Shake me to my core
because buildings cannot withstand this earthquake
and I won't fight it
anymore.
The cigarette filters on the second floors don't fight me
anymore. (Oh, how I would love to be the cigarette between your lips!) Because
I have given up
on cleaning myself up
because I am lost.

I have a headache
I can feel my temple shaking
Like my brain had an earthquake
shaking all my thoughts free

It can't be fought
The drowning bang of dreams and doubt
A never-ending thumping on the door
All dying to get out

And even after the earthquake stops
And all these thoughts are gone
I begin the tedious task
Of fixing the damage done

But I can still see the cracks
The damage had gone to far
And no amount of time will heal it

So I'll pretend, I'll be a fake
At least until the next headache

My heart pumps with a loudness that makes me want to step back when you stand close because you are a mini earthquake and I'm still rebuilding from the time you listened to me when I had nothing to say.*

                                                                                            j.g

You are an
Earthquake,
Powerful and sudden.
No one
Saw you coming,
Certainly not I.
You came
Quickly
And tore me apart,
Into many
Different people.
All hurt and broken,
But one never like
The others.
And now,
We all wander around,
Trying to find out
Who we really are.

It starts like an earthquake underneath my head.
        Three quick shakes,
              A pause,
                      Then three more.
        Air bursts from her pouted lips
And I run a comforting palm up and down her side.
       "Shhh," I whisper into the skin of her neck
                               So she knows
                               That I know
              That her tears speak for us both.