different promises for the same vows

do we have to die in order to have lived

i cried a tale
a feverish tale

of demons on tables and babies in glasses

of faces on floors
and portraits of lovers etched on doors

of gap-toothed beggars with golden teeth

of priests bending over with no god to please

i sang and sang
of bodiless faces

faces that went to faraway places
(i lost five tears to a man with four faces)

i sang and sang
of a princess with no womb
who ran to a juliet
buried deep in a tomb

when we reminisce about our childhoods
we laugh at the lies
the kind of lies we don't fully regret
but there is one lie that is just too cruel for me to forget
it wasn't curiousity  that killed the cat
it was the hand that trapped it in an airtight bag

and in your darkness i found my old night light

i've measured
the highway to your heart
in the tears from my arms
and the calluses on my feet

our kind of love story was
dysfunctional
physical
we pretended it was theatrical
but it certainly had the deception
that shakespeare constantly feared

on the surface of my skin
i'd love to see bones
but they weigh me in boulders
not in stones
(n.n.)

and so i'll drown myself in words so shallow
to find my bones cracking the ground
because either way
it feels the same
i can't drown in you
(n.n.)

i think of the people who have no homes
they sleep to shiver alone
pretentiously i am just like them
for your arms are home
i am not home
(n.n.)

watch the coffee drip
drip
       by
           drip

watch the kingdoms feast
on dust of blood that has spilled

watch the rust eat
the limbs of warriors who weep

watch the shadows creep
creep
         and
                creep

when you look at me
what will you see
will you see a queen
or an empty shell of no sleep
will you see the phases of the moon
that sing you to sleep - the voices that croon
when you look at me
what will you see
all i hope for
is that you don't see the world
the way you see me
(n.n.)

how foolish was she
to flourish in flames
and dance with swans
who had masks as names

and i yelled at god
to strike me with lightning
show me the lust
of his bittersweet thunder

but he showered me with tea leaves
and that was the greatest blow
for the leaves that rained onto my hair
could be no gentler than my greatest foe
who took you away
six feet under
(and you're there to stay)

(n.n.)

shall we let
the morning glories sing
praises from the hymns
of lovebirds
who once counted the holes in the ground
at the bottom of a hill
(n.n.)

Never forget a child's first play
It is a mirror - it is the only gate
So clear to
See love in a child's simple ways
And forget the love for which you pay
(n.n.)