ANXIETY

why is this the only thing i can think (feel) now?
please make my words come naturally again

"blood
dark
tongue
***
****
bones
eyes
teeth"

my favorite words are swimming in my brain
& refuse to coagulate

they stick like glue to the roof of my mouth
& i can't seem to spit them out
flashes of nonsense recycled:

"BROKEN TEETH
secondhand smoke
i wAnt tO BREAK you
weightless in the dark"

my own fragmented reality
protecting my soft underbelly

anxiety breeds cowardice
or maybe they are just synonyms

either way all I can think (feel) is
*******

Will you let me
Read your scars
     And revise them?*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I lay in bed with writers block.
I don't know what to do when I can't write. I don't know what to do.

I lay in bed with writers block, and I down another sleeping pill. what to do when I can't sleep. I don't know what to do.

I lay on bed with writers block, loopy from the sleeping pills, and I think of the way our skin touched when we first met. I don't know what to do without you. I don't know what to do.

I lay in bed with writers block, loopy from the sleeping pills, thinking of the way our skin touched when we first met, and I feel a warm tear run down my cheek. Warm like the hug we exchanged. I don't know what to do when I miss you. I don't know what to do.

I lay in bed with writers block, loopy from the sleeping pills, thinking of the way our skin touched when we first met, a river of warm tears flowing my tear ducts, like having multiple warm hugs on my cheek, and I think about how you inspire me. I don't know what to do when you're my muse, except write about you.

Train Time
Like it's a young elephant,
     Beast of burden!*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Poetry's for all,
So may it come, too,
     From all.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

We may have forgotten
Some memories,
     But we cannot
          Unlove.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

You flirt with me, not my feelings.
My heart knows what it practice full well.
It deceives all including itself—
An ocean, a serpent, a sly moon.

You flirt with me, I think, and my body says so.
My hormones, bubbling to the brim.
I pull your waist and not your hand, your curved
Waist, and you should notice that.

My love does not go where the body goes,
It is spirit. And should you open yours
To me, we will know what it is
To be one, to be omitted to the known world.

If my hands camp over your body,
Know, that it is by our doing,
And it tears my being into pieces,
Exposing itself to a great misery—

Parts of it, in agony, in ecstasy,
Sleeping by the supple, and the subtlety,
Burning with the shadows, weeping
Bitterly over losing me.

But when I love, love, I use my soul,
The stars will attest to that.
If I lie, I lie with the world,
And if I should, it would be poetry,
It would be true.

So wait for me, for I love you.
And I am coming for you,
So wait for me.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Looking at her eyes,
Her eyelids must be
     New galaxies.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

To embrace her
Is to be dandled
     At her lap.*

© 2015 J.S.P.