i saw her today at the reception
a glass of wine in her hand
i knew she would meet her connection
at her feet was a footloose man
she was practiced at the art of deception
i could tell by her blood-stained hands
as she winked at me and said take my hand
i’ll take you on a trip with the devil
so i then took her hand

i then went down to the demonstration
to get my fair share of abuse
singing, we're gonna vent our frustrations
into to the moonlight night
we played this game

with prescription in hand
i went down to the Chelsea drugstore
to get my prescription filled
i was standing in line with Mr. Jimmy
a man that look pretty ill
we decided that we would have a soda
my favorite flavor, cherry red
i sung a song to Mr. Jimmy
and he said one word to me,
and that was "dead"

I then went home
to put myself to bed
could find the pills I had
turned on the tv, to find nothing on
as my life has always been
pretty percular
i live my life
with bleeding pain

as I sleep my days away
for the passion of the night

standing on the corner at midnight
trying to get my courage up

in the streets again
of the lonely nights

with losers and hustlers
were nothing is right

one old lady
looked sweet that night

with an ankle bracelet
that said, don’t be lonely tonight

as she winked at me
and drifted into the night

as my life has always been
lonely days and lonely nights

Breathe.

Settle yourself.

Try to understand.

We were meant to love.

And if we can not love, then we were meant to try to love.

And failing that we were made to breathe.

And try again.



-Sean Critchfield

So he texted you again
We thought he wouldn't
I know he wouldn't have
If you had let me text him
But we decided it would be better
If I didn't get arrested
For texting violent death threats
From an overprotective friend
To the guy
Who hurt you
Now he is back
And I know you aren't planning
On getting ****** in
You tell me you are just waiting
For the moment to hurt him
Back, the way he hurt you
But
It could still happen
I'm worried it will happen
I don't want to see you hurt again
I will always be here to pick up your pieces
But I would rather see you whole
So please
Be careful
Don't let him **** you in

She loved to dance,
the music didn't matter much
It was the feeling,
freedom, surrendering,

I think it was a way of communicating for her
A switch of the hips,
tap of the foot or snap of the wrist 
Illustrated her innermost feelings

I could never read dance
So for me it was only ever an obscure but intimate moment shared

Spoken words are my tools and I amplified my pointed but spinning feelings often and in person,

With no music playing, no time to reflect or poetry to serve as a conduit,
She would freeze and struggle in the immediacy of my spoken words,

These tools constructed small wonders leaving her still
For all the wrong reasons

Dissonance grew beneath the roof of these wonders
Breaching the walls,  
always at nightfall,

We were slaves to our mediums
Our mediums enslaved us
 
She never knew the steps I was shuffling in were mimicking hers,
I didn't know the routine and her music muffled my words leaving them weak, 

Hindsight, reason and honesty our last chance to dance and speak.

i've had a bad week.

the violent fall out
mixed with the creeping knowledge
of a dreadful situation
spelled doom for me.

a field day for my emotions,
who were like children in a park,
running wild and
desperately chasing each other
or other things until one day,
they all fell down.

i was found,
curled up and limp on the hard wood floor.
tears were streaking down my cheeks,
feeling like acid rolling down my face.
tears filled with rage, frustration
and sadness feel like that don't they?

and as i watched and observed from the side lines,
i see your eyes,
and i know now
that the wait is over.

i
move
now.