Sometimes when I see what people have the capability of doing, I wonder if there is anything else besides blood and bones.
Sometimes when I like a boy. He always likes to twitter pate my friends hearts. Sometimes if my friend has no desire, the boys still come crawling, right past me.
This is not just a one time thing. This is a reoccurring event. kind of the like the bickering that goes on at my house during the weekends.
Sometimes it gets sad.
Sometimes when I open my heart and my love flies out like a bird leaving its cage for the first time, something goes wrong. My bird's wings maybe don't work. Maybe there was a killer just waiting to shoot down the newly free creature. Or maybe, my bird just can't handle the pressure and is crippled. Whatever it is like, and it is different in every situation, My heart is become such a raw sore. This is not because of one event. Let me be clear.
This is the build up of heartaches after letdowns and broken wishes.
Sometimes, on chilly nights like these. When I am cuddled up sipping hot coco and eating warm chocolate chip cookies, I just wonder. Why have I let my feelings control me for so long?
Why have I put myself through this? The only solution I can come up with is that all of these times that my feelings are torn apart by these creatures we call MEN, are just preparing me for my infinite love that I will have someday.
Sometimes I smile because I KNOW someday, I will be greatfull for the broken winged heart because I will have never had the chance to meet this future peice of my puzzle.

Jeremiah refused to be rescued in mixed company.
I threw a going away party
in the hopes of his failing resurrection.
Pseudo somber faces filled the kitchen,
made up with pictures of rustic barns
and floral wallpaper;
the heat became too much to bear.

Our friends payed homage,
placing regifted bottles of
coop and kraken
on the mantle,
and wrote letters of congratulations
signing their names backwards
in my guest book.
The day lost its luster
and coffee mugs of champagne
ran empty.

Conversations danced
around truth and honesty
escaped out the window.
I saw a stranger in the corner.
His name tag read Sinner
and his guilt left ink
on his forearms.
I asked him to read my palm
and he confessed how much
he loved wakes.

My laughter shattered the static.

I've dug this up from the gravel of my being,
felt this sediment,
scraped through all the layers
to find small scattered bones.
owl puke.
that's my softness,
that's childhood
               and
           a reason for wanting to destroy it.

enough fire wood
enough energy
then
too much energy
                                and
the lights go out.

a contribution of what you learned that day fed to you at the dinner table.

coffee eyes dreamed about good mornings,
sugar kisses his lips, his eyes,
his cheeks
stomach,
legs,
papered skin layered in dreams.

dreams of
                   gold shedding from the sky,
words painted beneath the flesh,
              eyes shut to see what's inside.

how are you going to see what's outside if your eyes are always shut?

I am making a desicion
to clean my body of
your hollow whispered bruises
cracks in my diaphragm
your words left sizzling there
like acid that dripped from your lips
I forgot the deception that swam from your eyes
I have never been stupid
enough to believe
that you were only one
when there were three.
But we stood and watched that house burn
never feeling colder,
than we did that night.
Im sorry your brother died and took
your parents with you.
So you are an orphan that
demonstrated car crashes
in the mere rhythm of your hands
or melody of your speech.
But I find myself drawn to angry cobalt blue eyes
too often enough to know that
I cannot grapple out of your choke-hold
and frozen fingers will bruise me every shade of your
roaring ocean-like blue.
I can only admire the sapphire in your soul from a distance
and hope the red ruby rage turns to wine and not blood.
I have left my marks on too many wooden floorboards, pleaded with too many icy aquamarine eyes;
from boys with steel in their voices but a fury in their hearts.
Too many fingernails stuck between infinite spaces somewhere in houses
where the silence reminded me of the stillness of a teal lake in spring
your eyes are reminiscent of a grey morning I do not wish to remember
I will leave a mark here.

Sitting here, in this dark room.
***** white blinds,
and a bed sheet runs through.
A temporary bed on the kitchen floor.
Looking through smoke filled air,
I can't say I don't want more.