Beautiful faces
in the most unexpected places
remind me that there's more to life
than this.

Each and every one,
a story all their own.
A lifetime of hurt,
of joy,
of perfect imperfection.

All at once
the crowd screams their pain:
   neglect
   abuse
   failure
   loss
   empty homes and
   shattered hopes,
they scream in utter silence.

You are not alone,
their faces whisper.
Their quiet reassurance more musical
than the song playing
in my ears.

Slowing to a stop
we each grab our bags,
exit without a word,
and scatter to follow each of our paths.

Unspoken therapy
at nine in the morning,
Forcing an interesting sense of gratitude
towards a broken down car
and a broken down spirit.

I dream of
Wrapping my arms around your neck,
Feeling your hands discovering my ribs,
   gripping my legs, and
   tracing my spine,

Switching from sitting near you
   to sleeping beside you,
Concealing our love under covers
   for hours.

I dream of
Dancing with you and your subtle sway,
Trying not to notice as the hours,
   and minutes,
   and seconds
pass too fast for us.

Trying to persuade time to take back
its hurried departure,
   so we can have a few moments,
   a few precious moments,
   longer.

I dream of
Brushing my cheek against yours
   and sighing in sync
   with overwhelming ecstasy.

Running my fingers through your hair,
   and softly sketching my love on your skin.

I dream of
     drowsy,
            clumsy,
     desperate
affections.

When I drift off to sleep,
     my dear,
it seems
I always dream
of
you.

I may be fragile,
but your forceful fists that
supposedly
promise my "protection"
are only bruising my
beaten,
battered
heart.
This cage you've constructed to
hold me home
is only making me
thirst for escape,
thirst for fingertips
   with different fingerprints,
and thirst for
a breath of different air.

I may be confused,
but your father-figure
illusions
and
delusions
only form frustration
and forsake the fire
we're trying to ignite.

I'm begging you,
release your grip,
if you want me to stay.
And if you don't,
prepare yourself
to watch from a distance,
as I run away.

How cruel is the thunder that woke me from my dreamless sleep.
I've longed for that luxury so many nights more.
I think we've finally arrived at fighting now,
A sort of anger we've not yet experienced before.

Stupid? Yes.
Stubborn? True.
You can fight me on it all night long, dear,
Because I love to fight the way we do.

i lifted my heavy body into the cold
when i heard you at the door

eyes red,
skin white.
you looked apologetic
and i, unforgiving

you stripped to the bone
to hold me close
and let my anger dissolve
one choked-out tear at a time

i yelled
and you listened
i finally
felt forgiven
and we drove away from the pain.

and when we stopped
you bought me a dreamcatcher.

but the irony i found is that,
my dear,
the only dream I'll ever have
is you.

With a gluttonous obesity that devours love,
spits up lust,
and snacks on a
high-carb
pre-cooked
combination of the two,

we're counting calories consumed
with a track record of lovers,
regurgitating with regret and
binging again anyway when hunger pains strike.

Eventually we'll all suffocate
under the weight of the world.

We go through the cycle,
exhausting ourselves with apologies over
feelings we're not supposed to have.

We numbly pick up the sharp, jagged
pieces of our broken hearts
and mindlessly wipe up the blood.

We inhale and take in the aroma
of one another, a haunting scent
reminding us how to feel.

And we share all the torn, tattered pieces
of our disasterous days, because facing
them together reminds us it's real.

We push the boundary,
we cross the line.
We take a punch to the gut and a stab to the heart
one more time.

This masochistic charade,
a constant temptation
to get high on sensation,
forever plaguing our fragile hearts and feeble minds.

I rock to sleep a brown-eyed beauty
and hum a tune you once played for me.
A haunting melody,
intended for harmony,
quiets her tears but unleashes mine.

She may never know the way
a lullaby sounds
as it leaves your lips.

Come home soon.

I lost a part of me
on the night that you let me
stare deep into your eyes,

This semblance of control that
I'll lose time and again
with your every whisper and sigh.

And no matter the distance
and no matter the time,
my thoughts are incessantly encompassed in you.

And I can't help but wonder
if as you're pulling me under,
it's precisely what I need you to do.

But the fear of the fall,
despite the beauty of it all,
reminds me of the possible pain.

So you'll have to chip away at my resolve
and gently pull down my shield,
embracing imperfections that remain.

Because in your absence, I've found that I'm absent
of every emotion
indicating that I'm still alive.

And I think I may need you
to revive my whole being,
I may need you just to survive.

How can you defend the meager walls you've built,
when you're cornered
and working with fragile hands,
to protect a fragile heart,

when the pursuit of you has become too much to fight;
when you've run as long,
and as hard
as your quick, short breaths can take you?

You can't.

Your only option is to fall on your knees,
roll with the punches,
take the pain,
and beg for mercy when all's said and done,

And though there's a certain peace in
finally admitting defeat,

The scars will emerge, reminding you of your lapse in strength,
your pursuer's victory,
and the battle that will have forever left your fragile fortress
in utter ruins.

Right about now,
The thought of you makes me tremble,
I crave the melody strung in your voice.
My focus is extinct,
Memories flash at frustrating intervals,
and all I want is what
I can't have.

Won't you come pick me up?
We'll drive through the night,
listening to any number of mix tapes
with reoccurring themes,
effortlessly talking about our lives
and the addictions we share.

Won't you come pick me up?
We can promise ourselves
mercy in the morning,
and I know one of us will reassure that
we've somehow progressed.

Won't you come pick me up?
I long for the intoxication you bring,
the liberation from trying so hard
to forget what has happened,
the adventure and thrill
we create.

Won't you come pick me up?

I want to slice through
   the voices
      haunting my head
and suffocate
   the aches
      taunting my heart.

I want to scrape away
   the memories
      burning a hole in my mind
and carve out
   the curiosity
       tormenting my soul.

anger
resonating
through me,
never
sufficiently
released
by any words
that I write.

determination
now rising
through me,
so I'm
strengthening
my resolve
and starting
tonight.

I can't get high
when you're stuck on the ground,
I can't sing a note
when you don't make a sound.

I can't let out a laugh
when I don't see you smile,
I can't move an inch
when you're counting the miles.

I can't play our game
when you're lost in your head,
I can't stay awake
when you're ready for bed.

I can't inhale the air
when you breathe in my ear,
I can't exhale in rhythm
when your body is near.

I can't let you go
when I wish that I could,
I can't say goodnight
when I know that I should.

I can't erase memories
when you're burned in my mind,
I can't sleep tonight
when there's no rest to find.

I love you, I miss you, I want you, I need you.
But the problem is,
*I can't.

His words chip away at my sleep-deprived brain,
and the color of his eyes feels too deeply ingrained.
I'm a restless wreck with chains wrapped round my hands,
as I steam towards destruction without much of a plan.
You vulnerable heart, you've failed me once more.
I need you back where you were, behind sturdy, closed doors.
Stop your incessant playing of these painful games,
because you know in the end, they all turn out the same.

small talk and voices abound as
swarms of somebodies walk past.
i tune them out,
allow the words to dissolve to nothing but murmurs.
time passes slowly
sitting in a cold, hard chair,
tapping my toes and sketching stars,
writing and rewriting
the grace that I need
and stenciling it on my skin.
time passes slowly
sorting through files and answering calls and
smiling at strangers with obvious intentions,
but their surface-level adoration
only makes me laugh.
because you love what matters.
time passes slowly
my feet hit the pavement
in steady rhythm,
drops fall down my neck,
and the effort required only strains my muscles,
my mind left free to roam.
time passes slowly

and then,

i see your face,
   hear you laugh,
      touch your skin,
          breathe you in,
              curse the time,

and all too suddenly, say goodnight.

and as i walk away,
again,
*time passes slowly.

the hum of the fan, one that refuses to cool any part of the stifling room, is the only sound,
with the constant turn of the blades bearing a likeness to the steady rotation of
words and
sentences and
incomplete thoughts
thrashing about in my skull.

tossing and
turning and
back again.

lying sleepless and increasingly frustrated at the impossibilities I've constructed for myself,
in a fortress,
if you will,
of determined failure.

i've become distracted with false fantasies of adequate replacements.
i've reached for hands to hold to keep mine from interlacing alone.
i've cried out to the walls, to the ceiling, to the emptiness,
but i want to come home.

i miss Your merciful assurance lulling me to sleep.
but i've forgotten the way to You, and i'm terribly lost.

i am
selfish, ungrateful,
and altogether useless,
but i promise to try
if You'll guide me back in.


please.


tossing and
turning and
back again.

The sunlight filters through the blinds,
arms stretch out and then retreat.
Pull the covers back overhead
and bury myself beneath.

Slam the alarm down one more time,
rub my eyes, then curl my toes.
Pull my pillow closer now,
nowhere motivating enough to go.

Stare at the wall and its boring, beige face;
Getting up would be better than this.
Fumble my way down the hall to the shower,
hot water pours out with a hiss.

Get dressed for the day with a frown on my face,
staring longingly at my bed.
About fifteen hours of day to endure,
until right back here, I'll head.

every night I go to sleep with you.

you wrap your arms around me,
you pull me closer to your smile,
your eyes await until mine concede, and
you kiss away my uncertainty, inch by inch by inch.
and when my mind collapses from the beautiful exhaustion your simple presence has put me through,
you're there to guide me through my dreams,
and you lay patiently awaiting as I wake.

you're a constant presence.
 where I go, 
you'll be.
No matter the miles,
 you're always 
with me.

I feel how you feel.
Your hatred,
your sorrow,
Your love,
your fear,
Your doubt,
your confusion,

Your desperation
beyond reparation,
I feel how you feel.

Your every emotion
threatening to choke out
the life of me.
Empathy, I'm told,
is a marvelous gift.

Unable to please myself, though,
because your happiness is on the line,
and I'll just keep on telling myself
that I'm fine.

But wedding bells are beginning
to sound like hell,
and I think
there might be something wrong here.

Soft kiss,
smile,
touch,
repeat.

Soft kiss,
smile,
touch,
repeat.

And all at once, all hopes of control were lost
in the fire of their eyes.
So with a lick of the lips and
hands gripped onto hips,
they held on to love for dear life.

But there's no place for passion
in a world such as this,
she cries,
wipes her eyes,
and admits defeat
again.

Monotony is what we strive to maintain.
Passion is something you learn to restrain.
Rules are the promise of bringing you gain.
All these words - ingrained, ingrained.

Lather,
rinse,
repeat.

Lather,
rinse,
repeat.

Trapped in rooms with bland, white walls
absently overhearing lessons
supposedly pertinent to life
     “the experience of being torn between two incompatible alternatives”
Sigh of irony.
     “Symptoms of conflict:
     inability to make decisions
     general moral deterioration
     avoidance of responsibility
     taking the path of least resistance”

***** this class.

     I need a change of season,
     a scorching sun,
     a summer rain,
     and roads that stretch for miles.
     I need an escape
     that doesn’t end so soon,

But hours later, I’m stuck in a cold office,
and both you and I know that
data entry and phone calls
will never distract our minds from pain.
And our
cold,
distant
communication,
     if you could even call it that,
brings a violent ache
that floods my entire being.

But I can’t fight
anymore,
so I have to sit back
and wait.
wait.
wait.

when your knees fit into their puzzle piece places,
tucked away
into the bends of my legs,

and your fingers rake across the rows of my ribcage,
suddenly stopping
the heart beating beneath,

when your fruit flavored breath,
mixed with faint cigarette,
hovers delicately
between our lips,

and your voice
and your sigh
and your hips
and your eyes
dance circles in my sleep-deprived mind,

I become the witness
to the marks of perfection
being etched throughout the night.

and in our tossing
and turning
and fervent destroying
of any torturous distance
we find,
our souls are colliding,
our hearts intertwining,

and I'm cursing the time
that forces goodbye.

Can you question the hand you're given
and try to comprehend the plans of Fate?
Is it possible the timing could be off,
that this time what Should have been was running late?

As the two paths cross and collide,
we find our hearts hanging on by a thread.
We evaluate every moment, every touch, every breath,
all the words spoken and those left unsaid.

This happenstance discovery of perfection
leaving one too many gaping holes;
a somber solitude must now occupy the night,
as the necessary healing sets in the depths of our souls.

Your fingers felt their way through my belt loops
And your palms paced slowly on my hips
The warmth of your breath heated my neck
And your lips lingered, in search of a place to rest.
As our legs
and hands
and hearts
intertwined
Sleep took you captive for the night
and I slipped away to settle into the dreams
That never felt quite as real,
and consequently,
not as sweet as you wished me,
so it seems.

The noise is suffocating.
I can barely breathe.
My world's started crashing,
and I'm crumbling beneath.

I don't want to care
about the feelings I've hurt.
Don't want to mind
that I belong in the dirt.

Just want to hide from the world
the wreck I've become.
To stop swinging my daggers
and make everyone numb.

Disaster, there's a victory
I can always secure.
Broken heart, I can give you one,
of that I am sure.

Compromise,
apologize,
empathize
all part of the game.
Disappointment's moniker?
One hint: It's my name.

He guards the door and lays by my feet
and tries to keep me warm.
He watches our one-year-old play in the yard
and doesn't bark unless he means to warn.

And he brought tears to my eyes when you picked him
last Christmas from the pound five blocks away.
But he still looks for your truck and searches for your smell
and wishes you would have stayed.

Come home soon.

as i lay me down to sin,
   i pray, dear Lord, forgive me when
all the guilt starts pushing through, and
   i finally stop forsaking You.
and if i die before i rise,
   i pray, oh Lord, You'll wipe my eyes
and guide me home through heaven's door,
   and keep me there forever more.

The fields of wheat sway to the melody of the wind,
surrounding us in a torrent of ecstasy
as we lie draped in the fallen leaves.
You design a daydream for us to share
and whisper it in my ear,
the thrill of possibility lacing your every word.
As conversations of distant hopes fade to impatient sighs,
Silence falls and begs us to hear
the deep breaths we take in turn.
An enchanting lullaby and a reassurance,
reminding us we'll have the time.
So we'll postpone our longing
until the arriving morning,
once again.

I love waiting with you, my dear.

Tracing mindlessly along the lines of my hand,
     My pulse races at the electricity of his touch.
Pulling me closer to lock his eyes into mine,
     It must be a sin to let my heart feel this much.
Laughing softly at our misguided, late-night words
     with no plans of waking up until noon.
Ending abruptly, at one long, warm embrace,
     **** my alarm for going off a moment too soon.

As she sits on the busy street corner
she feels the emptiness of her happy home.
She watches and waits and she wonders
how a so-called love could make her feel so alone.
She bites her nails and taps her toes
and asks herself, after love grows where it goes.
So she flees and flies miles from her vacant heart
in a hope of finding something to catch fire, a new start.

But as she flies she feels the pain of those with
disapproving glares,
and she stares
out the window, but can't see past the facade that she'll
once again wear.

With no luck, she returns to her shattered dreams.
her heart continues to rip at the seams.
A happy home, they call it.
A hell hole, to be correct.
Not once does he swoop down to kiss her neck.

The loneliness rising,
the free air calls her name.
Unable to look past her peers and her fears,
she has only herself to blame.

So she sits alone in her happy home
Alone, alone again.

The world is spinning faster now,
I'm starting to lose my grip.
I clench my fingers tighter now,
before I start to slip.

I'm watching words and halting thoughts,
trying to keep it all in line.
Answering all his inquiries
with yes, of course I'm fine.

Forcing smiles and bits of laughter
knowing not to ruin what I've got.
But I can't take the pain again,
and I'm down to my last shot.

Now haunting dreams and taking captive
all the empty spaces in my mind,
indecision takes its toll on me and
refuses to leave a peace for me to find.

So I sit in this state of uncertainty
until I'm released and free.
But my captor only laughs his vicious laugh
and strengthens his hold on me.

With a shining smile
and erupting laughter,
the crowd's engulfed
in my one-liners and easy joy.
We're singing
and swaying,
and I'm participating.

I play along throughout the day.

My award-winning role,
I am
the actress.

So take a seat in front of my stage,
and prepare your hands for a burst of applause

as I fall into fiction.

I will memorize these lines,
I will become my character,
I will forget the reality of
happily never after.

The end.

Worship inscribed on the soft of my wrist,
yet my heart feels pulled to the dismal abyss.
A faith, to be sure, and for love, I have tried.
But to Him I have sinned, and to Him, I've yet died.
I hold on to my longings, belongings, and nothing at all.
And further away, it seems that I fall.

Don't you see?

I want what you want, and possibly more.
All I want is that cluttered apartment floor,
where music is played that I've never heard,
and I relish in your every whispered word.
This has gotten a bit out of hand, has it not?
You've tangled up my heart, and now I am caught.
This will have to rest, we've had more than enough.
Besides, I've no more poetic words for you, love.
I'll resort to perpetual, compromising dreams of us
A subconscious addiction, from dawn until dusk.

The affectionate embraces,
    the smiles,
    the laughs
marked near perfection in the night,
until guilt and all the external weight set in.
Then I felt like a *****, a shameless *****
wanting to be pure again.

So I begged him to look into my eyes.
    Tell me the color,
    Tell me they matter.
I ache for that same easy feeling just ten hours earlier,
    the immediate rush,
    the desperate longing.
******, I just want it to feel right.
At least for tonight.

With the absent adrenaline, I lay my head down,
close my eyes,
and let one drop fall.
I let him catch it with his fingertip.
I let him ask and feel concerned.
I let him believe my half-true answer.

For the sake of everything good in the world,
I just want to sleep a dreamless sleep and
wake up to thoughts of nothing.

Just breathe.
In and out.

Simple breaths.
Try not to shout.

Cry your tears,
release the pain.

Learn from this,
you've much to gain.

You've hit rock bottom
Now go only up.

Let His Love heal you
and fill your cup.

Trust, fall deep,
feel His embrace.

The old side of you,
there won't be a trace.

Breathe. Sleep soundly.
This night's come to a close.

You're His beloved and He'll guide you
in the way only He knows.

To be
the lines and rhymes of your poetry,
the lyrics and melodies of your songs,
the thoughts that keep you up at night,
the one by you at dawn,
the head on your shoulder,
the hand in your hand,
the face in your picture,
the one you can't stand
   to be without
is all too much to be.

Save
your words for a literary mind,
your songs for ready ears,
your hopes and dreams for the one to share
   them with you through the years,
your body for her,
your heart for her,
your mind for her,
your all for her.

Save them for your future to-be.
*Don't waste them all on me.

I wish that having a terrible day,
a terrible night,
crying twice,
and missing you
would qualify as need enough
to break the silence,
halt the process,
and disobey our laws.

I wish that I didn't conform,
that I was brave,
and that I did what I want.

But the sanity I cling to
is that you would be the same.
Patterns repeat.
I've witnessed my share,
and though your words break me,
They are only words.

My eyes don't haunt forever.
Repetition takes the victory.
Happily ever after is only for the movies
we held each other through.

Just a few steps down the hall,
I hear you whisper through the wall.
You left my side to get a drink
From the sudden cold, a blush of pink.

I feel a shiver on my skin
as you steal the warmth within.
Visible breath through frigid air,
The absence of you leaves me bare.

*Oh, wintertime.

knees bruised from kneeling
on the cold shower floor

you're out getting high,
and i'm pushing a prayer

eyes torn at the edges and
wet from salvation

i'm lost in translation
i am left bare

you are an artist
let my back be your canvas
paint me through the night.