are fingers really tied
together
with red string?
and would you really listen
if i
tried to speak?

coughing up promises
i can never keep.
focusing on blue irises
that always weep.

not for me
and not for you
but for the scars
between us

I was so tired and frayed.
    I wondered what moon you saw from that distant planet.
    Outer space caused a great famine
    Did you allow your lungs to love
    An ounce of it if any, love.

Define our love in a sentimental mood.
A gravitational pull that holds my hand.
    Exceptions where we let go to kiss the sun. We fall down around 12 to 1.
    Coming back, warm in our commotion of fantasies. We spoke our mind telepathically.

  You were so tired and frayed.
    You wondered what moon I saw from that distant planet.
    Outer space caused a great famine
    Did I allow my lungs to love
    An ounce of it if any, love?

Remember high tides in October?  dressed up lovers, bittersweet contour? two mirrors colliding.  
    We became a downward spiral till we couldn’t call ‘us’ anymore.
    No matter how much I see it, it’s just you and me but not the way it used to be.

We were so tired and frayed.
    We wondered what moon we saw from that distant planet of ours.
    Outer space caused a great famine in thought..
    ..The in-between which we could not meet made it hard.
    We loved with every crevice of our body but with the last drop there was nothing to breathe from.
An ounce of it if any.

See me in the mirror
I have aged
The same, but different
I feel that I am here
I see that he is not
As time passes, again I will stare
But I will not be there
I see that he will

"That outfit doesn't suit you" says the impeccably dressed
"Your back is breaking out" says the clear skinned
"You are actually really really dumb" says the complex thinker
"****, those teeth are yellow, you should brush more" says the one who does
"What **** chat, you're not clever" says the quick witted
"Look at those chicken legs!" says the one who squats
"Why can't you manage your emotions?" asks the one who's matured
"Stop watching **** and get a girlfriend" says the one who has a girlfriend
"Clean your ******* room" says the one from his organized bedroom
"Stop smoking, it's not healthy" says the one who doesn't need to
"You have to stop skipping meals" says the one who isn't nauseous
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, it isn't attractive" says the happy one
"You're not a bad person" says the good one
"Let people love you, but also let them not love you too" says the brave one
"You've got to stop procrastinating" says the one on time
"Write things down, make good habits" that one remembers
"You shouldn't hate yourself, forgive and grow" this one I like least
"You are really awfully dumb" this one repeats himself the most
"You're so dull" says the one who isn't
"I hate you" says the one who tells the truth
"You could be what ever you want if you stopped listening to all of us" says the one who I barely hear
"We're not us, we're you" says the one who's truth is the hardest to hear

A repeating line of patterns of something deeper then memory
It's the motion of waves of wonder of maybe something like pain
A wanting to lessen to soften to gently lay my head down
It's not what's happening now

Abandoned in the middle of the blasted field,
its arms shredded, legs battered,
the chair exists in broken splendor
catching the best of the speckled light
dancing in the quivering shadows.
Lines of the seated father stain the backrest,
motherly molds are left behind in the seat foam,
the relentless kicks, tattoos of children’s feet
bruise the red velvet of the front rail.

At dawn, pulses of light run along its rails
dispersing all shadows to the wet ground.
At the speed of forgetfulness
two robins alight on this storm orphan,
widow, widower, this sole survivor,
with twigs to build a new stick home.

Morning sun awoken slumber
Now a nightmare truly begins
Dreams becoming the hunted
Obstacles daily in-cumbered

Pushing through treacherous hurdles
Morning sun awoken slumber
Shedding all unwarranted burdens
whispering failures a cumber

Self worth in a constant wonder
Searching for all the fading stars
Morning sun awoken slumber
All failure singed within memoirs

To learn from all life's mistakes
Not to be another number
Happiness at times we must fake
Morning sun awoken slumber

I saw you glide around the basketball court today like the floor was made of freshly polished glass.
You didn't falter once.
You slid as easily as ball bearings across an endless marble table.
Circling & spinning & swaying & twirling.
Your dress was polka dot.
It whipped sharply in the wind.
I watched you skate until you rolled away, onto a gravel path.
Although your absence was as silent as the drifting of your blades,
As the sky went dark, I really wished you would have stayed.