If I lose my mind
For like, right now
Will I not like
The tale I got told
Yesterday and before
If it's been told one more time?

Or will I unchoose
The ink color I will use
For the letter I'm going to send
Tomorrow and after
If I was taken to the store again?

I don't think so

Cause will the bird forget how
To sing a good morning
To the sun and dew
If she lose her minds too?

I don't think so

"Forgive me for
having tried to restore
your breath,
but it's all I could do
when you traded
love for death."

I’m drenched
in the flood
which has yet to come

I’m *******
in the prison
which has yet to exist



Not having played
the game of chess
I’m already the checkmate



Not having tasted
a single cup of your wine
I’m already drunk



Not having entered
the battlefield

I’m already wounded and slain



I no longer
know the difference
between image and reality



Like the shadow
I am

And

I am not

I once was told by a friend
That when I cry the angels take my tears
And place them in a lake in heaven
Is that the Crystal Lake so Sparkling and pure
Perfect year after year
With as many tears as I've cried over the years
I wonder if it's now a river
or is it a magnificent waterfall beyond compare
Cascading down a mountain
Does it nourish the animals or make plants flourish
Make flowers grow
I guess I just won't know tell I get there
My friends next time you cry they just might be Angel tears.

I am not a writer.
I am not good with words,
I cannot speak up for myself,
It is my pen that bleed words.
No amount of convincing can give me conviction.
No amount of clarification can make that distinction.
Please refrain from using titles.

I am not a writer.
I am just a dreamer,
Dreaming dreams of inverted galaxies
Where complexities are reduced to simplicity,
And maybe love wouldn't be so complicated.
I dream of a world where I'll be unchained and liberated,
Because currently freedom is hard to go by.

I am not a writer.
I am just another over thinker,
I stay up all night disassembling the world,
So I can put it back together.
Adding new features that I think will make it better
I get lost in thoughts, and day-mares, fantasies and others,
I obsess and I always suffer.

I am not a writer.
Though sometimes I am photographer,
Snapping,
Close ups and selfies of my terrible mind.
Giving glints of places you won't usually find,
All because I write sometimes.

i bet even after all this time
that if my chest were to
ache with emptiness enough
like it used to i could go to your house
and find the outline of our bodies
on your dark blue bed sheets
i have spent the last year
both trying to run from you
and find you at the same time
but i left everything i knew
about falling in love
on that mattress and
it's still settling there
like dust and
all i can do is write about you
until it comes back to me,
or by some kind of miracle,
you decide to.

I could kiss you and like it

          Pressing slowly

Thrilled

     by the softness
               of your flesh

Compelled

     To ****
          Upon your upper lip

     And bite
         Gently upon the lower

Surfing the tidal waves
          of your tongue

                    Synchronizing auras

I'd breathe you in

       Absorb your energy

And exhale life

I could kiss you
                  And like it

Indeed Love it
                  And make you Mine.*


©Tina Thompson
01-18-14