If I’m being Completely honest The days sometimes feel like years Since I’ve seen your Smile, the kind that lit up the room And saved me from the darkness Wound tight ‘round my heart Like stiff, bloodied bandages From a war never resolved. Sometimes When the sunlight streams Through my dusty blinds While the heat releases a Shuddering exhale The room feels like A forgotten tomb And I am the wailing ghost Knocking on my door – And who can hear me But my knocking heart?
But if I’m being Completely honest You should know that I can blink and Find myself in Paris Among the scarves and berets On darting, frenzied bodies And I will have Nicotine on my tongue And a dark coffee in hand With soft-spoken sounds of Electric words Ringing in my ears. But when I -blink- I’m in Barcelona Where the language lifts you up And dances around you In a thick cloud of intoxicating beauty While you’re Tangled up in words Until I -blink- And, there I am, Spread-eagle At the top of the Empire State – At the top of the world, On the land we once conquered In the name of a deity That once conquered us. And then I -blink- And I am in California, In a city far away, Where rows of brightly colored houses Remind me of you Because houses can be home And you are always where my heart is. And the door will have flowers Tucked into the windowsill And there will always be a candle Burning, Pining For you. And sometimes I wish I never learned to -blink- At all Because the only place I ever wanted to be Is next to you. And I -blink- And there you are In your multitude of colors And clothes and attitudes, With your disheveled hair and Hatred of mornings and your Smeared eyeliner from That time I saw you cry When I wasn’t supposed to, When I didn’t think about the future And I didn’t fear the present, But I was still running from the past As I filled the holes in my shoes With weary feet, And the holes in my heart With you. I want to -blink- And open up to you For the first or Second time So you can pour Into me And fill the empty parts Left so long to neglect
But instead I will -blink- And I will find myself in Spain And I will get drunk on Wine and words And find myself in verse And I will fill myself With heady fumes And a nightly muse And a shorter fuse …