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there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the ****** and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to ***** up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?
he is not heaven. he is not a deep breath of fresh air after being
trapped inside for so long he is suffocation. when his saturated fingers
touch me I am filled with a never ending fire that keeps me
awake until two a.m. and makes me question everything I've
ever believed. he likes to swear up and down on the metal cross
around his neck and pretend he is God when he looks at me.
his kisses are never filled with love they are filled with narcotics
and taste like a bittersweet kind of hatred. he smokes quietly and
slowly inhaling every toxic fume and making clouds
big enough to convince you that they are skies. everything about him
screams shades of cool he is blue he is black his smile is gold
his eyes are grey and he is the color spectrum at its darkest.
he speaks quietly and laughs loudly and cries silently when
he thinks nobody can hear him. I wake up every morning to the
sound of tiny bullets of water scorching his back but he
likes the burn so I do not say a thing. he loves the way I sing
and teases me endlessly and whispers ****** things when
our friends are around because he is an exhibitionist.
I do not know what this is. I do not know who he is.
but at the same time I do not know who I am either,
we are cataclysmic together and wreak havoc wherever we go
but there is something so beautiful about what a disaster
we are together that i do not want to say goodbye.
he is the lover I never have to worry about loving back
and that if nothing else matters

(h.l.)

11.25.15
"oh **** i think i'm falling in love again. someone pass me the *****, this is going to be one helluva year"

colors by halsey
for a brief moment
caught in remembering
vividly she came back to me
the sunlight on her face
strands of her reddish blonde hair
floating free in the small space between us

what words passed between us
long since faded
but the heart remembers the love
known between us that day
with a clarity that speaks so clearly to me
the heart knows what the mind fails to hear

and my heart still speaks of you to me
still sketches your beautiful face in my dreams
in such sweet living breathing quality
i cannot help but feel that i lost a world of love
when i lost you

your hand in mine
our souls still linger in each others arms
kissing tenderly and passionately like lovers do
at least that is what my heart tells me
Sitting.
Inside a four walled place

building another made-up space
where the voice of reality is
a background melody
as I sing to the lyrics of you
from my memory

Smiling.
Unconsciously I look like a fool

directing another romantic film
where you’re still meant to be, the one
that revives each part of me
that has died long time ago
in the graveyard of your memory

Daydreaming.
Writing words I wish you would say

and painting images I hope would stay
Still inside this made-up space
where we move in a very graceful pace
towards where you and I are the reality
towards creating memories of our destiny
© Lizley (Maria Flordeliz Yamog)
|11.20.2015|
I don't care. Right here, right now, I know we are the truth from a memory. At least we were never a lie made and pushed into the reality.
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