget the memories for they will always remain.
Listen and get lost in the music for it is all you have left,
and steal another's heart like it was theft.
Nine thousand miles away is everything you know and love and though it kills to be so far,
Don't try to end it all with another scar.
Live for today 'cause tomorrow may not be,
However everything does have a cost; nothing is free.
I know I love you hurt cause you thought it was the truth,
Don't let it destroy your inner youth.

The sun is setting in the pretty west
The colours reflect in the mountain stream
All the birds fly homeward to their warm nest
And I go homeward so I too can dream.
The katydids are calling from green grass
Mingles with the sound of the waterfall
Reminds me of golden days that have passed
I hear the beautiful wood thrush's call.
The lilacs fill my bedroom with perfume
Her petals were made by gifted fairies
I put her in a vase so she can bloom
All through my room her perfume carries.
God make my life to brighten other's more
I hear the sweet wood thrush's call no more.

~Marian~