In response to: Please Don't Put Down Your Pen

You may live by drinking the words,
But I thrive on writing the words.
Perhaps "Please Don't Put Down Your Pen" was written in response to my works, but more than likely, it wasn't.
I live off of the written word.
It is my bread and my wine, my world away from the world.
But I have put down my pen.
Returned it to its rightful place,
The navy blue, leather coated, velvet sleeping place of my works.

I have put down my pen.
My pen has been put down.
Euthanized it.
Comatose in its leather casket.

If you cannot see from my eyes the truth, the love I feel
If you cannot see from them what my heart says
How come you've taught me they are the window to my soul?
How come I've seen from yours the love you have for me?
How come you don't know? Why can't you see?
Are your eyes blind or they're the ones that lie*?

I have this tendency
Of wanting to be loved most
By those who do not see me
For rejection never hurts that much
When we could have seen it coming.



*But I can see you
All of you
From your nervous giggles
To your restless heart
And I won't stop staring
Until you feel my love and
Accept it all at once.
You will never see it coming.

If you were a coloring book,
I would be mad,
That after opening the cover,
There's no spaces left for me to color.

If you were water,
I would freeze you,
Immobile,
And gently stroke my fingers across your surface.

If you were wooden,
You'd be the finest sculpture,
That I would burn with every touch in every crease,
And leave ashen.

If you were an egg,
I'd take the utmost care to not drop you,
And the only place I would break your shell,
Is at the bottom where I'd fit perfectly.

If you were a string,
I'd tie you up tightly around me,
So that you could never leave me,
And I could always feel you on my skin.

If you were lava,
I would gladly burn off my flesh,
And I wouldn't hesitate to go inside you,
Because I'm used to feeling you down to my bones.

darling, it's all a matter of
perception
how you see it

looking out from
parallel shores
we are glimpses
of more
in the distance
strangers to
burnt-out street lamps
and burnt-out sweethearts

darling
it's all a matter of
persepshun
how you feel it

vibrate in your
fingertips
dance upon your
skin with needlepoint
toes
bells resonating
in your ears,
a troubled storm abrew

darling, it's all a matter of
pearshipshon
how you taste it

another glass, more
*****, please
another burning trail
down your throat
the only kind
of warmth
we know

darling,
*it's all a matter of per-cep-tion

noose**
The necklace is pretty
These bindings about my neck
As strong as the ties of the family
Who keep me in line

Noose
If I dared let it slip,
I can't,
I mustn't,
I cannot risk causing explicit trauma,
to those who care enough,
who try with all their might no matter how rough to free me,
from this indefinite strain,
and despite these bruises I promise to try my hardest,
I will not let my thoughts,
collapse.
Regardless of every wave of panic that ripples itself through my nervous system and leaves me void of breath,
I promise to try my hardest,
I will not let my framework snap.**

I'll try.


This necklace is too pretty to surrender.

We are intertwined
an intricate braid of
capillaries and veins,
arteries pumping blood
two heartbeats at
a time

This is not
Fate not a universal
design destiny has
no place along
our twists and
turns

We are unique
shards of broken galaxies
fallen to the earth
No two stars
are the same

But our trail
will light the skies
Distinct, Contrasting
Blues and Reds
woven into the fabric
of an unravelling world