May I see the rain, she asked the teacher politely
No, the teacher replied, the thunder in her voice
A frown and smothered protest
Nothing to quench the thirst but thoughts of drops, descending, bending time
A truly sad tale, to be remembered in every storm

-cj

About certain metaphors my senses become leaky
Can you hear me trickle
With these phrases my limbs tremble like awkward syllable dances
Night is especially prone to this phenomenon, morning is clueless
Friends don't know so empathy is dry
Care to listen to ramblings of the dead come alive, print on a page
Even if I'm denied of that, they never could make me feel less than every feeling compounded

-cj

Morals clung to me and nipped at my shoulders more than I held onto them
Perhaps what is good and what is bad is undefined, at least in my little mind
He told me a bible on the ground was bad luck, and I laughed and squinted at pretend omens
Do you believe that, I asked when he muttered, in the beginning god created the heavens and the earth
I don't know, he said, and we knew that we both didn't particularly want to

-cj

Treat me like you would your fingernails
Bite me without pause, a nervous, natural cause
Let me peel your fruit's skin, tear its precious flesh
Study me often, even when there are prettier sights to see
Press me into you when there's that itch
I become ***** and sharp, but you know how to fix me
Put me up to your head and run me through your hair
Attached to your hands, a naughty awakening you can't escape

-cj

whether or not we fall asleep in your bed
won't cure nor break this
but how sweet it would be
to share the sheets, rest our minds, quicken our hearts
because it's safer to be tucked away
unscrutinised
the ceiling sees us, we see each other
it all feels right
as we sleep questionless and answerless

-cj

Who knew one could rhyme with such ease
Surely the timing was merely a tease
To plot, to spot, to tumble down the parts, a feeling of locked up spirits and twisted smarts
If this is rocket science, hand me a pen, for a career in the space field I must sign to again

-cj

What can we expect but to be hurt by love
After all, that which is good must end badly
A truly terrible law
So run from the one who makes you go weak
It will save you time and give you mystique

-cj