i have the face of a child.
cheeks the color of summer.
my grey-blue tuesday morning eyes will smile at you from across the way
but, i'm as old as grand fathers clock
if you skinned me
and turned me inside out
and my organs have shrunken down to the size of skipping stone pebbles
and my heart
i stopped using it months ago
because all it seems to do
is add to the
lines on my hands
and get me in trouble time and time again
and id much rather not feel
like
i'm about to die
when i've just now hit the years of my life where im supposed to feel
so alive.
there's a thief on the loose
and i can only mimic
what i see in others
now
because
the simple purse stealing ******* has taken away my zest for life
and
my life is now
a simple pantomime.
a shot at trying to care
again.
tight rope walking
over a field of world war two land mines
and i know that i will fall eventually
no one can pretend forever
but i can't help myself
so maybe you can?
spring knocked on my door this morning
and i answered the door with creaky bones
and creaky floor tap dancing
but it was really morse code
for please let me sleep in
for another year
because i hate going outside
and seeing all the things die more and more as time goes on
and i hate to see
everyone smiling
with a brightness in them
that could light cities
while everything is dying
and my house is burning down
and it's almost the time of spring showers but the cloud man didn't close the shower curtains and i saw too much
and i can't un-see what i've seen
and i can't see what i haven't seen just yet
and
if i could
i'd skip ahead and read the last chapter of romeo and juliet first because i
understand life better
down
upside
and turned around
and in shambles
please believe
i would apologize
for everything
if i knew what i was apologizing for
and
i suppose i stopped using my brain awhile ago
too because
it's lost somewhere deep in the ocean
amongst a flock of boxer jelly fish
now
and your uncle has just gotten stung on the beach
and it's all your fault
because you weren't physically there to save him
you were
stuck in the clouds
thinking about the cloud man
who
you hate
so much
with the heart that you don't have enough of these days
all because
you hate the rain
or rather the way he laughs at you when you walk in it
and i can't get april out of my head
or the taste of your lips
because they tasted like mine
and i can't help but feel like the whole time i was with you i was making love to a mirror.
**maybe you weren't the monster.
it was me.