She would take it down
       on old crumpled receipts—
imprisoned at the bottom of 

                           her bag.

Each laid to crooked rest next to
questionable crumbs of mystery
and a pen that leaked its
                    remaining potential
into scattered
Morse code all over
cheaply sewn lining.

The saving grace
of these little       ragtag proofs
allowed her to
relive the moment
when his singing voice
brought all of her
dizzy moth thoughts
                   to a stand still.

With each coo, he
pulled on all of the right strings,
and all of the right curves
on her body                 turned up
in all of the right places.

     Once again she
danced a smile with her eyes
and rolled her hips with her tongue
like she never
   forgot how.

There are always ways to improve,
Who you really are.
You don't have to always be the same,
To shine just like a star.

You can reinvent yourself,
In more ways than one.
But the changes you are making,
Will never be done.

Your personally changes,
Each day that you grow older.
As long as you try your best,
You can destroy your problems like a bolder.

So try and reinvent yourself,
And change yourself for the better.
It will help you find yourself along the way.
And you can be your own trendsetter.

everything is present tense now,
you, me, them, us, standing
crying, laughing, creating
me, thinking of things to say,
but now i won’t bite my tongue
(at least, not as much)
and now i’ll hope that i can forgive myself
for being open
“why would you feel guilty about your own happiness?”
a **** good question, the answer to which
is one long scream of
BECAUSE I ALWAYS HAVE AND I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ELSE
over and over again until even the void of the night sky
screams it back at me
(i can find perseus now, and taurus,
but cassiopeia is still my broken queen,
and i still see my eyes reflected in the seven sisters)
i hope i can forgive myself
for not selling myself short anymore,
for keeping my own heart warm,
for not pretending to be a Me i no longer believe in
(she deserves better!!!! i yell at myself)
(she always did!!!!! i yell back)

No point in chasing me for my money,
It found a red tide, isn't that funny,
No point in chasing me for my time,
Spend it all doing prose and rhyme,

No point in getting into my flesh,
I might be confused and think it a test,
No point in cheering me up and on,
It might leave you feeling put upon,

No point in breaking down these unfeeling fortress walls,
You won't find me, getting lost by the sounds, the echoes, along halls,
No point in remembering
landmarks on my skin and the bend of my joints,
You won't know where I have gone,
which one of 360 degree compass points,

Experience the ocean,
Scent the wind,
and throw my ashes there,
for when you find me,

My arms open wide, my hands too,
were painting pictures on the sky,
of me and you,

It will be at the end of my journey,
Failures outnumber successes,
I gave up and gave in.

Slowly taking notes
To develop my futher plan
Into my life
So I can come out of the floodgates
And expect to reinvent the basics

Maybe you died
Cause everyone's asking where you are
I feel bad cause
I took away their shining star
The innocent girl
Who used to pray hard
Replaced her with a devil
To play her part

I tried to channel you
In hopes that I could steer you back
But then that just reminds me
Of all the qualities you had
That I lack.
I'm not happy anymore
Just really sad
I don't wear any other colours
Except black
Cause I'm just a widow
At your funeral and you're dead
And the fact that I killed you
Leaves me with a heavy chest

And looking back I see
That I didn't treat you great
But through all of that
I still wish you stayed
And I hope you're still alive
But just took a break
Cause without you
I'm a jar of memories and hate

I miss you cause
You were the best I ever had
So dear old me
Please come back.

Writer’s block is the misplaced brick in one’s conceptual “university”.

© Matthew Harlovic