things were going too fast.
it was too easy to open my eyes
roll out of bed as to not wake him,
make breakfast and wait for him to
wake up to the smell.
it was terrifying.
i couldn't avoid the possibility
that things were going so fast that
the impending break up was approaching
that when i hit the brick wall
at the end of the speedway,
my guts would splatter on impact
and he would escape unscathed.
and it is certain, as certain as wisps of hope and grey smoky prayers can be
that although distance clambers before us, the moon as i see it is the same for you
the days and the nights and the schedules – to hell with them
for all i know we are breathing together, we are inhaling and exhaling as one
two bodies, as one in our mind’s eye
and i cannot help but to feel over every pore what it feels like when your hand flattens against my neck
it burns through my skin even as i sit here, eyes closed to a bright sphere which passed your vision hours earlier
i shudder as the sweet burn runs through me like honey straight from the jar
sugar travels fast and far, on the backs of trillions of ants like stars splayed across the earth
and the earth is just a canvas where we paint our struggles
though i hum at the bursting sparkles above many atmospheres
they do not keep an account of the way your tongue creeps past your lips and onto mine
only the earth knows the way our gaits come together and our bodies exist at the same level
stretched out between us, from one son’s antennae to another’s
the Queen entertains stories of those eyes that i miss, thick black crescents soft against my face
things immeasurable, things untold, things i do not own
you only share these with me but my access to the feelings they leave behind is limitless
the distances i would travel for you to remind me of what i already know, is something the moon understands
despite all else
it is heavy and slow but it always returns, waiting for the inevitable yet dynamic
if you tell me tomorrow what i want to hear today, i’ll get your message on time
just whisper it with those rosy lips of yours and my ears will open their arms to you
better yet, scream you love me into the quiet night sky and the sun will vibrate, causing the moon to chuckle
the ants will find me first
i sit here and i echo
i love you i love you i need you i’m with you i crave you every breath
until we breathe no longer i’ll say it and i’ll listen
we only speak it in breaths apart
i want those words, oh how i need to hear them in person
and i’ll swim oceans and levitate just to hear you again
tell me what i already know
i’m listening with my lungs
What if I needed
For you to simply glance my way..?
Would it validate my existence?
Make the invisibility cloak start to
What if it was essential
To communicate your thoughts and
Would it make me less mechanical
And find a way to allow the tears?
What if it was vital
To not dash and dine behind closed
I wonder if that adjustment
Makes for serene and calming shores?
What if letting go of the toxic
Is an integral part of growth?
Does that lead to a sense of
Not being afraid of the things
What if touch was necessary?
A hug to make it all go away...
Would the craving for what was lost
Be an obscurity that was never in the
What if ALL the "What If's"
Bring light to just one truth?
Would I welcome in the contentment
Had I been nurtured in feeling loved
I watch as my life breaks into more and more pieces,
I try to glue it back together but it only brakes further,
And as I watch it break I also see it starts to burn and go up in flames,
I try to cling on to every last bit,
I inhale the smoke only to realize that it’s gone and I’m on my own,
Alone with the bitter taste in my mouth from the smoke,
It's the black and white memories,
the one's that we all try to hide,
but the more that's blocked, the more you see,
and you can't erase what's inside.
She tells her story, and it's heartbreaking,
while you say sorry you're both shaking,
you tell yourself this is real, but you're really feeling numb,
that's how you always feel when you're at Don's Plum.
She tells her fears to quiet mirrors,
and expresses her sadness and stress.
Through all the tears she prays someone hears her,
because it's gotten to madness and she's become a mess.
In the booth you're all laughing, sharing the old jokes,
but the cigarette smoke is masking your instinct to choke.
You think you're made of steel, but you know you're just scum,
that's how you always feel when you're at Don's Plum.
Every song you hear is nostalgic,
and it brings a smile to your face,
within the whispers is a hint of magic,
but the topics are lacking charm and grace.
And every soul that wanders in, is worse when they're outside,
for everyone is born of sin, but we sure all seem satisfied.
She tells you her story, and it's heartbreaking,
it all came before me and the choices I'm making.
You've lost track of how to deal, you say the issues are dumb,
and that's how you always feel when you're at Don's Plum.
Your smiles are as bright as the sun in the middle of the day
Your laughters as beautiful as the soft sound of wind chimes dancing in the breeze
Your eyes as clear as the twinkling stars that laden the black night sky
Your cheeks as red as newly bloomed crimson roses
And I chase you
Your cries are as beautiful as the howling of lone wolves under the full moon night
Your groans as deep as the guttural growl of a wild animal in the forest
Your tears as salty as the crystal clear ocean water
Your pleas as beautiful as the music of an orchestra playing through the night
And I want to own you
Your soft breathes are as still as the calm waters of a mountain spring
Your pale skin as white as the thick snow after a storm
Your voice as faint as the flutter of a butterfly's wings
Your wounds and bruises as beautiful as an art painted on an empty canvass
And without meaning to
I killed you