Sometimes I want to float out my bedroom window;
Past the unkept yellow bungalow,
Past the fir trees and the winter carcasses of rose bushes,
Past all the street lamps and their glow.
It's time to go.
I feel tired and torn and the soles of my shoes are worn.

Everything just passes me by
People, hope and opportunity, no matter how I try
The focus of my life is not to focus on the past
And it all goes by so fast

I'm stuck here in my room, on my bed
Reminiscing over things, trapped inside my head
Like this is where I'm at now, no doubt
I've got so much more to do

Way too much to lose, way too young to cruise
Should be getting out more often but I don't wanna bruise
The backlash of my actions, intended or not
Is not something that I've forgot

Not something I can forget
Because I'm not done just yet
I got things to do, much to lose
Now is not the time for me to cruise

When your a child your mum says
"Time out!" And "Go to your room!"

But when your a teenager she says
"Get out of your room you need some time out!"

I sink into my bed,
laying in Limbo,
comfortably cold
and detached.
Your essence roams back and forth,
pacing
between my ears.
I taste the residue
of your monotone voice,
salivating at the thought of
you.
Our nights were simply
unforgettable.
We watched the clouds
blend into the sky,
as the rich colors became
beautifully distorted;
I swear they breathed.
I gently touched your
empty chest...
As it rose and fell,
The scenery above us
expanded infinitely.
Our laughs
resembled bonded youth,
forming together
like an orchestra of splendor.

I desperately try to relive this feeling,
our captivating high.
It disintegrated.
You have melted away
and life is somber.
you have become a bland figure
without a face.
You have become the static
Of a television in the silence
of an apocalypse.
You hide within irrelevance...
but the way you once moved,
so gracefully,
so insanely,
will remain Imprinted
in my loveless mind.


© 2016 D.M.V

He was always warm
Like his coffee colored skin
His smiled hugged you
Brought you into submission
Until your bones wrapped under his
I'd play with the outlines of his anatomy
The way his muscles protruded
And relaxed when my fingers traced his
His laugh echoed like violins
Symphonies playing wildly in my ears
And when I'd undress
He'd always stare
Singing how he won a master piece
That was only his
And no one else's to share
The summer heat burned us
Yet only the summer knew
The conversations that filled that room
He held a scar on his chest
I'd kiss it everyday to remind him how beautiful pain is.
The way his hair curled
And felt like silk when I'd run through it
The way I'd look down and kiss him
The world stopped
But so did the day he left
And like a VCR
I hit replay
A memory so vivid
Yet fading each and everyday

I want the poetry to mean something tonight,
              as I pace in my bedroom for hours
                                      under jaundiced fluorescent light.

                     I want to write something profound and true,
something of solvence to rid the demons to which I'm glued.