Wondering how at nearly 25
I'm feelin left out?
This shelved life
got me in two minds
But I won't cry over split milk
It'll soon be dried
Up like the invites
I forgot to R.S.V.P
too busy tellin you
I'm just too busy
tryin to do me,
Right?*

Just do right by me
tonight
And bring me back in.
Going off ain't a sin,
Yeah I may have gone off
but not by much.
Still here on the side,
Tried to stay in touch
Reaching distance,
So reach out
And pick me up
it's worthwhile
you've not had enough
What's gone today,
come tomorrow will fill your cup.
Left overs still the best
Just need some heating up,
A fresh season,
a little warmth and love

what I was going to say

but the point is..

trouble is our destiny
only two can play this game but

who will get hurt first?
who will love first?

these calls which i declined
these text which i just read

i love to tease you
i love to see you angry

you keep shouting at me
you keep calling me names

i thought you could keep up but
i just can laugh at you

there are no rules
and there will never be

but how can you win a serious game
with a funny player?

let that sink for a while sweatheart

Boogie oogie oogie man
flashing, grinning,
dancing man
bearing teeth
gnashing, gnashing, gnawing meat

*****-y man
with your grin that holds ten thousand teeth
and your chin from which
red blood drips sticky and sweet

BOO!

Boogie oogie oogie,
Mr. Boogie man
Dance with limbs that
twist and bend
and snap and crack
and thwip and thwack

Snap--
your fingers, Mr. Boogie man!
And slap your thighs
And clap your hands
Won't you join me in this dance?

And won't you stroke my face?
And kiss my cheek?
And bite my neck?
And drink my red blood so sweet?

And won't you,
with your ten thousand teeth,
devour my heart
as you feast, feast feast...

Oh, Mr. Boogie oogie oogie man
Let us dance the night away!
Your broken fingers can hold my back
as my snapping bones
go thwack, thwack, thwack

And I'll wipe the blood from my eyes
And I'll wipe the tears from my heart
And we'll boogie oogie oogie
Til death lets me part

He and I
sat on his bedroom floor planting a garden last night,
silently hoping that something might sprout.
Because we can’t shake this drought and
the water is stagnant.
He knows, and I know that the new life we’ve sewn
will flourish and thrive
because to keep it alive is to follow
the recipe.
So there we were on the ground;
hand over water,
water over soil,
soil over seeds,
the very least they need
to blossom and grow.
That might be what we needed, a formula
to help us bloom in
the cover of the night,
a strong man with a green thumb to
clip our blighted leaves before we dried up
and blew away in the wind.

But he’s not a seed,
and I am not water.

So let us sit and dig
through the dirt spilling onto the floor
and implore this new life to burgeon.

life is a stone in a pond,
once
        we sink
                we never rise,

but the ripples of our life
       touch more than we know.