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"dizzily" poems
nearer:breath of my breath:take not they tingling limbs from me:make my pain their crazy meal letting they tigers of smooth sweetness steal slowly in dumb blossoms of new mingling: deeper:blood of my blood:with upwardcringing swiftness plunge these leopards of white ream this pith of darkness:carve an evilfringing flower of madness on gritted lips and on sprawled eyes squirming with light insane chisel the killing flame that dizzily grips. Querying greys between mouthed houses curl thirstily. Dead stars stink. dawn. Inane, the poetic carcass of a girl
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Nearer:Breath Of My Breath:Take Not They Tingling
It was the time of summer where every kid had silently realized that it was ending, No longer halfway through, no longer half full Leaking and spilling out, like the gas in my twenty two year old car We couldn’t stop it, And the moments of high school summertime The moments that supposedly turn into stories we tell forever Hadn’t seemed to have happened. Both of us on the swing lazily swung Dizzily from side to side. Climbing forward, falling in reverse Our combined bodyweight shifting back and forth Tanned legs kicking up in an attempt at unison on every backwards glide. Gravity hung us there, Pulling the swing toward the ground no matter the rotation. I sat on top. I wore bleached shorts and bleached hair. I worried that gravity or more so my value to it would crush him. At the same time, I felt unbelievably small. The air pressed in on me from all angles, it touched my bare legs it easily waffled my shirt. “Mel, if you were squishing me, I would let you know”, he assured with a cocky tone of his very own that somehow made me feel special. I couldn’t help but think he was only trying to be tough Attempting to let sheer willpower overweigh my well earned quads, My six foot frame. The awkward body I never quite grew into Never knew how to masterfully control Never knew how to fill. Though I secretly (wanted to) truly believe him On this humid night I felt like the ball was in my court, Like I could do anything and everything. That nothing could go wrong That the boy that I was sitting on was genuine And that I could simply drive off to wherever. (I had a full tank of gas and enough money to get me to Alabama). I felt small in this, in this infinity of possibility all around me. Like a weight was pushing into me Putting on pressure that couldn’t be ignored That shrunk me just enough. I felt powerless to fate Powerless to this planet To this grand, glorified hunk of earth which was so much greater than me (and surely my insignificant weight anxieties). I felt like the gas was leaking out faster than I could use it. I felt like my infinity was disappearing as I swung within it. Just like that, I let the ball drop and the gas leak out. We just kept swinging. Laughing, Wasting, Talking, Dying.
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Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 10:16 PM UTC
Swingset
It was the time of summer where every kid had silently realized that it was ending, No longer halfway through, no longer half full Leaking and spilling out, like the gas in my twenty two year old car We couldn’t stop it, And the moments of high school summertime The moments that supposedly turn into stories we tell forever Hadn’t seemed to have happened. Both of us on the swing lazily swung Dizzily from side to side. Climbing forward, falling in reverse Our combined bodyweight shifting back and forth Tanned legs kicking up in an attempt at unison on every backwards glide. Gravity hung us there, Pulling the swing toward the ground no matter the rotation. I sat on top. I wore bleached shorts and bleached hair. I worried that gravity or more so my value to it would crush him. At the same time, I felt unbelievably small. The air pressed in on me from all angles, it touched my bare legs it easily waffled my shirt. “Mel, if you were squishing me, I would let you know”, he assured with a cocky tone of his very own that somehow made me feel special. I couldn’t help but think he was only trying to be tough Attempting to let sheer willpower overweigh my well earned quads, My six foot frame. The awkward body I never quite grew into Never knew how to masterfully control Never knew how to fill. Though I secretly (wanted to) truly believe him On this humid night I felt like the ball was in my court, Like I could do anything and everything. That nothing could go wrong That the boy that I was sitting on was genuine And that I could simply drive off to wherever. (I had a full tank of gas and enough money to get me to Alabama). I felt small in this, in this infinity of possibility all around me. Like a weight was pushing into me Putting on pressure that couldn’t be ignored That shrunk me just enough. I felt powerless to fate Powerless to this planet To this grand, glorified hunk of earth which was so much greater than me (and surely my insignificant weight anxieties). I felt like the gas was leaking out faster than I could use it. I felt like my infinity was disappearing as I swung within it. Just like that, I let the ball drop and the gas leak out. We just kept swinging. Laughing, Wasting, Talking, Dying.
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rescinding messages of longing and lust cast off to the wind like a broken record skittering, twisting down the street in early morn' your laying to rest your tired conscience on me like one of those lovers in a movie theater brushed off like salt on a shoulder twirled like a young girls hair mid flirtation giggle i think we're dancing in the streets now scuffing shoes against concrete mind-melding as we soft shoe across the yellow lines i'm kicking you to the curb like a rock into a gutter your blowing through me like a chilled breeze shuffling past me hurriedly to another time like a scarf mid swing o're a cold shoulder i turn 'round swiftly to meet you dizzily.
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Oct 20, 2010
Oct 20, 2010 at 6:09 PM UTC
street dancing
Control Like love Is indifferent To race, color or age I see upright monkeys With honed, lunatic, pestilent Expressions Around endless corners living out- and hosing down somberly- Frequency dreams Battery life sputter drains that whip with sardonic torment- Beat with blood-bathed smiles Laughing to slow vertiginous rhythm in captivating faces Take, take, take- To receive such an empty promise And I've lost interest in this silent war We've constructed so dizzily
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Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
Batteries and Careers
l{one}l{I}ness hurts like one e   m   p   t   y cup of coffee while another sits cold in the late afternoon light full and a little bitter like your stomach it stings like too much wine -- or ***** against chapped lips at 10:45p.m. finding a ****** wrapper under your bed of trapped in the corners of your sheets or cigarette cherries falling onto fuzzy knee caps while Johny Cash sings you into drunken sleep al{one} at 11:30 p.m. it throbs like heads and unanswered text messages and bruises on your knees the day after blinking dizzily into grey-morning-afternoon-night waking up in a single bed when the fires have gone out makeup is smeared and you realize you forgot to put on socks it feels like that look on your face when calls go unanswered and pretty lingerie makes your skin look bruised when a dress meant for a party lies crumpled in the corner of your bed or your bathroom damp and wrinkled from showers taken at 3.am. to burn out the lonely that clings like your hands in his when you stop being alone or like perfume on a black tee-shirt that you borrowed months ago it is comforting like cheap coffee and relaxed smiles of an entire box of off-brand reeses cocoa puffs with almond milk of the taste of peach cigarillos it is sweet like sweet red and dark chocolate on a tuesday night when you are in your underwear or like listening to sad music while shaving your legs and buying a bottle of nail polish because of the pun in the name on its bottom it is also addicting like the smell of their sweat or seeing their car parked at the gas station and holding your breath to see them or counting the ******* band stickers on their bumper to the beats of your heart untill the lights turn green it is like listening to ingrid michaelson in a cold car or sitting in a cheap orange chair in a coffeeshop by yourself. it is like drinking a bottle of wine before 5 p.m. or watching the sun rise over naked january trees when you haven't slept the night before or the night before that or the night before or the night before
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Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
insomnia
l{one}l{I}ness hurts like one e   m   p   t   y cup of coffee while another sits cold in the late afternoon light full and a little bitter like your stomach it stings like too much wine -- or ***** against chapped lips at 10:45p.m. finding a ****** wrapper under your bed of trapped in the corners of your sheets or cigarette cherries falling onto fuzzy knee caps while Johny Cash sings you into drunken sleep al{one} at 11:30 p.m. it throbs like heads and unanswered text messages and bruises on your knees the day after blinking dizzily into grey-morning-afternoon-night waking up in a single bed when the fires have gone out makeup is smeared and you realize you forgot to put on socks it feels like that look on your face when calls go unanswered and pretty lingerie makes your skin look bruised when a dress meant for a party lies crumpled in the corner of your bed or your bathroom damp and wrinkled from showers taken at 3.am. to burn out the lonely that clings like your hands in his when you stop being alone or like perfume on a black tee-shirt that you borrowed months ago it is comforting like cheap coffee and relaxed smiles of an entire box of off-brand reeses cocoa puffs with almond milk of the taste of peach cigarillos it is sweet like sweet red and dark chocolate on a tuesday night when you are in your underwear or like listening to sad music while shaving your legs and buying a bottle of nail polish because of the pun in the name on its bottom it is also addicting like the smell of their sweat or seeing their car parked at the gas station and holding your breath to see them or counting the ******* band stickers on their bumper to the beats of your heart untill the lights turn green it is like listening to ingrid michaelson in a cold car or sitting in a cheap orange chair in a coffeeshop by yourself. it is like drinking a bottle of wine before 5 p.m. or watching the sun rise over naked january trees when you haven't slept the night before or the night before that or the night before or the night before
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Acidic fury is exactly what I'm feeling, towards you. The tactics that you've caused me to go through are so painful I do not understand why you would be so untruthful. It's almost as if I am floating upon this drift that is full of words you had said in the sweetest of voices. "I love you." "You're my stars, my suns, my galaxies." I keep repeating these sentences thoroughly through-out my mind, every single night. Remembering the tone, the beat, the eye contact you had made. Trying to take in the truth, that it was always fake. Your undying ability to lie straight to my face, was so horrid. I am feeling betrayed as this 'Caraphernelia' settles in. I am unaware of the day when my memory of you will fade away. I hope it's soon. Your voice is still ringing in my ears as I am dizzily spinning around in my mind, Trying and trying to just get by this heart breaking of stages. If only it were easier to forget your name. Your name. I will not repeat. I do not want to say it, I will not cry screaming for you again. I cannot. There it is. The words that you had said to me. "I love you." "You are my stars, my suns, my galaxies." Now I'm crying. I keep repeating these sentences thoroughly through-out my mind, every single night. Remembering the tone, the beat, the eye contact you had made. Trying to take in the truth, that it was fake.
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Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
Those Feelings, Right?
there is some kindness in the way the earth is suspended on gravity's back. how it rotates on it's axis, bound by the sacred trust that space won't bottom out & shake us all from the earth like crumbs in the bed. there is little kindness in the way the earth is suspended in war, in turmoil; with handguns & machine guns & bombs strapped to civilians- tied to the greater majority with the intentions of a few. there is little kindness in fighting fire with fire- when our own backyards are burning & our neighbors are to blame. there is little kindness in the fear of what lies beneath a burka, a niqab, a turban- a police uniform, a trench coat or a white robe & a pointed white hood. there is little kindness in the terror that sleeps in the backs of our minds and sets up shop in our beds & lays low while we condemn the third world, the local news just confirms and confirms and confirms- we were killing each other first. there is little kindness in seeing humanity as this side of the border or that. the world is more of a revolving door that spins you dizzily & spits you back out. there is some kindness in the way gravity still holds the earth like some sick, sad science fair project; like some ****** consolation prize. humanity is a bed of crumbs clinging thanklessly to sheets.
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Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 4:48 AM UTC
crumbs in the bed.
Cardinal sun rose blooming as the budding flower. Buddha chants in the chimes of birds ethereal caught in gradual hot wind, Darjeeling tea steam rises on tabletop my mind is waking over Indonesian morning. Foreign babel as hours draw even cacophony of hurricane horns the Denpasar traffic drumming chorus midst markets where radio emitting Li Zengguang dizi dizzily prancing into the assortments of spice and coiling fabrics patterns potent azure and golden royalty brass clatter caged noise boiling *** cries the Orient! Overgrowth spots the charring temples in majesty and abundance cradling the narrow Balinese streets while tropic palm and orchid spring swells the soils. Ardent sun sheaths eastern archipelagos, religious offerings canvas sidewalks incense burning in overwhelming bouquets of efflorescence smelling daedal tapestries within the paradise. Sun goes on setting the jewel easing underneath the horizon, butterflies sway in rest hearts on fire the ceremonies have finished. Thunder shrieks against the sea torrential rain firing on villa ceilings. My eyes set to sleep consciousness transitioning between two dreams.
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Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Halycon
She's got roses in her hair And*** mud*** over her heels Her sun kissed skin shines As she dances in the meadow Her brash laughter sings Throughout the cornfield The breeze twirling her; dizzily As if in a ballroom; like a lover Eccentric is what she seems But really she's a girl A girl who is free To spend her days frolicking In nature's company
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 10:16 AM UTC
Nature's Company
Dressing the day, Beaming purely, on bankers Hours, spinning such fine, spine Wheel ways, painting the stones Of grey, never so faraway, showing Mighty, mirth in maddest Midgard, Bearing blooms dizzily, trailing All the new, children who play, Pick and count, humming with faces Bright as the late bedding stars Joyous in the offered cheers Of the crowning sun, gifts All, in endless amount.
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Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
Flower
a poem for the perturbed partially peeved marginally miffed indirectly disturbed not for those in love not for loss or for longing not for the haughty highbrow half hazardly happy saps that drown you in their dizzily delerious words about joy and wonder this poem is for the average joe joe sixpac joe normal kicked back, laid back ignoble informal working class pain in the *** foul mouthed, burnout college drop out that doesn't have two sweet words to rub together this poem is for me and you... if you want it.
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Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
average joe poem
*You're like a necessary drug Repeatedly pumping in my veins Occupying your borrowed space I embrace, I cage myself within Vowing never to drift out & in After the moment with you Stepping on your toes My feet are dizzily heaving Squeaky clean denim jeans Become filthy wet strings Even though I aim to please I just mess up these things*
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Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 7:35 PM UTC
Wet Jeans
Do you remember when love was uncomplicated Hand-holding, lonely fingers grasping, Longingly, perfecting their grip? And do you remember the honeymoon Highs, up and up, dizzily clambering up, Exploring new horizons? And do you remember, precisely, when love emerged, From clouds of chalked up experiences, Foreboding as a mountain, Where lonely fingers grasped, Longingly, for fresh hand-holds? The quest for loves summit rises, Peak to higher peak, Each conquered height unveiling a new vista, Revealing loves perilous truth, That each peak is surpassed by two more And the summit remains elusive. The fool will climb up and up, Leaving a devastated trail of overlooks, Ever unsated, Ever yearning, Ever lonely. The sage will make camp behind a large rock, Still aware of the mountains hidden presence, But settled with a lightness of heart, To enjoy just one wonderful view.
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Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 8:44 AM UTC
Quest For Love
Eight months limp in a guilty repose, Waking with no intent. Clouds eclipse the routine rooms, Societies dynamic continues directionless I spin dizzily within it, Cycle on high. my eyes hold their listless weight. But here ends the night, intermittent, Cease the unconscious days! Sun soon glazes the archaic temples, February becomes July.
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Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Damai (Prologue)
I'm surrounded by demons, butchers, and ****** menacing, chopping, and down on all fours. They're trying to take away what is rightfully mine; by enticing with goodies that are tasty and fine. My will is weakening, breaking, and now shattered; their voices cajole, promise, and flatter. Dizzily I stumble towards a celebratory fire; and happily climb to the top of my funeral pyre. The flames danced, engulfed, and burned my shell; a s the ancients danced, laughed, and dragged me to hell. My voice grew hoarse from the incessant screaming; as I tried to pinch myself as I knew I was dreaming. Now I'm surrounded by the wretched, weak, and insane; begging for a drink, ice, or a drop of cooling rain. Was it worth falling prey to all those earthly treasures? It depends on your definition of pain and pleasure . For I quite enjoy the brimstone, inferno, and heat; as the Devil chuckles, tortures, and eats ****** meat. A ********* I am, and a ********* I'll remain; I believe I've finally found my heavenly domain.
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
*********
I am a Woman: My skin melted in moonlight into grim of the darkness of night, My hair sewed a meadow’s wildflowers, That's how a woman created in me' with blood divine, I am a woman' strong and at the same time soft, I am more like a pure wine of heaven, Through dew, the spark of life arrowed in, Giving birth to the wildwood adored skin, Delphinium vivid petals of spring late, With flagrant red roses; coloring my lips, My eyes carry the dreams of poetry, hopes of songs, and music of joy, An existence where I would live with pure me, Where I would dance with my **** truths, Play the drama of mystery, And audience and stage all are for me, Gathered to listen to me, To see me play all drama and dance in between of drama, I wrought the hair of my drenched in the psalm, Enchanting with dark godly melodies of mine, Braiding light with sorrows that, there, were. The breeze from the voided air, To embroider something, while reciting a prayer, And dizzily, I fabricated a soul for the mud, I inhaled, in awe and feel the life, I am the words in a poem, ready to rhyme, Yes, I am a woman, Enough to feel the entire universe within the word of Woman, My light reflected on my broken pieces, The rays shaped a tree of wicked caprices, Where my fantasies grow, However, I am my own little beautiful creation, And this reality is my hunger’s innovation. The reality we all share, Yet what deep is, makes my reality whole.
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Mar 18, 2022
Mar 18, 2022 at 3:33 PM UTC
I am a Woman
You dissolute deputation Of disparate dipsomaniacs Disparately determined To drive me, distance me Definitely, diametrically Dizzily daft, daily. Ditzy, I determined to Deftly divide them; I defy them, deny them, Don't deify them But deride them Stand beside them And guide them To wander away Until some other day Some other fool Who, as a rule Digs abuse and misuse. It's not a truce But an absolute demand For their total surrender So they remember From December to December I am not a lifetime member Of the “Beat Me” club. Aye, there's the rub You thought I liked it So you could spike it Like a basketball. But, my soul is not at all Into anything you could call Masochism or submission. So, if your mission is To collect acolytes and slaves You'd just better save that For someone sicker than I And bid me a fond goodbye.
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Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 5:53 PM UTC
FOURTEENTH STEPPERS
I could feel it coming Like a bird can feel the pressure change Just before a hurricane And instinctively flies Away. But I flew to you. I wanted to play god. I clung to memories, Clung to your flannel sleeves Blindfolded myself with them Dizzily, I walked in circles. You didn’t say anything But I know you so well I could read Every line— Every crevice in your forehead Another word. My lips clung to yours Begging them to smile. My fingers danced on yours Tightroping One degree from tipping over. You didn’t kiss back. Your lips a marble statue, My fingers fell off the wire. You gazed through me like glass And I knew it was Our last.
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Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 12:40 PM UTC
The Storm
Forbidden fruit hung on the tree in such a fashion that I could not grab it. I watched the forest fever grow hot near you. Untastable, you hung just so. Just so. High on the branch but low to the ground, like an earthbound deity, you swung humbly. I watched you. Three thousand happenstances, coordinating dizzily, dropped you in my lap. How could I not lap you up? You tasted me on your way down. Sifting through me filtered, your poison seeps out my pores. Last week of ripeness go slow, I cannot get the taste off my tongue
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 7:44 PM UTC
Drip
As our pale blue presence Dizzily dances In the same single sunbeam Restless over how alone We really are So sing at the finish line Sing that sweet swan song Because all shall become nothing And in the nothingness We are lost The totality of time With every moment spent But that was then And now it's gone Im not sure where it went
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Dec 19, 2019
Dec 19, 2019 at 2:29 AM UTC
A Pale Blue Presence
. Dressing the day, Beaming purely, on bankers Hours, spinning such fine, spine Wheel ways, painting the stones Of grey, never so faraway, showing Mighty, mirth in maddest Midgard, Bearing blooms dizzily, trailing All the new, children who play, Pick and count, humming with faces Bright as the late bedding stars Joyous in the offered cheers Of the crowning sun, gifts All, in endless amount.
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC
Flower
I imagine outer space to feel like this. like; no matter what, I can't lie down. seeing a star that close made all else seem so much less bright. I'm unimpressed. I just want to love again but, you left that spell on me. my eyes don't see color anymore, my arms aren't reaching. you printed poems onto my bones. my mouth won't let me say marvelous and my hands quit thinking. I'll turn to dust like this darling. I'll be a little sandstorm on your shore for awhile and dizzily dissolve into your winsome crashing.
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May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 5:51 PM UTC
else
Busy mind, busy me. Busy me minding my busy. Busy, you see, minding me. I’m busy all the time and we Remind me of how busy My mind used to be For you. Busy you, minding me Busily rushing through, dizzy. Dizzily stumbling around the truth Hoping we wouldn’t be Too busy minded to see Still Polaroid’s in all the scenes. Images golden and sweet Nostalgically tasting honey These funny memories made by Bees Busy Bees Like you and me.
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Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 7:45 PM UTC
Honey
We’re a disaster, you and I An explosion waiting to happen The beginnings of a nuclear meltdown A finger hovering over a trigger Dangerous That’s what you called me Dangerous Threw the word into the air to hover dizzily between us So I laughed it off Recognizing that it’s you who’s trouble for me And grasping at your hand regardless It shouldn’t have been this easy for you Not after all that time I spent tripping after you For I taught myself not to crave you I’d known that you’re no good for me Playing games back and forth Cat and mouse Chasing and pouncing and running away again Leaving me to think I’d made it all up in my head Breathless and crazy and so, so tired Too tired to keep wanting this But like an open flame and a tank of gasoline Despite my best intentions You came too close and set the world on fire Maybe I hadn’t really learned my lesson Or maybe it was the way you looked at me Or maybe I’m just a pyromaniac Because I danced determinedly into the flames And there, in the blaze, we collided Disaster The explosion, the meltdown, the flying bullet All the destruction I’d tried to guard against Ripped the brain from my head and the heart from my chest And left me to burn Feverish and desperate and stumbling for more Hanging onto slurred confessions and pinky promises And the thought that Once This was all that I’d wanted But I don’t want to stand here burning anymore I don’t want to feel the skin melting from my bones Until there’s nothing left to hide behind I am sick of cat and mouse And I’m on my last life And I don’t need to get caught in a wildfire Because I told myself that I don’t want you anymore And I’m already in over my head And I can tell that you are, too It’s a mess And we both know it You had thought that our respective messes could spill into each other But that would be mixing bleach and ammonia Toxic Dangerous Because it’s like we’re each trying to save the other from drowning While struggling to keep our own heads above the water And if you fell beneath the surface I wouldn’t hold it against you Because I can’t save you I can’t get tangled in nets and arms and seaweed And the thought that you might actually want me Because my scorched bones can’t take anymore So despite my best intentions I’d only end up sinking with you I’m sorry But I can’t handle any more disaster I need rescuing and dry land No flames, no games And no dizzy decisions made too late You were right calling me dangerous Because I will always be volatile And you the spark to set me off We burn sweetly, you and I But I can’t spend my life on fire
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May 14, 2011
May 14, 2011 at 7:44 PM UTC
Dizzy Decisions Made Too Late
We’re a disaster, you and I An explosion waiting to happen The beginnings of a nuclear meltdown A finger hovering over a trigger Dangerous That’s what you called me Dangerous Threw the word into the air to hover dizzily between us So I laughed it off Recognizing that it’s you who’s trouble for me And grasping at your hand regardless It shouldn’t have been this easy for you Not after all that time I spent tripping after you For I taught myself not to crave you I’d known that you’re no good for me Playing games back and forth Cat and mouse Chasing and pouncing and running away again Leaving me to think I’d made it all up in my head Breathless and crazy and so, so tired Too tired to keep wanting this But like an open flame and a tank of gasoline Despite my best intentions You came too close and set the world on fire Maybe I hadn’t really learned my lesson Or maybe it was the way you looked at me Or maybe I’m just a pyromaniac Because I danced determinedly into the flames And there, in the blaze, we collided Disaster The explosion, the meltdown, the flying bullet All the destruction I’d tried to guard against Ripped the brain from my head and the heart from my chest And left me to burn Feverish and desperate and stumbling for more Hanging onto slurred confessions and pinky promises And the thought that Once This was all that I’d wanted But I don’t want to stand here burning anymore I don’t want to feel the skin melting from my bones Until there’s nothing left to hide behind I am sick of cat and mouse And I’m on my last life And I don’t need to get caught in a wildfire Because I told myself that I don’t want you anymore And I’m already in over my head And I can tell that you are, too It’s a mess And we both know it You had thought that our respective messes could spill into each other But that would be mixing bleach and ammonia Toxic Dangerous Because it’s like we’re each trying to save the other from drowning While struggling to keep our own heads above the water And if you fell beneath the surface I wouldn’t hold it against you Because I can’t save you I can’t get tangled in nets and arms and seaweed And the thought that you might actually want me Because my scorched bones can’t take anymore So despite my best intentions I’d only end up sinking with you I’m sorry But I can’t handle any more disaster I need rescuing and dry land No flames, no games And no dizzy decisions made too late You were right calling me dangerous Because I will always be volatile And you the spark to set me off We burn sweetly, you and I But I can’t spend my life on fire
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