It has been raining
For so long that
I have grown accustomed
To the sound of
Sloshing puddles
Being tossed around
By the traffic outside
My window.

Inside my bedroom,
Laying in the pitch black
With nothing but a
bright, white screen
In front of me,
Squinting as I listen
To the motors and
The sloshing puddles
Trying not to think
Of you.

Even breathing
Next to me,
The sky lightening and
Illuminating the tapestry
Over my window that
Mildly mutes the sound
Of the sloshing and
The motors as I lay
Trying not to think
Of you.

Facing the edge,
A corner of the covers
Covering me,
I feel exposed
And not because
I'm naked and the blanket
Doesn't cover.

The shadow breathes
Sighing next to me and
Rolls over taking more
Of the warmth with it.
And I'm cold.
Not because of the covers
Or because I'm naked.

I need you.

The motor sounds and
Sloshing puddles are outside
My window and if I focus hard
Enough I won't cry as I try
Not to think
About you.

It starts as a drop.
One single drop.
It spreads over the heated
Surface multiplying into many.

Before you can control it
Before you have a chance to
Stop the reaction
It goes without your permission,
The catalyst sparked.

The heat fuels it,
The oil flavors it,
The salt encourages,
And it bubbles.

Turn down the heat?
Not yet.
Let it simmer,
Be patient,
So it builds.

Just let it be,
Watching it won't help
The focus,
Until it boils.

Snap and release,
Relax and let ease
Into the boil,
Into the heat.

Plump and soften,
Ripe to eat.

You're 5 foot 6 inches,
you know, not the 5 foot
8 inches that you claim
on the face of your
Texas driver's license--

Your hair was long
and curly then, and so sunny
beach blonde that you
could have walked right
out of the ocean and--

Right, thinking about
your driver's license at 6am
not having been to sleep
isn't what I should be thinking about.

But it is.

Your quiet disposition,
offering a distinct proposition,
Your eyebrow delivering
due suspicion as it
raises in question.

That look
so hard to deny,
as I sway my hips
sauntering towards you
methodically, calculated
like a pendulum on a
grandfather clock.

As I reach the edge
of the bed where you lay,
knees following behind my
hands as I crawl towards you
on the smooth,
navy blue sheets.

It's not an electricity
but a hot pulse
that I feel, as I lay
my head gently on
your chest, as you stare
at me:

Like a predator
stalking his next meal
casually, as he allows the
prey to come to him.

Then you stroke my
hair with such tenderness,
pulling my body into
yours with such care

Knowing that you would
be more than content
just to be able to hold me.

Vivid depictions
of street corners
with glaring lamps
lighting only
a portion of the walk,
as you stroll in and out
of the spotlight

Flashing glances
from strange passerby,
as they shuffle on their
daily commute to
wherever it is
they are going

Sitting Straight,
upright in the
blue chairs,
in the classes
that come and go
and leave no more
of a mark on you
than they did
before you stepped
in the room

Flashing Lights
from the neon sign
as an advertisement
for the bare skin
& money &
alcohol that just
goes right through
you in the end

Forced smiles
for the customers
who are not buying
anything, but insist
that the prices
are lower, that
You have no idea
about the products in
your own store, and that
you're wrong

Simple Connection
between one person
and another, the community
created between one heart's
compassion and another's
misfortune, sharing in a bond
so undeniably deep
cradling the essence of
humanity in the folds

That time I stooped
down really low to the ground
just to hear where the cricket
sound was coming from,

lingers just as the smell
of the wet grass in
springtime when it's
a vibrant shade of green
instead of dead shade of brown.

That time that we pinky swore:
"I'll go if you go",
untamed matted hair flying
through the wind as we ran
as fast as we could right up to
that hill and tucked into a tumble,
rolling like over-sized armadillos
down our very own
vibrantly green
nature slide.

That time we were at
your house, and the permanent
markers were begging for us
to pop off their smooth shiny caps,
as our Barbies relaxed in your
Malibu Barbie Pink Sports Convertible.

The makeup and tattoos
in red and vibrant green and blue
that graced the hard plastic skin
of their smiling faces
never came off.

Pouring a glass of skim milk
and squeezing a bottle of
Hershey's chocolate syrup
into the glass,
until the last drop is drained
from its wheezing container

Watching, as the chocolate
settles at the bottom of the
glass, creating a barrier
between the creamy ivory
and the sticky, rich brown.

Taking a spoon
and putting it in the glass,
stirring up the milk and
forcing it to take on
the identity of the chocolate,
the spoon clinking merrily
as it churns two very
distinct substances
into one entity:

The milk with the
brown sugar coating,
Allowing for you
to think for a moment:
the skim milk
doesn't taste so bad.

Each individual jelly-belly
jellybean in a clear bag
tied with a red wire
is so different from each
other individual jelly-belly
jellybean in that clear bag.

The one that I find,
without fail,
without fault,
is always the one that
tastes like black licorice.

The sticky, overly sweet,
bitter black gunk that junks
up my perfectly good bag
of jelly-belly jellybeans,
and I am never paying
enough attention
to catch myself
before I pop it
into my mouth,
unaware that I will be
receiving: not cotton candy,
not coconut, nor cherry or lime,
but a black piece of bitter-sweetness,
whose taste always seems to linger.

Sitting on the cold grass
today makes my stomach
hurt. The sun that would
normally warm and greet
my dreary disposition
only keeps the wind at bay
long enough to play the
jacket game:

Pulling the sleeves of my
royal blue petticoat
with ******* buttons,
onto my arms, shimmying
it until the collar rests
at my neck, as a makeshift
cheaper Snuggie.

Then as the sun peeks out from
behind the clouds, warming the
ground, I'm shuffling off the rolled up
blue sleeves, pushing the jacket into
a heap at my feet.

That tapestry,
Red, Black, Gold
A Celtic Circle--
silently bearing witness
to the proceedings
of that smoky room:

The aquariums--one with
the large eel who seemed
to barely fit the tank
that took up half the wall;
and the smaller, vibrantly
colored fish in the
aquarium with the eggshell
colored coral.

The remixed music played
at a comfortable volume,
by the DJ we knew
so well, together;
as many times
it hardly seemed like
he was working at all,
as he just sat down and
talked to us, for hours.

Looking through
those over-sized books of
old advertisements,
and explanations of
historical artwork;
discussing the contents
with strangers,
who became friends
in the process.

Smoke billowed, enveloping
the atmosphere and filling it
with the smell of many spice
racks, pleasantly rolled in a
shell of a soft breeze
flowing from the oscillating fan.

The smell of joy,
of a relaxed sense of mutual
understanding; that it was okay
not to say a word, because the
atmosphere did the talking
for us.

We just enjoyed sitting
on those red pleather couches
that your **** sank back into,
not allowing my feet to touch
the floor; so they often just
dangled, legs swinging
to the tempo of the music.

As I took a hit
of the hookah,
I manipulated the smoke
into O's, puckering
my lips, trying not
to laugh as you
gazed at me in a
shy sense of wonder.

That face always made you
want to kiss me.

The clouds of curiosity
fluffing up like pink cotton candy,
the kind you get at the county fair.
A blooming pink fluff of a sugary
capacity, to fill your mouth
with the most desirable thirst
for lemonade that you've ever had.

Allowing for the sweet granules
to melt blissfully on your tongue,
savoring each and every sweet
morsel
'til you don't even realize that
the pink fluff is all gone.

Then you are riding on a perpetual
rush from the sugar
seeping into your bloodstream
aiding your curious adventure,
seeking as the lights from
the Ferris Wheel tantalize.

The fear of the top of the ride
worth the rush on the way down,
the people seem much smaller than
you expected;
but the rush,
well, the rush speaks for itself.

Ambiguous sky so full of color:
Your rosy complexion mocks my pain,
Driving along a winding serrated edge,
waiting upon the precipice of disdain.

Disdain for all the wrong reasons,
dulled by the sense of an ache,
Riddled with unspoken treason,
wanting it all to change.

The seasons predictable in essence,
as is our merry-go-round,
With a circle change is impalpable,
It just ends where it begins,
In essence.

Fate thought a pliable substance,
no longer can be changed,
A hardened shell of circumstance,
a vivid truth guarding the way.

Though I can change my path,
the road to you is closed,
I cannot travel down it once more,
to be enveloped in your throes.

I cannot end this rhyme,
without saying something rash,
so I will end it here,
with an itch that will go unscratched.

The skies are sad today,
the sun shows not its face
to welcome my flight into
its skies.

Grey clouds and wind,
most unwelcoming
as I make my journey
to the Northeast.

I can't escape my thoughts of you,
even on a plane,
as I fly away,
my future as muddled as the skies,
as ambiguous as a paper cup
in the midst of everyday humdrum.

I watch the people,
bags in hand,
headed to loved ones
in foreign lands,
and it calms me a bit to know,
that even though there will be snow,
and ice and cold and wet,
that there will always be a sunset,
another day put to rest,
another time,
another place,
another unforgettable face.

The steam billows onto
my contemplating face as I
Think
about the consequences

Distractions will not allow
my mind to focus on a
single
thought

My heart and my mind tugging
at one another, the song
ironic
playing in the background

Sighing with relief as it changes
to something that doesn't
apply
to my direct life situation

The new song is catchy,
pulling me from the
depths
of my inner struggle

Tapping my foot to the beat,
But slowly slipping back into my
contemplative
far off
stare...

Mechanical reactions
slither through the cortex,
Binding our beliefs into
a solid jellied mass.

The peons go without a care,
wisdom is not their share,
only to be appeased
in the short term
is their game.

Yet the one who dances freely,
Gracefully fluttering down the walk,
gets stared at and gawked at,
Ridiculed and mocked.

The program
does not recognize the patterns
that are involved,
and the programmers are just too vain
to change the program's
stiff and rigid brain.

So while the programs interact,
the dancer keeps on dancing,
sensibilities in tact.

She notices the patterns,
the snide remarks behind her back,
the stares, the whispers, wonders,
of the program's capacity cap.

How she wishes just one
free person could truly understand
what it's like not to be a robot,
but a compassionate human.

Seas of judgement, seas of motion,
Seas of jealously and hate,
motivated by confusion,
in this altered AI state.

One day there is a person
walking out of sync,
the rest of the people shrink away
from the lone independent freak.

Free thought and new ideas
Are poison to their wires,
new data it can handle,
but independence acts like fire:

Burning through the program
like an arrow with a purpose,
piercing through its hardened heart
rendering the program worthless.

The boy who parted the sea of monotony
found this dancing girl,
and together created a barrier
shattering programs with a twirl.

By the power vested in me,
I command you to think,
Think twice about your actions
or you will find that you will sink
Into a sticky, jellied mass
where your thoughts will cease to think.

As I sit silently,
Observing my room darkening around me,
Hearing the muffled murmurs of passerby,
I wait for the clock to strike upon the nine
for that is when I will be fulfilled.

There is little light
save for the fading light from my window
and the light by which I write
these musings seem dry and empty
of the vigor and posterity of my past.

Austerity and harshness replace
my normally warm and delicate features,
and even my writing feels estranged from me.

My hands that were my hands
do not spring forth a wealth of creativity;
stifling darkness surrounds.

Wallowing is not in my nature
as I remind myself,
and yet here I still lay.

In the company of a turtle,
By the light of its heating lamp
contemplating life's lessons
and feeling that heart tug
in a place deep down

Slipping sorely into a
sleepy state of sentient syllogisms
as logical as a bat sleeping under water
Distractions abound

Eyes heavy as the body begins the process
of hibernation while the brain fights
fervently for its moment in...

It boiled out of me
like a sharp harpoon,
pinning me to a wall
of certain destiny.

Swimming in the fate
I thought I had
tipping into a jar of vanity.

The transitioned lenses
seeing past and future
concurrently,
Shake their heads in protest
with confidence to be feared.

What makes one doubt,
to question the path of inconsequential,
Who gathers the berries
and decides which are sweet
and which are bitter?

Only to taste is to know,
to experience and to feel,
to revel and relate,
to touch and know.

Thank you for coming along for the ride,
Take your seat sir or madame,
Ride in style,
Take a seat,
it's guaranteed to be worthwhile.

Just stay sitting
enjoy the feast
of ravishing delight
feast your eyes
upon the merriment
simply gaze upon this sight:

The coyotes
they bring the howling
catcalls and beer nonetheless
Simply dashing in tuxedos,
Simply smashing up the guests

Tumble over chairs to see
the magical attraction
of the heat between your knees
that fantastical reaction

Simply dripping with disease
that undeniable distraction,
With the sparkling eyes
and wandering hands
she slips her fingers
in
to a come hither gesture
what lies in store
what lies in wait is in the measure.

Follow her to the depths
assuring your destruction,
instead to find
you find the light,
dysangelion satisfaction.

Wild poets stylizing
beating the drum that must be heard:
Call from the depths that ancient heart beat,
Fill that genie ***: a word.

Snaking, Smoking, Slithering,
abundant with passionate lashing,
Tongue in cheek, match the beat,
Feed our hungry hatchling.

Unnerved by the dogged inaccuracies
Plagued by the sources that know,
Round about they seek the truth:
No further they must go.

To create a straight and narrow path
Out of the circle you must come,
Raised a glass anew,
Darkness must be overcome.

Nay, Nay, Nay, Nay
Faith is naught with you,
Belief comes from a higher power,
It is not your job to rescue:
For I am not lost.

On the hill where our *father lies,
Under a breadth of dew,
he lays there and he testifies
that he saw the King of the Jews.

Find the beat again,
Is it there, Charlie?
Do you hear it in your soul?
Rattling the cages of time,
you seem so very controlled
and you still have
a very long way to climb.

Daemon,
Purring animal that aids my hand
Coursing through my blood as
I attempt to dominate the page
with blank ink:

No pencil,
No tape-recorder,
No pen,
It is going,
It is going...

You cruel temptress
Who mocks me on a whim
or insatiable creativity,
that imagination
that explodes with vibrant imagery
when your back is turned
and the camera is off.

Scrambling like a father
urging their child to
"Do It Again"
Forced to beg the imagination
to allow me into its folds,
on my knees in utter
curious desperation:

No *genius am I,
but to be with you,
I seek.

Scintillating communication
between strangers as they
magnetize the words together
into a stimulating story of
strung together words:

While every sailed bridge sweetly floats under evil
I do best sitting at peace.
One lived as some had fallen,
Steal the King's singing & beg him to sing louder
Knowing Ocean's rising storm as
Gentle music should drift so people can hear it whisper.

They found their beach of spring after the river
Coming against these cruel spinning mountains of the night skies,
We still use hate, though most don't go by this road.
He drove towards a forest,
Though he stumbled out of it empty,
For it all lies beneath our art
as looking naked plays only until
two can love each other.

Were none welcome except us?
So as they went off to sleep,
hearts beating thrice to the beat,
jumping to the new rhythm unseated by the synergy
created in this magical space,
While I may question who you are,
We suffer from searching,
each more affected than the other
by the wandering.

Why do people readily believe
When you tell them:
There are 7 billion stars
but check when the paint is wet?

Fall and I'll catch you,
No need to look back
over your shoulder,
I'll be there,
I promise.

I used to be indecisive,
but now I'm not sure,
I do know however
My intentions are pure.

How come sand is yellow,
Why is it that when you draw a tree
it always looks like broccoli?
Why is it that when I eat broccoli
I always imagine it to be
a tiny tree?

I munch delicately
on this green leafy
thought nugget,
tasting each sprouty morsel,
savoring its saged wisdom.

Sing me a berceuse,
Sweet melody abound,
In your astral glow of your effusive vignette,
Play with your celesta sweet
beguiling with evocative speak

Turn with your astral glow
abound with pungent, redolent snow
and gaze at the symphony
before you

Sing in sweet felicity
Joy you bring,
Serendipity,
Asylum you bring,
None shall come,
but the brave warriors who
knock and question.

Draining,
Draining,
into a pool of oil.

Slipping down the slippery ***** of solemn awareness
of the fact that I am slipping down a slippery *****.

Oil slicked, no friction, no grip.
Get up. That is an order.

I can't.

Why?

Because every time I move,
every move I make
puts me right back here into
this pit of slick, messy, dark stain
that cannot be washed away,
That's why.

Get up.

I told you I cannot.
I have no means,
The oil is heavy and thick,
like molasses,
it's thick and slick, and slimy.
Help me if you want me up.

No.

You have always thought
since you were a little girl
That all you had to do
was do a pretty twirl,
and the world would fall
into your pretty lap
with your fancy silk cravat,
and your simpering sighs.

You. Make. Me. Sick.

Twirl little girl,
If you may,
To twirl and twirl another day
in your fancy house with your sparkling jewels,
they're what you call 'bargaining tools'.

Of pearl or diamond
they're not made
lasting not in the rain,
Melting sugar, simpering dew,
puddle at my feet,
adieu, adieu.

Why is it
that every time
I believe in love
it spits in my face

How is it
that I trust
and I give
and I understand
and get no respect?

"I understand,
It's okay,
It's alright,
Just don't do it next time,
uh huh,
I believe you,
this time".

And then I made a conscious
Decision
to eat my pain to fill the void
Friends don't matter
Expression devoid
of the emotion
that I thought I had
an invitation?
None to be had

Not for me
and it always
Has to be
Me. to initiate
a line of invitation
to communicate
or else I don't go
I don't get to see

the real colors of
the friends that I thought
I had next to me
I see that time is of the essence
essentially,
I am the only one left

I can hang out with my guy
and the shadows that haunt
me at night when I sleep

My guy's amazing,
but other than he
Who do I have?
Nothing but a ridiculous
Boundary
that I cannot seem to cross
They've drawn the line
and laugh at the loss

Friends, ones that I thought I had
I'm screaming,
they whisper that it's all in my head

I need smoke to clear my head,
to fog the brain that needs unclogged,
a draino of the mind,
snaking its way into my conscious
imagination

Past the gates of the unconcerned,
entering the territory of the learned
and scholarly,
stepping onto the path of resurrection,
reliving the life that was meant to pay

Sipping the juice of incarnation,
revitalizing the soul,
drawing a blank is not an option
as the red hot coal burns
through my ill-intentions

Wish that you could be here,
I'm having a bad day
the walls are closing in on me
it seems that they will

Stay

In bed, no sleep at all,
The things at night
that crawl and crawl

GO AWAY

you crazy ****,
I'm stressed
and I can't deal with it

Why won't this darkness leave me be...
It has to, right? Eventually?

Darkness, Darkness, go away,
come again...
wait, no, please don't come back.

This ache it has no reason,
no rhythm to the beat
it keeps winding me in circles
and I'm losing all my

Heat

up a bowl of that spaghetti,
left over from last night,
sit and cry away your fears
away from their sight.

Why? I feel like I'm on
a sick merry-go-round,
'Please sir, I want off now,
I can't see the ground'

'Spinning is all that I am good for,
if you want off dear,
well, I must implore...'

'Implore me to what?'
so scared and alone,
suddenly I hear a telephone

'Pick it up' says the man who's a blur,
'It could only be good news it could only be...'
'Sir? Sir?!?'

The ride is going faster,
I cannot go on,
I think I may be fainting,
'It's not that easy, hon'

'What? Hello!! Please help and stop
this crazy ride before I hurl'

The man laughs cruelly
as I twirl, and twirl and twirl

My tears slapping at my face
ricocheted off my cheeks
the horses are all staring
my knees are getting weak.

Holding to the pole,
I fall down on my knees,
Why do I have to do this,
I just want one last meal

Please make me better,
I hate this right now
Please make me
me again

'That I cannot allow,
See what I'm here for
is to keep you stuck,
rolling around
in the dirt and the muck.
To keep you off-balance,
it is my sworn duty,
it is my regret
for you are a beauty.

'You might have been nice
to marry, but my advice
is that you just sit tight
while the merry-go
Runs,
and maybe your sentence
will be expunged'.

I can't stay here
I really can't,
so I jump

And when you go into your room
at night
and no one is left for fear of a fight

And no one speaks and no one comes
to call on you when all is done

No one sees and no one cares
when you break down
They all swear
that it was all your fault,
They shouldn't need
to feel concern
while they watch you bleed

They simply pass you by
another day with another blue sky

They don't feel the pain inside
Oh woe is me, friend that won't confide
Silly, my fault for not speaking,
Who wants to speak when hostility rings?

I won't confide because you don't care
Seldom do you even dare
to pick up your head in an honest hello
or even pick your head up from the pillow

Of the couch,
Obnoxious and blue,
I sit too far away from you

To engage,
to be willing to sit
to tolerate your insipid
complaints, you ***...

I can't help that
we don't get along.
I won't be here for much too long.

That is the only comfort I have to offer,
the only penance for your coffer,
the only tidbit of advice,
I'll be gone before you know it
So deal with the dice.

Dear Diary,

Why does life seem to wrap you up in a cup of madness
then tip you out and watch you spill
the contents of yourself
onto a cold and muted tile floor?

Why, dear Diary,
does everyone expect you
to react perfectly in every situation
and robotically fix and tweak and mutate?

Diary,
I am not a machine.
I can't bend this way and that
at the same time
without breaking.

I can't smile a smile
that I don't believe.

I can't,
and I won't.

Diary,
You have so forlornly sit in the back of my mind
gathering dust and termites and grime
I can hardly speak to you at all
for my problems you cannot solve.

Just a lended ear do you offer
A lonely penance for my coffer
To spare a word a thought, some grace
to be able to pick up my forlorn face.

I look into the ***** night
so hateful and full of spite
Reprehensible rejection cease
as it knocks me to my knees.

Dear Diary,
I do plead,
Save my soul
or else I'll bleed.

I lean back
against your chest
warmth spreading through me
as I feel your arms pull me
closer to you

I feel myself melting into you
Folding into the crevices
until we become
One being
One soul
One love

Look up to the sky:
It's still the same,
On the surface at least...

Look closer and you'll see:
the billions of planets moving round
Celestial heavens to which we are bound
Moving in an elliptical sea
Wrapped up in universal intimacy.

Blanket of stars:
Tuck me in,
Wrap me in your woven dreams,
Spill me into a cup of steam.
Crossbeams of light gleaming through
that dark blanket of deep blue stew.

Soup:
Carrots, peas,
celery, meat,
potatoes, beans,
simmering heat.

The heat from which this poem flows
through my mouth and out the window
into the ears of the passerby
fluttering into houses nearby.

Houses:
connected by a single thread,
we are all here together
until we all are dead.

Living:
Vivaciously
until that day I will greet the
blue, rolling sea.

This seed
this tiny little acorn
of a dream
sits in my pocket
as we wind ourselves
down this winding path
of intimate dreams

Your fingers laced in mine,
and I take a side glance at your confident stride
your face glowing with that smile that lights
the darkest of nights
and you look at me with those eyes,
those eyes that climb into my soul and hug me
from the inside out
and you tell me that you love me

Your lips are firm
yet supple to the touch,
the electricity that pulses
it just feels like so much

So much feeling in a single touch
and I sigh and clutch
my racing heart
as it beats and beats
and beats apart
from the rhythm of life,
as my soul imparts

The wisdom to me
that I already had
I wrote it down
on my little scratch pad:

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn
is just to love and be loved in return"

My heart soars
Through open doors
As it climbs
into yours

My soul glowing
radiantly
the brightness showing
and I see

I relish it in it
and it makes me whole.

How is it
that whenever I'm sure that you're the one
that you run in the opposite direction

How is it
that you always seem apologetic,
and I believe you,
but the actions never support the claim

How is it
that when I call on you to talk to me
for five minutes
you can't find the time

And yet you say you love me.

How is it
that I pour my heart and soul out
for you, and you understand me
but you break me afterwards

How is it
that I am so happy
when I am with you
and never want to leave
but the moment I go
reality comes crashing in
How is it
that every time I try to trust you
my face is the one
that ends up stained with tears

And yet I still love you.

How is it
that we keep coming 'round
to this same ****** circle
and don't get anywhere faster

How is it
that my heart beats only for you
and yet I feel
like I have been thrown
naked onto the street

And yet you say you love me

How is it
I can feel it in my very core
that what you say is true
and yet your actions
make it not so

How is it
that I progress and mature
and you have done nothing
but back peddle
in my absence

How is it
that I can take this
and still love you
more than my heart can bear

How is it
that I dote so heavily on you
and would end my life
to save yours
and still feel
the cold burn of inconsistency

I just want to hold your hand
and walk among the tall grasses and weeds
to that place that you took me before
while the wind blows up against our bodies
and we breathe and step forward in unison

The tall grasses swishing, brushing against our legs
activity of those around us humming in the background
children laughing in the pool,
birds calling to each other in the air,
the sloshing of the water against the embankment

And I look to you and all I see are those sea green eyes
Crystal blue on some days, mossy green the next
And I lose myself,
melting in those dazzling pearls of intimacy
When you look at me with them,
it feels like you see into my soul
knowing every part of me all at once

Then I look away, blushing
because your gaze is so penetrating
that I have no way to respond
without seeming foolish
because you have struck me speechless

All my feelings for you reflected
in the red glow of my cheeks,
I cannot hide from your gaze.
No. Not from you.

As you pull me on, hand in tow,
I feel like I could float like this forever
suspended in time and space,
the world outside melting away
as we dance without music

Your smile embedding itself onto my face
cozying up for a long stay,
my face starts to ache from the muscles of my mouth
not being able to relax,
but I cannot stop smiling

As you clear the ground
I watch you carefully brush away
possible bumps and uncomfortable seats
and motion for me to sit next to you
on the spot of ground you have cleared for me

I plop myself down serenely
My body folding into yours,
your arm wrapped around my shoulder
My head resting on your chest

Peaceful dreams come over me
and as we harmonize
the water becomes a bay
and the spot we have taken up becomes the dock
and as we sit upon the dock of the bay,
we watch the small ripples,
assuming they have a tide,
roll away into one another.

We sit on the dock of the bay
and waste time

The drawn anticipation
tip-toeing on the tip of my tongue
I can taste scintillating titillation
of action
of resolve

Slipping slowly into this
vastly unorganized state
of solace and  servitude

Bound by the beautifully ironic
Brush of fate that has brought me
to you

The luscious laments you utter
so lovingly
lap at my conscience
like a lap dog in the life of luxury
oblivious to anyone else's needs
but its own
as I languish the morsels lain on the
cold, wet floor

Freezing as my heart flutters
feverishly to fight the frivolous
attempts to win back the love
that frightens me now

Never doubting,
Nor noticing the imperfections
that nag at the niceties performed
eloquently in your presence

Putting my progress
on hold, while I become
less and less patient
still trying to understand
why you're still with her...

and I'm still here.
Loving you.

I've long since forgotten
the way you held me
The way you touched me

Spellbound by your caresses
My breath suspended
when you look at me
with those mossy green eyes,
that smile that melts any sadness,
any care or worry,
your soft hands,
the calluses on the tips of your fingers,
the way you smell like puppies
is even the most endearing thing about you.

The way your voice reaches my ears
and my body forgets
that there is a world outside us
The sound of your guitar
as you pick and strum away
and I refrain
from placing my quivering lips
onto yours
because I know it would be
the end of a friendship.

My feelings behind an arcane barrier

I am dearly afraid to trust you
and more so afraid
that you will abandon me
at the first sight of intimacy

I grow wary of your questions
guarding my answers,
and you catch it.
You of all people
can see past my wall.

That is really the most frustrating
thing about you:
is that you see.
You see my vulnerability,
the moment I am upset,
you ask what the matter is.

You can see it plainer on my face
than I can perceive it in my heart,
and you understand me  so well,
too well to keep this charade afloat.

So, at some point,
I assume I will have to address it,
my love for you that has no end.

Until that day though,
I will remain quiet,
cherishing the growing friendship
we have achieved once more.

This thought that refuses to leave
an unwanted raging lunatic
tearing at my soul

You are a bug
eating at my flesh
and you refuse to die
I squash you
I burn you
I spray you
and yet
I cannot sleep

Because  I know somehow
somewhere,
you will find your way back to me
and ruin my life all over again.

It used to be that when you were gone

I felt the pain
the tug of your presence missed
through the tips of my fingers

to my eyes
to my heart
to my toes
to my bones that ached
like the dull ache of a healing
broken piece of your body

My whole self
was thrown into this
wild abandon
A flurry of disjointed
waves of emotion
that never ceased
to sting and ****

Into the cold
without a coat
my feet bare
on the wet,
freezing ground

As I hug myself
there is no one around
to see, to feel,
people are present
but no one is there

They walk by with
selective sight
tunnel vision focusing
on what they must
not see,

Anything
to avert eye contact
with the freak
whose feelings
are difficult to comprehend.

I feel lost without you
sometimes.
At others I feel liberated.
Those are the times
that I do things
that I should regret,
but don't.

I refuse to regret anything
that makes me who I am
at this moment.

However,
Sometimes,
I wish I would learn
from my own messy mistakes.

Falling
for the wrong guy
is kind of my specialty.

If you would like advice
on the subject,
I'll be writing a book.

No, I won't.
Books take too long,
That's why I resort
to verse

That boy,
that man rather
I like him.
It is that plain to me.
To him, I'm not so certain.

But this turmoil in me
from you
causes me to pause.

and think.

Reaching
for the words to say
pulling them from
this black hole
of tempted misery

Tempted to call
hesitant to dial
closing the phone
in desperation

Writhing and twisting
with aches that persist
and **** with delicate intent

keys pressed to my fingers
my words flow out of me
into this medium of
electronic space

Not from my hand
do my words come from
but my mind, my pen
a useless old friend that
is neglected beside me

An overwhelming wave
of ocean sweeps over me
crashing in on my thoughts

On the cusp of a revelation!
the wave pulls back out to sea
lost in the translation of the water
mixing spitefully to muddle my
epiphany, my fleeting thought
lost in an ocean of feeling

One hand grasping onto the shore
gripping at the sandy surface
with nothing concrete to hold on to
Thrashing away while I dig myself
a hole in the sand that deepens
by the second

Digging my grave I weep,
the sand mixing with my hot tears
as they stream freely down my face
making mud

A muddy grave I am doomed
to lie in,
to be reduced to a pile of nothing
that gets washed away,
swept up in the
ocean of emotions

The only time
you take to say
I love you
is at the end of the day

Only when all else
is done
do you think to
pick up the phone
to say

"How was your day?"

Five minutes
here or there
then I'm out
to

Bear:

these wounds
that you have left behind
forgiveness I have tried to find
in my heart I cannot see
what this possibly means to me

Cold as frost
on this glass of tea
ice cubes clanking
as my eagerness
ceases

To Be:

capable of believing
your stories
they just end up
to be
tentative sorry's

What am I to do with you
in the balance
hangs a shoe

a shoe that should fit
me and you
one all-inclusive
cinderella duo

Glass slippers
and tux shoes to match
no more for the while

To Catch:

the sinister glance
of a passerby that
gets the chance

To See:

That my pain is real
that this ongoing feeling
is starting

To peel:

back these layers of true love
what lies beneath
is something gloved
with black and coarse
material, it sickens me
sometimes,
to see,
this connection so wearable

Wearing thinner and thinner
to see right through the center...
from you to me

I hope with all hope's hope
that this love will love and last
and be amazing love,
the kind that lasts forever.

But:
if the chill
refuses to leave,
then I'll have to grab my jacket
and leave,
and check out of your hotel

I've made my decision
now let's play roulette
I'll take the black
If you take the red

Watch the ball spin
past colours that blur
My eyes follow
while my vision obscures

Thoughts whir
as the dial stops
dancing with death
as I hear the gun pop

I close my eyes
waiting to die
not this time
though my end
feels nigh

The barrel makes
a menacing sound
as it goes around
and around and around
and around

Where it stops nobody knows
In its chambers
my heart echos

It aches
it pumps with ferocity
with vitality and fervor
Counting down the seconds
'til it utters its last quiver

Standing boldly
laying down
crunched up in
womb's position

This is where I started,
and So shall I end here.

Tick. Tick. Boom.

Trying to find the words
that will mend the hurt
To smooth the pain
to render wisdom
and understanding
into a soft salve
to rub onto
the open wound

Wincing
as you turn away
reaching out for you
but recieving
a single,
over the shoulder
glance
and a slight wave

as my stomach
tightens into knots,
several bound together,
squeezing the life out of me
the vivacious thing that once
made me as colorful as an
Andy Warhol print

Smiling with joy
twisting with sadness
oh what a tangled
Massive
web we weave

Dear Love,
Even though you
are not here next to me
your presence lingers
I feel you when I go to sleep

Your scent lingers
when I move the blanket
or roll over on the sheets
I miss your warmth
as I curl up into a ball

Anticipating
your soft embrace
pulling me into your chest
My face snuggled
comfortably at your collar

I drift peacefully off to sleep
knowing that you're holding me
that I am safe

I miss the way you look at me
when you tell me
how much I mean to you

I miss the way you laugh,
the way you kiss,
the way you breathe

I miss your vitality for life
your spontaneity
The way you love me

I miss your face,
your hair,
your body,
your hands,
everything.

I won't be able
to go to sleep
until I hear your voice again
and I will wait impatiently
for the day I'll see
your car in my parking lot
to come to visit

I miss you, Bear.
And I know you are as eagerly
awaiting seeing me as I am you,
and know that it is probably
a more intense nostalgia
for you,
you hopeless romantic,
but who am I, as the ***?
to call the kettle black?

I'm rambling as always.
Call me soon,
I love you
~Your Angel

I reach for my heart
and find that it's not there
there's a space where it used
to belong with a note
left in its spot

"I've run away from home
Please don't expect me back
any time soon. I do love you,
but I feel safer in the protection
of his arms"

As I set the note down
with a soft sadness
I hear
a knock
at my door
Snapping out of my anxious gloom,
Rushing to the door
expecting it to be my heart
returned to me

I open it...
but instead of my heart
I see his, his heart
reaching out its arms to me

I pick it up carefully,
cradling it in my arms
it seems to beam with
a warm happiness

It notices the hole
where my heart once was
It motions towards it
and I explain that my heart
had left me

His heart seemed to smile
and gently nestled itself
into the hole that
my own heart had left
completing my
circulatory system
pumping my blood
feeling my veins alive
with strong vitality

As I am a part of you,
You are a part of me

I feel like:
I'm yelling
at a brick wall
with my hand
over my mouth

As if I were
to remove my hand
that it would make a
difference

but it wouldn't

You still wouldn't hear.
You would continue to
talk AT me in that
condescending tone

arguing with you
is superfluous
you just think you're right
arguing logically
with an illogical person
is illogical

and when you are
backed into a corner
you yell
and then claim
to be hurt

in an effort to gain
an apology
UNWARANTED

You stomp your feet
and slam things down
on the counter
like a five year old child
and expect me
to take you seriously

And when you walk
into that door
and accuse me of
the stupidest things
then expect me not to
"get an attitude"
it ****** me off to no end

That's why I shut off,
Mother.
That's why I don't talk to you.
When I tell you to leave me alone
because

I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT

it means that I don't want to hurt you
by saying these things
and that I love you,
but I hate dealing with the way
you handle situations that you don't like.

It's not fair to the other person
because you
Barrel through their retaliations
with senseless *******
that only makes sense to you

and if no apology comes,
you obsess until you come up
with this ******* conclusion
that is over-thought
and entirely untrue

I'm not pregnant, you idiot.
And just because I don't want to talk to you
doesn't make whatever is wrong ABOUT you
and don't make it about you.
because you do. all the ******* time.

You still treat me like I'm ten years old
and you have this assured power over me
you want to take back the presents you bought me?
fine. do it. I'm not materialistic, so all it proves is your
pettiness.

I wish you could hear the malice dripping in your tone
aimed specifically just to hurt me
thanks, Mom.
I appreciate it on my BREAK.
But it's not a break with you
******* at me 24/7.

I can't wait to go back to school and
be stressed out there instead.
At least I don't have to worry about
hostility when I'm in my own room.

And by the way, learn how to knock.