we play the waiting game
every day it seems
waiting for you to get better
waiting for you to become the mother
waiting for you to make a life that i fit into

i’m sick of being an extra piece
that can so easily be forgotten
or swept under the rug like
dirt

so i’m sorry for being okay enough to let go
when i wanted you to hold me
i’ve waited long enough
spent my entire life in line
now i’m just tired

Bound by the bond
Shackled it remains

Mortal the bond
Shackles too

To deny this life
The love it receives
Deserves  

Bound by the bends
Invariably invisible
Written and sealed

Mortal, this life
Immortal love

Magically woven
This life a spell

I know now. Redemption hangs in the balance between the fertile crescent and the great pyramids.
The Genesis and the deconstruction.
The dowsing of the flame and the re-combustion.

We're all promised what we won't find. That's why you build up hope and waste your time.
Your position as protagonist will have you looking for exceptions, but we're all just clay living in the third dimension.

Clocks twirl and sing to remind you to keep doing what you're doing, but you would anyway, so who are they fooling ?

They're just as useless as the dollar or the president, or the concept of rules to our residence. And you can't shake the feeling that removing yourself would be best.

Though you're probably right, because our stagnant plight is leading to the roots and dirt. (It's clear as day)
But no one can stomach this, frightened and ******, so with new ideals or meanings we will flirt.

Be free.

Loving you was either falling and getting right back up or suffocating waiting for the paramedics that never arrive.
We were a hurricane inside of a desert drought,
I was caught smiling into blue eyes of the storm
and it hasn't stopped raining in my peripheral vision ever since.
I was the dog behind your shed that you shot so many times but refuses to die because it has never loved anything more than I loved puking on our first date.
Loving you was like running my fingers across a map but never finding the X that marks the spot because it was under my shirt the whole time and you're some kind of twisted open heart surgeon.
And Happy ******* new year
I hope you got your wish
No matter how many times I blew out the candles the memory of your floodgate lips hasn't stopped drowning me in my sleep.
Loving you was like throwing stones in glass houses that still echoed your name.
And It was like reading this poem to a room full of blind people who have never seen love first hand but know exactly what I'm talking about when I describe the freckles on your shoulder blades.
Like being 5 years old and breaking my ankle over and over again
Like that hotel with a no vacancy sign lit up like your smile even though it has been empty since it's been born.
And I will love you until the clock hits 365 and decide that it's enough.
Because I was in love with the person you were pretending to be and not the demons that kept you up at night.
I could put your baby picture on the back of a milk carton but you're never coming back and I should stop looking.  
But love has a habit of hunting you down
And I'd cut my own hands off before I'd ever stopped the search party.

"Get on the ground!"
"GET ON the ground!!"
"BAH"
"BAH"
"BAH"
"BAH"
"BAH"
"BAH"
"BAH"
"BAH"
"BAH"
E­ight seconds between the first verbal command and the ninth bullet's firing. You don't know blue like We do.

She was nature, beautiful
But deadly, her cheeks as
Scornful as a rose, the smile hid
The thorns underneath.

Her presence though unseen,
Could be felt, like the sun's warm
Breath on bare winter skin.

She led him somewhere secret
As the night lures the stars,
As clouds gorge on the
Fragile light of the moon.

Over the crumbled bodies
Of leaves, into the alien
Land of tranquility.

When he woke, hands burning,
There was nothing left to see.
Only a faint feeling glistening
In the air, a failing heart and
A tongue full of dreams.

you tree limb bent out from the others,
you collapsing of the chest as everyone laughs,
you mid-july broken ceiling fan

you beautiful, stand out empty picture frame -
where a family should be.

that earthquake mother,
that tectonic plate father,
you poor, caught-in-the-debris, scar on the head survivor

you valley of flowers,
those volcanic eruption grandparents,
you forgotten beauty

you ash risen lover,
you missing puzzle piece,
you faded photograph

you home,
you paradise,
you safe haven

you backseat confession,
you laying on the tile floor sleep,
you moonlit slow dance

you tender, divine lover,
you unbroken hope