I wear my heart on my sleeve,
But please, don't misinterpret my emotional ravings to mean that
You know me .
I have a dozen different hearts,
I can change them like cuffs

That's why I don't guard them
too closely.

I'll cut myself open,
Spill my guts in an instant,
Because
Answering your questions,
Before you can ask them,
Is how I control
which ones
get asked.
I'll tell my sad story with a joke at the end
nail the timing
I guarantee you they will only remember
My laugh

I am open to the point of being closed
I am open to the point of being closed
I'm a theme park with gates left unlocked for so long
that eventually
nobody goes.

Standing there in a big crowd.
I have whisky in my hand, a friend by my side,
and couples surrounding me every way I look.

There's something so romantic about a girl standing alone with a guitar singing out her heartbreak. Her loneliness envelopes me and I think of your face, and all of a sudden I feel alone in a crowd.

The last thing I want is to feel this unfufilled desire for your affection so I say **** that and take another sip.

But the fact is that it is three songs later and I haven't really been listening but instead experiencing. How can one girl with a guitar singing out sad songs have such an affect on me, whisky in hand, a friend by my side, and couples surrounding me every way I look.

Tell me you didn't mean it
Tell me that to you, those words are cheap, rolling off the tongue like butter
but when I hear those words
I think of all the pain that they bring with them
I think of the compromises
of the self sacrificing
of the vulnerability
of the loss that comes inevitability

Did you mean it
I think you did
but to make me feel better just tell me you didn't.

He would sit at his desk
Wrinkled skin, white hair
eyes fluttering as he dozed in and out.

Russian at his core, like ***** on the rocks everyday for 50 years, like spokoynoy nochi and a kiss before bed. His voice, rough and grouchy like sandpaper, yet sometimes sentimental and soft as he would tell of his youth spent meeting movie stars or of his trips across the world. He always enamored me with his stories which he told with a glimmer in his eye and a chuckle in his throat.

I couldn't always please him with my unruly hair, quirky fashion sense, and lackluster cooking, but he always chose to love me and show that he enjoyed my presence.

As a child I pretended to take care of him with my doctor kit and on that day I wished for it to just be a child's game once again.  I wished that I could kiss his boo boos and wipe them away as if it were magic.

I wish I could sit next to him and ask him advice one more time. I wish I could hear more stories of his glory days.

But I have ***** on the rocks, and spokoynoy nochi running through my head before bed to remember him by.

Your personality is like a good cuppa tea.
Wowee you’re just exactly who I want to sit with me.
You somehow have this way of giving people an ability to be free
Just like different types of teas you’re able to help with different kinds of needs.
Like the way a piping hot chamomile calms and comforts
The way a spicy chai can gives me boldness
Green tea energizes and inspires
and the way peach can bring me to the home that is out of physical reach
You are my cup of tea
The friend I want to keep with me.

I feel displaced

Like if I let my guard down for a second, my intentions might be misplaced.

And who is here to reckon with this, it would be simpler if my perpetrator had a name; but I think it's just me to blame.

Displaced; misplaced; intentions unseen;
easily erased.

Maybe if you were able to see me you would understand I only want to be known. But to be known takes being seen and being seen takes being known. We are 0 for 2 and I don't know what it means to cry for help so I just stay here unseen, unknown, displaced or maybe misplaced.

I no longer know.

just like that
there was a switch in her mind that flipped

And reasonable democracy
gave way
to sovereign dictatorship

something about the way you cradled your coffee mug in your palm

while trying to open the car door and talk on the phone to your brother
at the same time

took away her option of resistance

She became overwhelmed by the way you leaned your body against door frames and talked with both hands

The way you concentrated
every time you stirred your coffee with a spoon

They all became like a flood to her and in that forceful deluge, her list of pros and cons washed away and she was left with only you.

clumsy, beautiful you.

I've discovered your indifference
burns stronger
than any shot of whiskey

and, unlike whiskey,
there is no grandfather's secret tomato juice recipe
to cure the hangover
your  c a s u a l  interest
gives me.

your kisses leave me dizzy
but their lack of substance gives me
a sugar headache

I've never been held so gently
but under such temporary tenderness
my bones bend and break

your compliments strike me
like foul ***** during a game

they always sound good when they smack
against the bat


but at the end of the inning
they don't count.

I wish I could sweep you off your feet
The way you swept me off of mine.

But we were not built like planes or rockets,
We can't both be airborne at the same time.