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  Dec 2014 Jay
Devon Webb
We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.

We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.
It's worth it though.
Jay Nov 2014
Lately I have been numb
I can never write when I am numb,
and the only logical reason I have for being able to write this is the fact that it's 12 am and im drunk
but I'm still somehow able to spell out my words without constantly messing up
I dont know, maybe its magic..
Or maybe I'm falling apart again
I can write my feelings, I can write emotions, I can spell out the colors of the rainnbow in such intricate detail that you would have to read it over 3 times before you understood what I was talking about
But I wont make you do that.
Some days, I feel as if I could write a story about the way your lips curve into a smile like I've never seen before
Some days I could wrap my legs around you and bury my face it the space where your neck and shoulders meet and just relax into you
Some days I think I could rip myself apart and lay the pieces over all of your puddles to keep your shoes from getting wet,
You see, I am in love with you,
desperatly in love with you
utterly, incredibly in love with oyu.
Im hiding behind bulletproof glass windows, like the ones they have in those cop shows
and I'm staring at the mirror while you stare at me and I'm wondering what the **** is going on
I hate the thought of everyone else standing on the outside and looking in while I fall apart
And the thing is, I have no reason to fall apart,
somethimes when im riding in the car, I look out of the window and I think about killing myself,
sometimes I just tell people that im sad and i dont know why and they call me selfish
but how can i be selfish if I cann't even find myself
I got lost somw=ehwere a long time ago and I thought that I could find myself in a church on a street in a house on upton
I thought I could find myself inside a monk named bhudda, I was told he had the secrets to peace and I wanted them so badly
I though I could find myself in a book, but that only gave me a story for a few days and when I finished I was back to square one again and that kinda **** can really ******* up mentally
I thought I could find myself in a blunt and a bottle but I realized that wasn't for me when I was throwing up in showers, toilets and sinks, while a stranger held my hair back and told me not to think and when I left the bathroom some randm **** asked me if I wanted another drink, before I know it im passed out on the floor and im missing some of my clothes and thats not a good life if there ever was such a thing..
I thought I could find myself in a paintbrush but art gives me more anxiety than ever because my hands won't stop shaking from the numbness
So tonight I'll try to find myself in the bottom of a cheap dollar store wine glass, I'll try to wrap myself around the constant drum of my fingers hitting the keys because nobody seems to believe in paper and pencil anymore and tonight I will love you like I've never loved anything in this entire ******* world before,
because I think that everyone I've ever tried to love before was a fluke,
and like that one song says, they're probably broken roads that lead to you,
I'm waiting for the day I get the courage to leave my mirror and walk out of that gray walled, bullteproof window interrogation room,
The day I can finally look into your eyes and tell you how glad I am to finally meet you and ask you where the *******'ve been.
Jay Mar 2014
Today my boyfriend said he loves me
My mother always told me not to say it back if it was something I didn't mean
My father always told boys only say that to get into your jeans
Taylor Swift said a boy would make me feel this way at age 15
I keep thinking about how my life should be
I didn't even want to be with someone until like age 23
But then he came along and showed me a whole new universe I had never seen
He makes me laugh and cry and scream
And I can't help but wonder what three simple words could mean
There is so much I've been told and I don't know what to believe
Three words don't mean anything
I asked him if they did and he said what do they mean to me
I said I didn't know a thing
But if I think about it, I guess it's eggs in the morning when you're hungover from the previous evening
It's being miles away and still not cheating
It's holding hands and PDA and kissing
It's yelling and tears and fighting
It's laughing and it's crying
It's climbing the ladder together, even if there are a ton of steps missing
Maybe it's just listening
Maybe it's everything
Maybe they don't mean anything
Today my boyfriend told me he loves me
I don't love him back
I said I love you too, and it's something I didn't mean
It's not that he isn't good enough..
It's just, the word love isn't big enough to express my feelings
I am enchanted
I am speechless
I am all in, head over heels
Falling down a hill
I am taken back
I am double taking
I am walking on clouds
Words are too small
Actions are too small
The universe is too small
I am too small to be loved.

Today my boyfriend said he is in love with me
I said it back, but it wasn't true.
Jay Feb 2014
There once was a man whose name was Moonie
He was a very handsome man
His skin was sun kissed, dark like a brown bears fur, soft like a baby's curl
And oh, the way his hair curled
Moonie had hair that grew outward instead of downward
His smile was as white as the snow capped mountains
His heart as warm as the coast of Australia, all year round
He smelled like matches and Dark Horse cigarettes
Like everything warm
He dressed like a professional troublemaker
His laugh came from his stomach when he laughed real good
And I've never heard him laugh bad
He loved like a father
Protected like a brother
Teased like a sister
And worried like a mother
He cursed like a sailor
But only when he was angry
Moonie had a fuse so long that if you lit it in January, it would take a whole 365 days for him to explode
But by the time 365 days past it was a matter that didn't really matter anymore
He had a mind like a turtle
He thought thoughtfully, slow and subtle
But he spoke like he knew every wonder of the world
He kissed babies and broke bottles on the backs of ships carrying soldiers off to war
Even though he was confused about what they were fighting for
Moonie spoke of peace and of hope for future souls
He loved everything from the edges of the universe
To the coral that grows in the deepest of the oceans coves
Moonie met a girl, who brought a whole lot of sunshine to his world
She made the lips of his mouth curl
Upward, it was a beautiful sight, especially with teeth that white
Moonie met a girl, he swears by the stars that she is incredible
He says she makes his heart 10 times larger, like it's flowing out so much love that it makes his nose runny,
He calls her Sunny

There once was a girl named Sunny
She was a very beautiful girl
She had curly brown hair that fell just short of her shoulders
Skin that was kissed by the angels themselves
If you believe that kind if thing exists
She dressed like an artist
The kind that like to paint masterpieces
With every curve of the brush
She smelled like summer, like home, like sunshine peaking through rain clouds
She planted roses for those she lost,
In hopes of continuous growth and beauty
She spoke with the authority of an officer
But also with the gentleness of a butterfly
Her personality was layered like a Russian doll
And as you opened up every part of her she grew so very small
But not small in the bad way,
She was wise like an owl
But she was happy like a child at play
She cared like the ocean cares for sea creatures that swim in its depths
She cried like it was always rainy season
She laughed with a sadness in her eyes that was easy to detect
But she was happy
And she loved a man named Moonie
And he made her happy
And she swears on the rings that circle Saturn
That he is the most beautiful man on the planet

Sunny and Moonie lived together in a cozy home by the ocean
Where it was never too hot or too cold
They had a beautiful garden, that sprouted all different kinds of things,
Pumpkins that grew tomatoes
Watermelon that grew on trees
Potatoes that grew above the ground
Flowers with yellow stems and baby blue leaves
Beautiful birds flew around, bluejays with mocking jay wings
Their family was the world around them and they wanted and needed for nothing
Moonie was so happy
Sunny was so lovely
The things that they did, how incredibly they lived
How wonderful life had become
When moonie and sunny both lived as one

Then one day when Moonie was down by the beach
Sunny was in their little green house, fast asleep
Moonie slipped on a snail shell and fell into the pretty sea
When it got late Sunny worried and went to see
She called and she called
Moonie was nowhere to be found
He had fallen asleep forever, in the ocean's underground
The sharks and the octopus found Moonie and buried him deep
The sea urchin said we must bring him back!
But the turtle insisted that we must let him sleep
The flounder found Sunny by the shore and they brought her the news
The look in her eyes was as if her heart had been bruised
She look to the sky as dark clouds rolled in
The raindrops dropped to the rhythm of the tears on her skin
Her Moonie was gone forever in the ocean blue
She threw herself into the ocean saying take me with you
The flounder, the turtles, the mer-people and creatures of the sea
Tried to stop her from suffering the same fate as her dear Moonie
But she would let them save her as she fell into the deep,
Whispering, I love my Moonie and my Moonie loves me
She sank and she sank
She fell and she fell
She floated right next to her love
In the oceans pink sand
The most beautiful death in all of the land
Moonie swore by the stars that his Sunny was magnificent
And Sunny swore by the rings on Saturn that Moonie was the most beautiful man on the planet
They died together but they're souls rose separately
Moonie rose for the night
His love rose for the day
Sunny became the Sun
Moonie became the light that snuffed out the darkness of that day
And as they lived in their respective spots in the sky
They saw each other from time to time
They might have been punished for loving too much
Or they might've loved so much that the universe needed them to take care of us
For the Moon now takes care of the oceans tide
And the Sun takes care of you and I
I think Sunny and Moonie had it right
Even though they no longer see each other everyday,
their love is something you don't have to look so far to find
Maybe that's why you sometimes find the Moon and the Sun in the same sky
They're so close to finding each other, but they have so little time
Jay Feb 2014
If you decide to buy me flowers
I may press them in my hardcover copy of Shel Silverstein
Because I know that it's your favorite book of poems to read
If you decide to kiss me goodnight
I may kiss you back
Because self-control among other things is what I lack
If you decide to hold the door open for me
I may walk through
Because that's the polite thing to do
If you decide to hold my hand
I may grab yours and hold it close
Because we fit so perfectly and it would be hard for me to let go
If you decide to tell me you love my curly hair
I may wear it that way
Because I don't get complimented on it everyday
If you decide you want to pay for the date
I will not touch the check
Because it's not classy and I'm classy as heck

But if you decide to say that you love me
I may not return the statement
Because you might not feel that way,
Once you see the demons I keep in my basement.
Jay Jan 2014
It had been said that writing is the window to the soul
As if our souls have been locked in the houses of our bodies
The flesh and blood of empty shells that have waited so long to be embodied
When we die our bodies get put on the market
Our friends become nothing, we become the homes of maggots
We rot until the soil finishes our bones
Leaving nothing left but soft soil where we grow real live homes
Made of brick and of high plaster ceilings
Or we might grow temples, as we give our souls to some higher being, kneeling
On hardwood floors,
with concrete steps that lead up to chapel doors
And if you're not one for religion than we might build grocery stores
Lined with meats and cheeses, spilled milk on the floors
Because of toddlers who have had too much sugar
We may even build centers for children who flick their boogers
Or homes for the folks who can no longer walk
Hospitals for those we have deemed unfit because they chose not to talk
I suppose they may build whatever your soul has become
I suppose they may build a window to your soul, a literal one
If you could look into your window after death, do you think
That if you peer hard enough, close enough..
Do you think you would like what you see?

It has been said that writing is the window to the soul
As if we are locked in a prison of flesh and blood
Maybe it's why so many people feel less than enough
And maybe it's the universe's idea of punishing us
Because this whole house of flesh is covered in muscle and blood
Moving body parts, cells,thoughts and emotions like love and lust
Pushed all together supposedly the way we're supposed to be
Souls like caged animals waiting to break free
Like my rib cage can't hold the thousands of lifetimes sewn into my soul
Because a soul is too big for 342 bones to hold
With lifetimes yet to mold
If I truly am caged, there is just one more question I must ask of thee
Do I really want to be free?

If writing is a window to the soul
Then my body must be a home
But I want you to look into my eyes and tell me what you see
Because if I'm supposed to feel at home,
why does this house feel empty.
Jay Jan 2014
We usually look ahead
Ahead to the future
Ahead to what's next
What's coming up
We see happy homes and
Financial security
We see the mark we want to make on the world
We see everyone else's footsteps
Sometimes we choose to look to the side
We see friendships that are as sure as there is snow on the ground in wintertime
We notice the beauty in a lovers eyes
We see children, we see the marks already made by someone else
We rarely look behind
We want to leave out mark on the world
We want people to remember us for something
We see everyone else's footsteps but we do not see our own
We do not see the smiles we've created
We do not see the lives we have saved
We do not see our footsteps because we do not choose to look back
"Leave the past in the past"
This statement is proven to be smart
But what we fail to see
Is that our footsteps can make art
If you take a second each and every day
You might see the impact that you've made
Because sometimes we imprint in the sand or in the snow
And sometimes it fades away. But the earth underneath will always know
You are special
You are beautiful
You are kind
And the imprint of your footsteps is something you should keep in mind
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