can you feel my demented thoughts

from where you lie.

pressing upon you
moving through the slew
of my thick ego
reaching for the tenderness
of the promise of one more kiss

I didn't mean for this.

take.
it.



its all I have,
these words.
and I put these
words to paper,
but they are circling,
the garbage chute in my mind,
words I throw your way every time.

It was bonfires till the morning,
I wrapped up in the paleness of your skin,
and the embers darkening,
and camping in your backyard,
with you hands wrapped around me,
like you were falling,
but it wasn't you darling
I was the one falling,
into tenderness in sickness,
weakness attached to health,
and the regret of you existence,
married to the wealth of my emotions,
pressed tight between us,
was the seed of all my hope.

take it back.

Hold my hand.
I'm not asking you,
hold my hand.
step back from the ledge you climbed up to,
take a breath,
hold my hand,
move back grab my fingers,
hold tight to my wrists,
grab at my elbows move past them
hug my waist
and i will keep you from falling the very least Ill you help you back up,
and like you,I  too  feel like falling,
late at night,
between the cold sheets and the corner room,
I scratch at the raw parts,
scars that I beg to heal,
I poke at the raw meat and the bruises,
I make believe and etch and sketch all in the same sequence,
but I offer this body,
worn and weathered,
I'll do my very best to shield you from the cold,
step back from the edge love,
I need you to see what you mean to me.

your love had limits.

your love,
wrapped in warmth,
soft socks,
long sweaters,
tea,
long chapters,
your love,
in degrees.

I fall deep in your love
in time with the seasons.

SPRING
brings
green tea and growth
between
the YOU
and the ME,
SUMMER
shines
and we heat up the sheets,
once used for mere sleep,
my fingers dance up your spin,
you give love to me every time,
but you don't know what you want
I know what I want.
I want you. I want you to be Mine.

and this is the FALL,
burnt orange,
crimson red,
life dying,
leaves falling,
Im constantly calling,
your name in the  littered streets cloaked in decay,
and the leaves their dying,
I am falling ,
over the edge,
over your edge,
down your walls,
I reach for your heart,
hearts beat,
beat.beat.
I listen to your feet pound the earth escaping sunsets, to sunrise,

And I am surprised after every time,
you pass on the Raggedy Ann,
and I boycott the bands you introduced me too,
though the melody already bleeds in me,
I feel the cold of winters fingers,
causing my hold on you to break,
my hold on truth to shatter,
it doesnt seem to matter
you ripped out my organs
and you are gone gone gone.

We wear prices to work,
The cost of being a success or failure.
The confident strut to the sixth floor,
In Jimmy choos and Hermes.
You pass by her, cowering at the elevator door.
In thin soled Bidcos and patched lesu.
The tea lady you don't really notice.
Her pale skin matched the dust on the window panes.
Brought on from watching the world pass by in a blur.
She pushed the button for the ground floor and watched the walking label go to the top.

We wear prices to church.
Our bible and hymn book easily preserved from the top shelf.
Unworn from weekly visits to the Holy place.
The priest wants a new house,
Your neighbor needs a car,
You need to eat more.

We wear prices to a match.
Will our country qualify this time round? Or is it just a farce?
Buy a ticket, buy a drink.
This establishment must see many a buck.

We let prices define us,
We are bought for a song and sell each other out.
Mother said set the right price,
And so i stand at the streets,
waiting for someone to pay my worth.

There once was a woman named Mrs Bess
Who couldn't find her own address
She got slightly confused on the way there
And ended up at a village this side of Mayfair
Not being able to find her address stressed Mrs Bess