Some things don't hit you


                                                       til you tell somone else.              
                                                      
                                                              "She's
                                                                      never
                                                                                  coming
                                                                                                 back."

First draft of a short story. Check it. Lame title. Having no internet ***** until you use your new found time to do stuff like write. Who'd of thunk? Should have time to perouse soon. ;-{)

http://normanshine.wordpress.com/2012/08/23/new-heaven/

With love they still wilt

                          
                                                                It's okay to let them go



                            
                                                                                                                                Plants don't have feelings

On most days I feel like a cave on the outskirts of a small town in Iowa. A lonely hermit lives there. The cave is a body of tunnels. Some have lanterns waiting to be lit. The hermit lives somewhere in the center. Sometimes the children who have made up stories about the hermit visit the mouth. Full of fear, they yell into it. Yell, "Hello! Are you there?". After a moment of silence their own echos bounce back and startle them. Realizing he is not real, the children laugh. Their laughter fills the small tunnels, and the sound makes the hermit happy. On most days my body is heavy with that sound.

Your lips tasted like smoke
From the buildings you watched burn
While standing dead center

Our bodies are practiced in the art of collapsing

A collapse to make harder
Make stronger

There is this company called life gem
That can turn your ashes into diamonds

We have diamond potential

Welcome to the church of falling apart
The church constructed from the things tempers make
Built from all the rubble collected from every collapse

It’s where we pray
In tears
Red eye gritted teeth frustration
Pray like a seizure sometimes
How I buckle at the backbone
Bulging out my belly
To show you
There’s still beauty inside

If you’ll forgive me
You can take it

10 years is a long time to love someone
Especially for it all to stop in an instant

I know we both prayed for the love to come back
And if these walls could talk they’d be suicidal for some paint thinner
Wanting to forget as badly as we do

And I am sorry seven ways til Sunday
Just seven days til Sunday
Seven chances not to **** up
Before I have to beg forgiveness again

I wanna pick up the pieces
Like broken glass
And make a disco ball
So I can dance small miracles
In a body designed to break

You know
If I had a typewriter big enough to run myself through
I rewrite the rough drafts god never finished
I’d put the psalms back in my voice box
I’d pray calmly

Despite what you might think
There are still ways to be broken and saved

This church isn’t firewood yet

So let’s sing a savage hallelujah
Know that forgiveness is the only way not to be bitter

Then we can collapse heavily into this bed we’ve made

Know we can always remake it in the morning

Welcome to the church of falling apart
With you at the top
Bangin’ away in the bell tower
Finding ways to drown out the cries
Like morphine

Just above your head
There is a slow fire working its way down
So everyone can exit safely
If they want to

We can make angels in the ashes
Like we do in the snow
And then we can rebuild

Lisa looks like she’s stood a little too close
To Dante’s Fireplace
A *** soaked ham left in the dirt
Small crust spots where the skin broke

She’s stopped wearing her dentures
Looks like her face is sinking inside of itself

I was napping
Dreaming about a rock on a hill
That overlooks my city
Was dreaming about what the gun said to the mouth
About how the bullet wanted a kiss

Found her lying in a window
Like a fish whose bowl has just shattered
A bowl that has been ***** for too long

It’s a mixed blessing
The glass bubble burst
The blood

I keep my window shut
The smell of the *** I dumped into the earth
Creeps in
Juicy apple pie smoke fingertips calling

Lisa’s kids
They don’t understand the anger
Don’t feel the neglect until it’s too late

I patch up her face
As she begs
Just don’t call the police
Don’t call anybody
I’m okay
She passes out
On a ***** couch
The kids crowd their mattresses
So they can sleep near her

I think about something I read once
About a company called LifeGem
And how for a small fee
They can turn your ashes into diamonds
Enough for a necklace
Or two bracelets
Several sets of earrings

Even when you’re worthless
You’re worth something

I buy dinner before work
Something fatty and saltier than their tears

She would always say things like
YOLO
You only live once
And then have a drink
Or hang up on a police officer
Or shut a door

YODO
You only die once too
I know how I want to be remembered

She looked at me and said
I think you could be someone
Who I would want to cry at my funeral
Because you would have loved me forever
By then

Even in my nightmares
You have no clothes
And I wake cold-sweat
And my ***** is confused

It would be cliché for me to tell you about
The doves
Beating beneath my heart-heavy breastplate
Only most days I feel like a sad piñata
And I want you to beat the heaven out of me

I know what Satan saw
In his decent
And it was worth the trouble

It wasn’t you
(Conceited)
He didn’t see you

Just the passion
The things I want to do to you

Like a lynching
After being dragged for miles from a horse
By the throat
And called a suicide
Only because I didn’t try to stop them from taking me

I want to love you like I should have known better

I want to catch your breath like a harmonica
With my hand over your mouth
A bent note all heave
Slip between my fingers

Let’s be wrong together
Like a nun in a church
Playing I Want Your *** on me
As if I were a ****** pipe *****
Tuned to the key of hallelujah
With a distortion pedal set to laughter

She shook like a love letter
Dropped from a balcony
I didn’t offer my jacket
Just my arms
So much rusty bear traps
Their damp hinges closing is a lonely song

I want to leave here feeling like a shotgun shell
Thrown to the floor hot
And used for killing something
Like the time between now
And your next misfire

Even if we’re just friends by then
She says
I would want you to be there crying
I couldn’t imagine you
*anywhere else