My mind is occupied by you --
    you're always there, awaiting the dark nighttime to stir.
Flashes of your smile appear behind my eyes when they close.
Visions of your eyes haunt my thoughts.
Memories of your voice, reading your poems aloud...

I can't seem to focus anymore.
All I can ever think about is you.

    You've become quite the distraction.

But hey, who's complaining?

I.
Sometimes drunken flowers are placed between books and
his lips are clamped shut
while i walk past trashcans and find letters
buried,
like his bones
with forced smiles carved upon each and every one
hands reaching out, grabbing
i could feel its yearning
from a mile away
and i shut my ears and clench my eyes
i can't stand the feeling twice.

II.
My soul was shot;
i later burned it with matchsticks and clouds
sand pricked my feet
as i sit for hours on end at gas stations and sidewalks
lamps were never lit in my house and
i was left
among the darkness.
i never saw you behind the trigger.

III.
I don't trust the black and blue hue
growing on my chest;
they say its from my heart.
I laugh them away and
tune out the rest.
"I have no heart, you made sure of that."
emotions i used to scorn and
cringe at
appear on paper and skin as words
that looked like my
splintered bones and
broken footsteps.

can i talk about the time when scarecrows were making torches and chairs
or will someone realise that i'm talking to thin air?©

fragments of that lifetime ago
the sun low to the end day horizon
and my childhood companions shouting
and laughter
the intense feel scent of fresh cut grass
the long shadows garden gate
spiders web and the shell of
brick doorway
the long path with its tangled trees
what man tread there
what past tread through this dark wood
mesmerized by the burnt ruin
captured by the tale
i would stand in that doorway
and ask for her hand
i would ride in the brisk sun
a child no more
free of the things that bound me to that place
were it that i could go back
undo all wrought
but standing here in the sea and sand
i pray that i finally have come home

her bracelets sparkle in the rain
as she runs for the overhang
laughing she shouts her joys to the skies
as he holds her out to the falling waters
laughing with such delights
two young lovers pass me without seeing
too into seeing just eachother
too into the warmth of her hand in his
the three of us go onto the road
she leans over to me offering her smile like a band-aid
the world appears to hang round my jester neck
and its corporate sponsors all have prepared speeches
which they ****** at me with such desperately eager hands
the words they want me to say are verbal fists
for the beating of men
for the night to rationalize the dark things it dose
i call out that i'm a child of dawn
but a voice only bitter says softly they haven't got a choice
everyone else has gone away or
are mute to the venereal disease known to be spoken here
i weep for this terrible turn of events
till she comes to rescue me
with a king james in one hand
and an oxford standard in the other
never knew the girl had such fire in her
thouse sweet eyes will fool ya everytime
she is holding his hand but its my song she's singing
and id really like to know what that means
but the only clue just walked home
in a winter rain

touching
it seems as if my
fingers want more-
the gasping of air
the act of clenching tighter and tighter
the need to feel something other than
the pain that rests inside
baby, just let it all pour out

don't think about the others
think of what feels right.
is it the lips on your thighs
the fingers that wriggle through your hair
or the eyes that stare deep into your soul?

what about the sweet kisses
that i want to give you
and the flowers and chocolate
or maybe even the looks across the hall that
make you just so excited (you know in what way...)

i'd do anything for you.
but am i really ready to
know someone in that way?

the coffee in my hand
has got me wired but
i'm running on
nostalgia and
a lack of motivation
it's been snowing for
the past five days
and the shower
is never hot enough
to shake the cold
from my tired veins
my hands are shivering
through the sleeves
of an old sweatshirt
and i'm looking into
the sky with the same
longing in my eyes
you get when you
have to say goodbye
i don't know what it is
i'm missing anymore,
i just always have this
pit in my stomach
like i'm forgetting something
and i need to get away from here