Do you believe in the lyrics you listen to?
Does the melody speak your language?
You're a good girl making bad choices
And don't know who to fall in love with
So why fall in love with anyone?
He's a better boy
Falling for the sweetest girls like you
And he tries so hard to impress
But he was never enough for you
Does the rhythm match your heartbeat?
Do the voices stroke your soul?
It's impossible for you to find love
If you're only looking for a moment
That takes away your breath
He finds it difficult to trust them now
It's all because of you
He questions motives and their smiles
He reasons their happiness can't be because of him

Take these hands and mold them like clay
Make them operate under your will
Sow these fingers together like lace
Because that's how fragile my actions are
Make me like snow that falls and never melts
Crystallize me in the multifaceted edges of your mind
Break my bones and separate my molecules
Turn me into what you want, if not just for tonight
I saw a blazing constellation the other day
And it reminded me of you
I felt my face aflame under my sheets
And I needed you so bad to come cool my skin
With your lips froze like the ice that roams your blood
Passionate like roses, but ever shy like daffodils
Yellow with worry and trepidation
You wound my hair with your finger so tight
I could feel your apprehension that night
Could taste it in your heady breath
And we fell asleep afraid
Having nightmares that paralyze you in your rest
Trapped by our own emotions
But I never asked you to stay, you just did
Maniacs keep awful company
That's what I told you anyway as I counted the blades of grass
Outside tastes like magic and honey
Like energy made for our lungs sweet drinks for our mouths
Steady it goes
The pounding of my afferent heart
Until it doesn't
But the earth that will fill my lungs then
Will be just as bittersweet as your tongue is now

eternal love -
bright & effervescent
illuminating the walls of a vagabonds heart
walls - which used to be opaque
like ebony glass -
the kind of love that makes young boys
recite loquacious poetry
into ladies' chamber windows -
eternal love that never sees eternity

bruises leave pain
and marks
but never memories
constantly we forget
how a bruise has come about
though we know touching it hurts
so we leave it alone
to heal
and soon we forget it was ever there
so why
when it comes to bruises (metaphorical ones) in history
does the memory of pain
and the marks
hold so strong?
we need to learn to be more like bruises forgive but never forget?
how about we
forgive
forget
and MOVE ON

The sunset was fantastically accurate to my mood as we laid in the plush grass and listened to lyrics that told us the hearts of saints are the hardest to love and that we should stay away and I, being a saint in your eyes, became the one poison you could not swallow. You left me that night.

2. Pushing rocks off the overhang to the sea which used to crash high onto the surf but now only just reaches the sandy banks of our backyard, I tossed rocks into that water for months waiting for you to come back.

3. Fact: there was a period of time where I would sleep off your special brand of liquor
    Fact: you called it love
    Fact: I thought of it as ***

4. If I had told you I loved you for the 186th time would you have finally accepted it?

5. Towers of lies like skyscrapers, every floor filled with the lies I've told (What floor ma'am? Oh deceit? Yes see, that's floor 23)

6. Excessive bleeding of my heart caused by the incisive ends of your sharp words.

7. You think I don't understand the flow of your mind and I think it's silly because I do - the flow isn't quite unlike a river near a stormy city, overflowing half the time I rain information on you, information that dries up on the banks of your brain like a salamanders back on a steamy beach, it runs in one ear (maybe) and out the other because you don't care about me anymore.

8. Never did I see a moon shine like it did the night I caught you sipping moonshine with my neighbors' daughter - the one who was 15, not the oldest - which would have hurt me less but I suppose my pain was your goal.

9. Making assumptions doesn't suit me well, but half the assumptions I made about you we're true like when I assumed you we're really out are Pinky's the night of our 1 year anniversary when you told me you got caught up at work. How do you get caught up at a 9-5 desk job?

10. Or the one time I assumed you were at work the time my sister went into labor really late on February 29th. I assumed, when you said the only car we had wasn't working and you were stuck at work, but when I drove by your job (in our neighbors car) under the direction of my very pregnant sister, I saw what I assumed - you ******* the floor tendant in the back of our Prius.

11. Her name was Becky, right?

12. My sister named the baby (a girl) Adelaide. You always called her Addy, knowing she hated it

13. The last night we went to watch the sunset I had you wait until the sky was an ink blot and explained to you that you made me like this, like the sky looked then. And even though I couldn't see your face I knew I'd hurt you because you'd picked me up 2 years ago by asking what my favorite color of the sky was.

14. I don't love you anymore, but I still miss you. If that doesn't make you want to just kiss the holy ground I walk on then I suppose I'm just wasting time and breath.

I am contempt with the fact, that I will always sip my coffee
before it cools and burn my lips
Because I know when I do, you will kiss away the pain
And I am realizing now as the stream curls around my face
that we were no more ready for commitment
than we were love
So I'll take my sips of piping coffee and await your tender lips
knowing it will never go further than that
And I will accept it.

There are levels to this madness, it doesn't start from nothing
The sadness is bone deep and my molecules contain the disappointment that makes up every inch of my skin
I wonder all the time where exactly I'll find peace...
Will it be me alone in a dark room, listening to music?
Will it be in some foreign land with spicy foods and colorful culture with beautiful people around?
Or will I find peace in a person?
I hope to all hell I don't
I don't want to have to curl up in someone's arms to feel safe in my skin
I want to be free.

If you listen closely you'll hear that my mournings are fake
and the actual problem I have isn't within me
You'll notice I have amazing brain functions and there is no lack of oxygen, so the mistakes I make are natural
There's nothing worse than realizing your ***** ups were supposed to happen
Where does happiness come in all this?

Blue
The color I always imagine your eyes to be
Same as the sea
And I'm always pleasantly surprised
When they're both bluer than
I'd dreamt they'd be
Blue
The predetermined color to represent sadness
But I like the color blue
More than I like being sad
The only thing about blue that makes me sad
Is not seeing it
Blue
You imagine the sky should be this shade
Yet are always shocked
When it blooms a magical purple at night
And turns the softest pastel pink
At dawn

Red
The known color of fear, it scares me also
Reminds me of bad things
Dreams soaked in red
Are never ones to be retold
Though it looks magnificent on brown skin
Red
Representative of love
Yet war
Maybe that's why love always turns bad
Why we can get so angry
With the ones we hold dearest
Red
Reminds me of sweet apples
And sweeter lips
Of harlot lips, like the one's on that girl
The one you left me for
That Saturday evening the sky was blue

I can't decide whether it's your tone
our your tendency to be meaner than you truly are
                                                                                              that makes me want to help you
                                                                                                 makes me want to heal you
I don't know how or why but you've
consumed all of my attention
I don't want to wake up in the morning without
a thought of you
Do you know how it feels to be
dependent on another's presence?
Everyday I search endlessly for some sign
that you've seen me
recognized me
                                                                                               I can only deal with so much
Don't ever leave me.

“Why do you want it all from me?”

I halt our conversation,
with wine redder than my boney elbows
in a glass tipped at swollen, drunk lips.
Hesitation knows me best;
my breath laps heady from my throat
and I blush from exhaustion & fear.

“I am okay without it all. I don’t need anything from anyone.” I tell these lies often. You say nothing back. You've none to give.

What is all! But an eternity’s worth of want, a list
of things cherished and bought in bakeries
or vacation homes, empty until wanted...

that wine sat in my belly and warmed it
I didn’t drink water
I didn’t need it
I wanted much from you that night
the milk of conversation would never be enough

I wanted the soul, the songs, the sight of your eyes inches from mine illuminated by morning’s soft gracious dawn.
I wanted a ******* miracle to eat.

All, was something I never enumerated in you,
simply assumed, and realized soon after how
I would never succumb to wanting too much.
And now my plate lies empty.

I gave all I gathered to appease you;
you, and the trepidation you carried sea to sea.
I should’ve explained my red want.
How it was dried and mistaken for a cranberry,
how I lacked the effort to show you more, all

I craved all. But I found you had none to share.

If ever in your entire life
You've felt a little sour
Eat teaspoon of sugar and smile a little
Keep thinking the world will get better
When days are dark
When you open your eyes
After attempts to sleep away pain
Lift your head a little higher
Surround yourself with the sunshine of life
It's possible that the bad days run long
And the best nights of our lives
Seem to be as thin and wafting as breath
But if you continue to be
Living, breathing, walking, running
Then it's okay and worth it
There are many things to live for
Like the feel of sand beneath your toes
Or solid rock under your hands
As you climb adventurous mountains
Or the sound of a baby's laughter and cry
And the rushing waves of the ocean
The taste of exotic foods
And the view of oriental fashions
It's all worth living for
Worth being for
So swallow your pride, along with your fear
And conquer your days
Listen close as the world cheers

Whipped through the crowd in a
Senseless tornadoes wrath
Head bangs and throbs with painful passion
For the rush received
Blurred are the lines
Between faith in you and leaping off this boat
Maybe the wind will catch me
Maybe it won't
Maybe the wind will swallow me down into it's perilous belly
Yes
That sounds more pleasant

Lightning (in their eyes)
• dangerous
• force to be reckoned
• skin peeling from impact
• must stay away, must stay away
• irrational fear
• terrifyingly easy way to die

Lightning (in my eyes)
• tantalizing
• giver of unseen life
• glowing skin and electric scars
• need to be close to
• pure energy, causing extreme wanderlust
• something so beautiful, could it **** me?

It doesn't matter to me
If your fingertips sweat
As they glide over ivory piano keys
Be the music lovely
And if you look me in the eyes
And if your hazel gaze never falters
Then I'll know, and we'll never need to worry
I never knew a boy
With a heart as wide as your mind is full
You are the epitome of worldliness
Anything you know to be true is useful
I imagine your thoughts to be magical
Dreams, yours are universal
I'd love to hear you play
To watch the pads of your fingers
Tap all over the board
Like they may do my body
Apparently I have dreams too...
Dreams of me waking up with you beside me
In a tent, cuddled close, fire burning
Watching your lazy attentiveness as you drive
Top down, wind in our faces
If only I had hair to flap in it
It makes me nervous how different we are
And sometimes I think the thoughts I have about you
Are just that, thoughts
But then you talk to me
Guys never just talk to me...
Unless they want to be friends
God, I'd love to be your friend
But I suppose I want  more than that too
I want you to play piano for me
I need to know if you can fill the hole
That runs through my heart
Steals all my happiness
I want to know if you can make me smile
Without even saying a word
These are more my thoughts than a poem
But it needed to be said
Because I think I could love you
Love...
It's a **** powerful word, huh?

This is my goodbye letter:

Goodbye,
   I hope to never see you face again. Not because I hate it, but because I hate the way it makes me feel. I don't like feeling confused when one shan't be confused. It does not sit well with me. There are many emotions I have come into check with but confusement is where I draw the thickest and final line. I must say I adored you, and idolized and revered you. I never saw myself beside you until you made it slightly apparent I was worth it. But that picture was never drawn, was it? It was never meant for us to be one no matter how much I yearned for it. We cannot simply be together so we must be far, far apart. So adieu, my neverwaslove, I hope I never see you again.
              
          Very Insincerely,                  
**Broken and Unsatisfied

Did you really think
You could form diamonds out of his words
I realize that yes, they cut
But there are no fractals disguising his hate
Burned lips from letting cigarettes
Go for too long
You've come to hate those lips and
What mysteries come from this feeling
Why you love him, only God knows
Maybe there's perfection only you can see
Maybe it's the lack of perfection
Maybe it's the way his eyes will go
Slant and opaque when you tell him stories
The gritty sound of his voice and laughter
Smokers are disgusting but
You'd smoke a thousand cigarettes with him
Why do we love the ones
Who are most dangerous for us?

You really may have travelled too far
But only in your heart
Your physical body is constantly catatonic
Especially when the scars on your skin
Are lit up like a strip mall on Friday
Scars lead you back home
Home is where again?
Possibly somewhere far off in the sky
Definitely actually underneath the ground
Soaking pounds of dirt into skin
Breathing pounds into lungs
Teeth gnash
And eyelids flutter
Oh my, you've relapsed again.

Gossamer
That's what her hair felt like
When she leaned over my body and
Rusty nails  
Is how her fingers felt
Trailing paths up my back and
Daises
That's what her breath smelled like
As she whispered love in my ear and
Sunflowers
Are what she looks like
When she smiles and I feel my heart collapse

It affects her:
The calls, the messages, the smirks, the frowns, the curses, the white lies, the missed phonecalls, the skipped dates, the whistles, the hoots, the whispers, the stares, the anger, the harsh truths, the words they use to describe a human being that just happens to have a little extra **** to her body, the comments that come from those of the same *** about a body that could be perfect but why bother if there's no one to be perfect for?

It affects him:
The blank stares, the condescending voices, the cheers, the tears, the jeers, the insults, the absent father, the oblivious mother, the useless job, the harrowing boss, the old flame, the aches, the pain, the fact that he can't seem to make things work right when it could benefit him, the assumptions by them that he should be strong enough to carry the burdens of 12 others plus his own.

We need our girls to be smart but not so much that they become overconfident
We need our men to be strong and tears are meant for boys
We want our girls to be pretty
We want our boys to be handsome
We want our girls to understand their role in society and that they must not cross an arbitrary line made by those who fear them
We want our boys to grow up and understand they must provide, provide, provide and if they don't it's a sign of weakness
We want our women to provide children but oh no no no they must not work, where is the father?
We want and expect our men to be fathers to children, but not the ones born out of wedlock
We want, want, want but never ask our children anything because while we've strived hard to help their brains grow
we don't actually want them using that knowledge

We oppress our own people
And wonder why we see little success.

you let him shower you with cheap pearls and fake diamonds.
you get excited like they mean something to you when you’d much rather be given
a book of his or a jar of sand from the beach he used to visit as a child.
something meaningful and true.
not a lame romantics idea of a present.
you want something real from him, just for once so you can say to yourself
and others
that you did not marry a narcissistic robot with preprogrammed methods of love.
but you never complain, not even once.
you just accept his presents with all the love you have and the biggest smile you can manage.
then one day the gifts stop coming.
he no longer drowns you in the beauty of plastic necklaces
and gold-plated rings.
half empty glasses of aged *** are scattered among-st the house
and you wonder why.
but you don’t ask because you figure its nothing to do with you.
missed kisses in the morning showing up late when he had plenty of time to be ready,
shades of lipstick that aren’t yours staining his shirt collars, yet you swear it has
nothing to do with you.
then one day you find him drunk and sweaty, spitting and screaming into the sky
like he’s possessed by a spiteful demon.
he curses the night all in italian,
beautiful
but terrifying at the same time.
you grab onto him only to have him shove you away.
hurt by the gesture you leave him to his woes
and try to forget the night by popping the biggest pill you can find
because having to deal with him then would be worth more
than cheap jewelry and heartache.
numbing sleep finds you.
the next day you finally decide to question him, to find out why he’s been acting
so distant like the last clouds after a torrent rain.
but before you can make a move he’s already made his.
you come home to find his bags packed and stacked high in the driveway.
now you’re asking why, you’re yelling and screaming
and tearing at his shirt, hands bent like claws.
and once more he shoves you away with the utmost disgust
plastered across his usually gentle expression.
you beg one last feeble time for an explanation.
and as he walks away
with no contempt for your well being, no care for your heart
he mutters words that make you coil with self hate and regret,
like a sucker punch to the gut.
as you bore holes into his back with your eyes, he grates
“I miss your Mona Lisa smile.”

If bells never ring for you
When you leave through open doors
I'll stand on the other side and cheer
And if the lights never shine for you
As you stand upon an empty stage
I'll smile brightly as to comfort you
If treetops reach too far above
When you try to climb their age'd branches
I'll hold you up, no need to fear falling
But all this could be trivial
For how could we determine fate
And what might we feel later on
Shall I be as forgiving then?
With ample heart I love you now
And I suppose I will tomorrow
But times do change
And I'm known to be volatile
Though I'd never hurt you
And I could never hurt him...
I suppose I wane decidebly indecisive
Too troubled to say I love you straight

Insouciance
It drives reckless souls
Out into the night
Spreading their unruly plight
Knowing nothing of fear, only of fight
Irresponsibility is a term
Those of this heart know well
As it's screamed from rickety back doors
It's reek seeps through cracked floors
Gets pounded deep in their cores

They are taking over this world

V:** C'est la vie.

A: Vous croyez? Pourquoi?

V: Ma vie n'est pas belle.

A: Ouais? Je ne pense pas que moi-même. Vous êtes très belle, intelligente, et génial! Je t'aime beaucoup.

V: Oui, je le suis. Mais ma vie n'est pas. Vous voyez?

A: Je ne sais pas. Vous pensez trop petit de vous-même. Vous devez sourire.

V: Je pense que vous pensez trop haute opinion de moi.

V: Je t'aime.

A: Je t'aime aussi.

The difference between trusting you and letting go... quite like the difference between walking into an unknown dark house, and trying to find the kitchen or waking up at home to a Sunday morning breakfast. It's more than subtle, but less than drastic. I suppose if I could find a light switch along these black walls it would change our chances of survival but I never try hard at any kind of love because what's the guarantee of satisfaction? A little bit of wine to tide your feelings is how you medicate when you think I'm leaving for good, but something always brings me back and I find you drunk and dizzy laying face down on a mahogany wood floor in a house that's still dark except for the dim light of realization that's clicked on in my brain for the thousandth time. "I should go now" the voice in my head always calls out and ******* the day I listen to it because that may be the day I'm actually sane. But what's the joy of being sane if you're never happy? The difference between loving you and letting go is as big a difference as there is between the chances of me leaving you, 100-1, so I guess your odds are good. You could worry less about me leaving and more about how you're going to make me stay but honestly as long as you keep taking me to bed the way you do I don't see myself escaping this heaven anytime soon. Its a devil's curse the way my heart thumps rapidly from anticipation and fear whenever you're near me. So stop asking for differences and start looking for what's the same. Love will not be and has never been a game for me and I do not like playing around with such matters. So just love me now, please.

black and blue bruises print your back like a roadmap
and the red scratches are statelines leading toward our passion
enraged and engulfed in love
no outside matter can awake us
or catch our attention until the deed is done
and afterwrads we lay in a sweaty pile of legs and arms
and we both glisten and pant
and the world smells like daises dipped in sunshine
waking up from the deep slumber that later ensues
is like being born again
muscles are sore, such a sweet sense of pain
and everything is too bright, but it's nice
like the sun is a close second cousin you haven't seen in a while
together at night we're like a storm cloud
but there's always a decent sized rainbow when we wake
laying here now, in this morning glow, I watch
I watch your skin quiver at my touch
and I watch you eyelids flutter
you stick your fingers in my hair even though they get stuck
and we giggle and it is musical
because your laughter sounds like what I imagine the moon does
deep, but raspy like you've been smoking candy cigarettes
it's quite impossible for me to express my love
in any other way than between these sheets
and if that makes me unholy then so be it,
and let me ****** forever
because your body is my temple
and I bless you skin every night with my kisses
so I suppose that makes me a saint actually
and your words my teachings and your tattoos my scribe
I don't fully believe in reincarnation
and less in soulmates
but this feels too good not to have been
premonitioned by ancient stars
there are three ways I love you
and the first two are the way you take me to bed
the third is your eyes
and the way they are illuminant
like moonbeams
and round
like they could be innocent
except I know the deep seated lust they hide
god, your eyes are so beautiful

Breath
It pulls out of me and I'm left
Needing
Sometimes I forget
It is my own choice
To pull in new air
And breathe again

Anger
Like an infection
It festers and burns in my chest
And lo, I don't realize from time to time
It is my own thoughts
That **** my joy
I need to relax once more

Fear
It fills me and
Squashes my pride
And confidence
Many a days I overlook
The possibility that
There's absolutely nothing to fear

Paranoia
It tells me to be watchful
And I feel all eyes on me
Nerves on end and tingling
My nights get restless
Though sleep is all
I really need

Lies
I hear them constantly
And like an animal
I am trained into believing
Obediently figuring
That everything I hear
Must only be the truth

spend the night sober and wake
up drunk, tangled in legs and sheets
giggle at his snoring until he
rolls over.

nuzzle that sharp point of his nose
and mumble words of
affirmation, breath warm and tingling,
raises the peach fuzz on ears.

get up and go to the kitchen
house shoes and robes? maybe it's
nice enough to open a window
or two, and you might burn the bacon so.

argue over who cooks. start grabbing
things out of the fridge: jam, eggs, butter
that's non dairy, and cheese that isn't
cause it just doesn't taste the same.

hold hands, place fingers on nape
of neck, squeeze, rub the small of his
back, tease his lips open for a taste
just a taste, maybe take a break in the foyer

get out two plates.
eat.

I don’t understand why you left.
Don’t understand why I left you.
Understand you, I don’t. Left...why?
Why, I understand. You left. Don’t.
You understand left, why don’t I?
Left you, don’t I understand why.

down my back
across the rivets of my spine
are the letters
you carved in
none make words
none make sense
just expressions of the passion
we were experiencing at the time

on my fingertips
tatted beneath the edges of my nails
are the sayings you whispered
to me daily
"i love you"
"this is us"
"we are infinite"
every morning that i rose

invisible on my chest
etched into my ribs
so close to my heart
are the things you do for me
and the thoughts i have about them
how good you are
how nice your voice sounds
when you read to me

and lastly
plastered right on the front of my skull
are the arguments we had
the evil things we said
to each other
things we never meant
to be permanent
but will be here forever

till
death
do
us
**part

Does it matter if the caged bird flies?
Truly, I wouldn't expect you to understand
Why does a poem need wings
When it's lines carry enough beat
To give it speed through the times?
Locked up or let out
We still have our voices
It doesn't take much to be heard
It's the fear of isolation
That keeps these rich kids quiet
Its the fear of responsibility
That keeps these poor kids home
To be loved and to live and then to leave
Cycle of life, cycle of patience
It goes and comes and goes like
The merry go round that is your (not so)dysfunctional brain
Branches of knowledge that used to hang low
On the giving tree
Now are broken and burned, the branches higher up now contain the world's information
And how tyrannical does that sound?