Why don't you forget about me.
When you're feeling lonely.
When you need a ****.
How about you forget about me.

I am not your cigarette
Smoke me and leave me on the pavement.
Why don't you forget about me.

Why don't you leave me where you found me.
Alone.

Such a moody colored mess
Lying between the sheets.
"Not today"
Let me sleep.

A swollen throat,
From all the things she never said.
"Not today"
Let me lay here in my bed.

And the clouds pressed onward,
And her cares hung above her head.
Such a wild mind she wrestles,
In this beaten bed.

"Not today"

I sit on the stand-still lake,
Running my hand through the water.
I see the fish swim below.

Completely dry,
I'm merely floating.

And here comes the wake.
The rippled rush.

I'm submerged.
Down I plunge to the bottom.
Sitting in the sand.

I hold my breath.

Don't go looking for an answer.
Don't stir the sitting ***.
You'll hear nothing in a murmur.
You'll see nothing in the dark.

If he wants you, he will show you.
Still my heart, be still.

There is nothing in this moment,
That won't surely show again.

So you danced the night away,
In your best black dress,
Champagne runs through your blood,
Wine roses shade your face,
And you can't help but think of him.

It's all so new.
It's young and shy.
And so are you.

But you know better.

Hoping for nothing,
And you can't help but think of him.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just a memory.
How many people remember me,
in past tense?
All the lives I've entered and spoken, and laughed and seen.
The people I've dreamt of, and who have dreamt of me.

And now I'm in the present.
And I can't help but see, all the lives I've exited.
Just a face in a memory.

Imaginary pillow talk.
Do you talk to me when I'm not there?
I picture your mood.
The weight of your day washing over your face.

These trees are changing colors.
The sea is moody and unforgiving.
This constant stream of thumping.
In its strong persistence.

Imagine ten years from now.
The trees still change, the sea still stings
And the pillow talk still whispers,
Silently.

But everything's changed, and you never would have guessed.
Our imaginary dreams are only second best.

what if we could fold up the mountains,
into a small square that we keep in our pocket.
what if this barren road littered with cacti,
wasn't a bittersweet median,
between what you want and what you have.
what if it was all enough,
what if it didn't break your heart.
what if it isn't the end,
but the long- awaited start.

There's a bitter sort of beautiful,
in this recklessness.
Where the plunging river of fear,
finds its drought.
Nothing matters to your head,
nothing matters to your heart,
but it's the thirst in your soul,
that makes you whole.
It's the frigid midnight cold that keeps you bare,
It's the salty ocean water rising over your head,
that bittersweet numbness that let's you know,
You're not dead.

The candle's flicker casts shadows upon your skin,
Like warm blood, wax drips down the wick.
Your eyes spark a call within my chest,
And suddenly I forget the rest.

A ghostly belt restricts my arms,
A silent smile seals my lips,
My shaking heart weakens my knees,
My mind a buzzing hive of bees.

No matter ticking, chiming, or striking,
Time will tell that I am yours.

People walk into your life.
They share their stories, they fight with you, they make love to you -

People walk out of your life.

Their entrance as unexpected as their exit.
But how different and miserable life would have been without them.

I just can't explain how much I want you to stay.

Salt kissed lips,
Sun spanked hips,
The waving ocean hits and hits,

The shore.

And the sand sitting bodies crave more.

Like the tarnished spine of a book unread,
My heart awaits the face.
And in years gone by,
A winding mile,
I've never seen the space.

The space that greets me,
Between my body and yours,
My body and theirs,
Anybody and somebody.

Like an unopened present,
Amidst a few,
I unwrap myself and see.

The only person I never knew,
Was me.

When the day sits still, in graceful reflection,
the sky a mirror image in its place-
My mind does drift to floating figures above,
The chasm that swallows me whole and steals my sole attention,
The very hands, the very lips -
My body frozen with thoughts,
My mind racing around the track-

My heart thaws.

Calloused hands grip the golden shine of pride.
A dull green barrell, and three shining plugs.

Thank you.

White hair receding back to yester years.
Memories standing strong on the front line.
No tears.

Thank you for your service.

Sitting in a rocking chair,
watching the birds flutter past the glass.

A long life lived,
a short life passed.

They say it's all about control,
that's the key.
Not her soul, her thoughts,
her therapy.

They say I'm fine,
nothing's wrong with me.
Not this building wall, or gaping hole,
or quivering.

I stare at shaking knees,
a plaid tablecloth and ***** blue jeans.
No one says what they really want,
no one explains what they really mean.

Just *** and lies and therapy.

Hopefully her hope will hold,
Surely she sees how strong she stands,
Unless she waits upon a man.

Will we wait while she wastes time,
'Til she's told that these thoughts trap her.
What is it she's really after?

Love.

Well that's no thing to search for;
love lingers, love lusts, love lasts but:

Love loves to surprise.

Cold coffee sits in her cup as she watches the door eagerly.
The waitress behind the counter turns her back, and spits into a cappuccino.
Cold coffee remains on the table.
*****
She looks down at her white ceramic mug.
Deep breath. Take a sip.
*Life's a *****

A terrible ache grows firm in my side,
creating a home within my desires.
When? Just tell me when.

Wait

Four seasons blending into one another,
prolonging answers.
Hunger for clouds that have never poured rain.
Slowly driving yourself insane.
Now?

Wait

But how?
Slow my heart, and calm my mind,
and try to leave no moment behind.

Simply wait

A slow crawl on hands and knees,
26.2 miles with no break, no wheels,
Searching for a quick escape.

*Wait

Somewhere across the vast field she found her soul,
hidden among the weeds, forgotten amongst the soil;

it glowed anyway.

As if a year was just a moment, and winter never yielded snow.
and in her solace she did know, it would always be this way.  

she would glow anyway.

Glossy paper like glossy lips,
Words are written into existence.
Can't take them back, can't keep them in,
and though they hurt,
they fill the void.

The space in the air we can't avoid.
We **** them in and can't begin,
to ever let them out again.

reverberated eloquence

like a floor length gown

unrequited love

like an echoing sound

unwashed feelings

like a root within the ground

unpleasant after taste

that you can't wash *down

Careless caring
just cross each other out.
Forced feelings
just dirt among a drought.

A U T H E N T I C I T Y

that's      what      counts

Blushing water stirs,
underneath the willow,
floating, floating
flying.

gone.

Sometimes it hurts too much to care,
To trust all things on which they swear.
But melting wick still needs it's flare,
And kindled heart is best when bare.

I sit on a moon and smile all day long,
for my husband.
I wear tentacles on my head and dance around,
for my husband.
I have no speaking role and yet I am the star.
Georges grins from behind the lens.

She saw her rosey figure, looking back
through the reflective glass.
Five small fingers waving.
And no one else.

She walks through the crowd.
In her prettiest sundress.
And her hair freshly brushed.
For no one to see.

And when she cries.
Sitting on her bed in the crinkled sheets.
Who will see?

Every small tear that falls, whispers
"notice me"

The girl in the mirror wipes away her tear,
That's alright, dear
I'm still here.

Oh, I'm keen of heart,
not sound of mind.
I'm a ticking clock,
running out of time.

To trust my gut or trust his possible lies,
where does too much work,
cross the line?

Shouldn't I be happy,
Should it feel so wrong,
when alone I stumble,
and together I'm blind.

Longing to be happy,
to ignore all signs,
wanting his love so badly,
leaving doubts behind.

Paranoia takes over,
washed in dreary thoughts,
Anxious kneeding of my stomach,
and my love the greatest cost.

I long to get lost under the setting sun,
it's golden glow filling me whole,
making me full,
warming my spirit.

Shared sunlit kisses in a soft summer wind,
not even knowing where to begin.

The birds circling above,
the sand brushing by below.

My heart's been filled,
and we've no where better to go.

Carefully holding on to his thoughts,
collecting his bearings.
The tears begin to slide outside,
without my permission.
Each word feeling wrong and raw on my tongue.

The silence holds us,
each in our own minds.

I long to feel his touch.
But I cannot bare to have him feel my scars.
These rigid bars keeping me locked within.

He musters up a weary smile.
*I will wait for you, always

You and me are messy.
Stained in ways others aren't.
Crusted around the edges.

You and me are messy.
Throw us in the wash.
Hang us out to dry.

You and me are messy.
Together.
Messy together.

The scruff on his face tickles against my lips.
The only sound I hear is our unsteady breath,
In and out.
His fingertips send small rushes of heat throughout my entire body.
It was a crush.
Small giggles and holding hands.
His arms wrapped around me as I lean into him.
It was a crush.
And now it's much more.

Poker faces on Balboa,
the rainbow as our chips.
An orange glow blows past us in the thick, salty air.
Golden blue sea water carrying itself our way,
in tall graceful strides.
A vulnerability shared.
Just for us.
And the only thing I can think is:

Can I keep you?

Watching his face flicker as he forms a new plan.
He is crafty, this one.
Gentle would be a good word to describe us.
A careful couple, daring adventurers.
Carefully forming something new,
something exciting.

In a blink he was there.
An unexpected blessing.
And the seas are calmed.
My heart's waters are still.

And I appear crazy now.
Speaking to butterflies.
Asking them how they managed to find a way inside.

He put me into words.
All my features, all my quirks,
my taste in music, my love for sugar, my secret obsessions:
All into words.

I stare at myself.
Word after word,
each connected thought.
Thoughts about me.

He put me into words.
And now I see myself as he sees me.

Are you familiar with the ache that grows in the heart?
The one where something was blooming long ago.
Feeling arms around you as you awoke from sleep,
hearing a voice in your ear, that you were supposed to keep?

But the ache isn't permanent, and you must wait it out.
This fateful era of being that some call,
a love drought.

My friend and I are writing a song.
I have been trying to write from the heart and not from my head.

"Feeling crazy from this loneliness,
From a girl who fell too hard,
oh my darling, where's our love song,
Some love never lasts that long."

She is my little china doll,
sitting on her shelf.
Her fragile figure delicately composed.
Her porcelain face is always smiling.

She is my little china doll.
Carefully, daintily, beautifully.

The rustle of the forest stirs me in the middle of the night.
I awake to moonlight glowing through the tent.
A quiet falls over everything in a dark velvet wave.
"Wake up," I whisper into the gray light.
No reply.
"Please wake up!" I yell out.
Nothing.
"WAKE UP," I try one last time.
I suddenly hear a muffled laughter.
"Unbelievable!"

"You have a bad dream?"
"No, I just can't sleep. It's too quiet."
No reply.
"STOP THAT."
More laughing.

Dry crusted rings form in the bottom of my mug.
Caffeine and cynicism rush through my blood.
The crowded streets of the Big Apple echo through my ears.
But my eyes only see one thing.

You.

No matter where I escape to from the quiet of my bed.
I'm sure I'll see you soon.

Maybe the back of an airplane headed to London,
maybe a small car driving along a cobblestone path in the rain.
Maybe free-falling towards San Diego with a parachute above me.
You always show up.

It doesn't matter how long it's been.
We always meet in the "where's Waldo" of it all.

Tonight's episode takes place in Mumbai.
See you there, P.B.

I imagine a long string, looping through the brain.
Purple, green and blue;
shattering and breaking through.
All the tunnels dimly lit,
and the lobby grand in height.
All the swirls and bubbles; igniting my delight.
The brain is but a flicker,
a light bulb that never rests.
Until a loop and bubble clash!
That chaos is the best.

When the past comes to haunt you,
and knocks upon your door,
what will you say?
When the worst is brought upon you,
and decides it's here to stay,
what will you say?
When love has been broken,
and surely tossed away,
what will you say?

Will you smile and say hello?
Or will you turn and look away?

What do I say.

Have you ever wanted something so badly, that you forget the
repercussions?
When you gaze into someone's eyes and can see their past.
And can imagine their future.

That vulnerability so fragile.
Putting all you have into their hands, and praying for a miracle.
That connection that breaks your heart, brings you to tears,
and that makes you feel alive.
Is that what love is?

Wanting to be so close to someone,
that you read their every thought.
Gripping that overwhelming rush that bends and shapes your soul.
Accepting all that they are.
Every single freckle, word and flaw.

Is that what love is?
A speechless hold envelops your whole being.
And shakes you from the inside.
This strange and haunting need.
That will forever captivate you and turn you back and forth,
within the soft touch of Love's hands.

Golden grains of sand gliding along the bottom of the sea.
They understand the depths of the earth.
But we cannot.
Ladybugs perched on idle blades of grass.
They see the world in its vast height.
But we cannot.
These eyes that see, deceive us.
We see what we want.
We cannot comprehend with our vision so blurred.
The wandering secrets of the world.
Curled up in corners, unfolding in meadows.
But can we see them?