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William Clifton Mar 2018
I'm gonna need some money to help me
I'm gonna grease somebody's hand
I'm gonna need the staff to hold leaks down
I don’t need Progressives to care
I'm gonna lie and fake their party
They’ll start pulling out their hair
I'm going to cover our state with
La Follette’s ashes and ain’t nobody gonna give a ****

Son of a Preacher
States on the brink
So much blight
Son of a Preacher
I don’t fight clean
I’m gonna throw our state away

Oh oh
Oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh
Oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh

Now for eight long years I've lead this attack
One more is guaranteed
Can we just please keep the lid down
And phone me in with Koch’s link

Son of a Preacher
States on the brink
So much blight
Son of a Preacher
I don’t fight clean
I'm gonna throw our state away

Mhm, mhm
Mhm, mhm, mhm, mhm
Mhm, mhm
Mhm, mhm, mhm, mhm

The state I’m breaking, our water's taken, Foxconn's a guarantee
It’s soul I’m taken, the earth is quaken, no climate's changing me

The state I’m breaking, frac sand is shaken, silica's blowing over me
Your land I’m taken, no hands I’m shaken, voters'll never find me

Son of a Preacher
States on the brink
So much blight
Son of a Preacher
I don’t fight clean
I’m gonna throw our state away

Son of a Preacher
States on the brink
So much blight
Son of a Preacher
I don’t fight clean
I’m gonna throw our state away

Oh oh
Oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh
Oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh
Oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh
Oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh
Ben May 2013
The Morning After Part I
What the hell have I done? It feels like my temples are about to explode and the early morning light burns my eyes. My shirt is missing and I’m curled up on my Lovesac. I glance to the left to see Alice is sprawled out on my air mattress. She looks drained, even while asleep, and I think that I probably look a lot worse. Last night… What happened last night? It’s all just a jumble, my memories out of order. It’s a flash of colors, sounds, feelings and sensations, a blur in my mind. It feels like a tilt-a-whirl of sensory overload and I kind of want to puke. Then, like a dam breaking, fragments of memories flood my mind in a sickening torrent, too much, too much. ****. It’s starting to come back and that’s not even remotely helping, just making it worse. I feel even more confused and all I can think is What Happened…?

Ok! Let’s Party!
a three am party a trip edge
a witching hour emprise time to begin
a black and white strip of paper so thin
it looked so harmless, inconspicuous, even then
five hits for me, four hits for you,
placed under our tongues, we expectantly raise
eyes round the dark room for a white rabbits maze
or floating cat ears and Cheshire grin
the seconds pass, then minutes do spin
nothing shifts or shapes, bends or breaks
we wander to seats, choose movie to play
Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World comes to life on screen in a blaze

Trip # Cats Everywhere
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4 - !”
cats are crawling slinking stalking
their eyes are glowing growing pulsing
and bodies moving sinuously serpentine
flowing round the corners of my eyes
fleeing from sight like shadowy wraiths
insubstantial  sensory stimulation

Trip # ****** Coma
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

ringing blue lightning flashes razor sharp quick
cutting my mind in jaw breaking half
gasping for air I lunge forward hard
and break into silence, stillness, calm.
you have to remember to breathe
when things get fuzzy or funny or anytime now
otherwise sanity slips like water through fingers
or like rabbits down tunnels
on time to lost minds and messy motor control
****** coma, giddy, ecstatic, inescapable, unrelenting

Trip # I’m Melting
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

I have to **** but the whole world is breathing
standing and swaying every step an adventure
entranced by the swirly dripping dropping walls
i barely stay balanced though trousers do fall
relief, ahhh, glance down what the ****!?
maniacal laughter rings through the room
I’m melting I’m melting in big drops and small
being pulled ever downward but never disappearing
warm like candle wax, thick and viscous
I’m leaving a trail of me on the floor

Trip # Music
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

complex strains of sounds by vibrations
subtly influence the mood in the room
emotions experienced changing by song
upbeat pulse lively down tempo drops dangerous
I can feel the sound envelope my soul
Alice enraptured marries the music
sitting on moment to swaying the next
pressed up against me, blink, appears on by wall
(don’t drink and drive, take acid and teleport)
this controlling cacophony swells then settles
an ocean unseen deciding the trip

Trip # Alone
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

Alice embarks on adventure to leave
a trip to the restroom a momentous maze
breathe deep and hold, keep it together
I slip from this plane to a place so strange
the chair is moving and so is her hat
were they ever just objects or always alive
pink and white fur slithers up in answer
caressing my arms sensual depraved
the laughter returns ever occurring involuntary
in fast rolling eyes at madness do gaze
I cavort around with fluffy new friends
tumbling and squirming wiggly worming
the fun never ends the fun never ends
“are you ok?” – Alice inquires
back after minutes turned hours
“is this how it feels to know you’re insane”

Trip # ******
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

the blurry lights shimmer in colorful haze
I swim towards the surface lost in a daze
“hush now hush now you’re ok”
“how long was I out for” a question…a phrase
“ten minutes this time” “it felt like days”
harder to come back, feels like I’m drowning in rain
blood mixes clear with needle in vein
and fading to black and fading to grey
the blurry lights shimmer in colorful haze
I swim towards the surface lost in a daze
“hush now hush now you’re ok”
“how long was I out for” a question…a phrase
“ten minutes this time” “it felt like days”
harder to come back, feels like I’m drowning in rain
blood mixes clear with needle in vein
and fading to black and fading to grey
the blurry lights shimmer in colorful haze
I swim towards the surface lost in a daze
“hush now hush now you’re ok”
“how long was I out for” a question…a phrase
“ten minutes this time” “it felt like days”
harder to come back, feels like I’m drowning in rain
blood mixes clear with needle in vein
and fading to black and fading to grey
“I haven’t slept in eight days”
a half muttered phrase
“what are you saying, it’s been 10 minutes”
alice mouths back with questioning gaze
fade to black

Trip # Telepathic
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...
“mhm yeah like what like yeah what”
“mhm like yeah like what oh what like yeah”
“mhm yeah like what oh **** like what huh oh what”
“mhm yeah like what oh yeah like what mhm ****”
mhm yeah **** like what oh mhm yeah what”
“wait what?”

Trip # Blue Gum Matrix
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

bubbles bubbles popping in pink
filling my mouth with cotton clouds
sugary sweet deliciously soft
seducing my mind into boiling blue bliss
I don’t notice the binary program lurking through unconscious thought
uploading software for changing perception
the transition to fiction so seamless like silk
I’ve jacked into the system with every chew
it’s twothousandwhatever in metrohive Tokyo
the future is different yet still feels the same
Alice sits solitary in darkened apartment
with wires like web strung throughout the room
all tracing with tracers glowing in ambience a glistening path
to electrical heaven, a desktop computer
my visual sensors are booting and loading
with mechanical perfection clarity arrives
a robot, I robot, created as A.D.E.M.
(Artificially Developed Emotional eMulator)
or A **** Excellent Machine (self-titled)
I sit up and blink as synapses fire
electrical currents carried on nanobig wires
I go move towards alice and watch binary code scroll
plugged into the network a direct hacker helper
this job’s objectives flash ‘fore my face
“we’ve got a big heist, security’s tight”
the scene’s fading out, cameras pan to the night

Trip # In Which I See the Future
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

Alice and I curl up as one
excessive I know on this excessive night
but excessively is as excessively done, the social norm
it’s experience together and not alone
that draws us closer to breathe in unison
a chance to express feeling in this
uncharted sensory undertaking
together hearts beat in arrhythmic understanding
a feeling of pleasure creeps down my spine
and spreads out in ripples turning to waves
crashing and breaking on the sweet shore of…
alone in the bathroom I reflect on actions
for minutes and hours and finally days
I watch myself age and age and go grey
tormented by thoughts of actions and actions
guilt like creeping mold consumes my visage
decrepit and wasted I stumble from chambers
to find five am clock arms right in my face…

The Morning After Part II**
lysergic acid diethylamide.... an adventure every time
jennifer ann Jan 2015
"i'm watching you, stupid *****." Madison pointed at pyper as the girls made there way out of the dining room. "thats enough madison." Cordelia scolded. Nan followed pyper up the stairs  into her bedroom. "why are you following me?" pyper asked, looking at nan in disgust. rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "you have madisons money." nan crossed her arms and smiled. "excuse me??" pyper replied as if she were offended by Nans accusation. "mhm, and you have zoeys sunglasses.., cassies ipod, and 25 dollars you stole from emilys purse. along with her art pencils." nan replied. "wow, you're A cleptomaniac." Nan laughed. "okay, how do you know all of this???" Pyper asked, her cheeks red from embarissment, and her head lowered in shame. "i'm psychic. i can read minds." nan explained. suddenly cassie walked past pypers room in search of her stolen ipod. "has anyone seen my pink ipod???" Cassie questioned, it was sitting on my bed, and now i can't find it anywhere. " she looked around hopelessly. "well then look in your room cassie. give me 5 minutes and i'll help you look." pyper shouted. "wow, you're a real piece of work arent you?" nan rolled her eyes and chuckled. "what is your angle, nan?" Pyper questioned, rolling her eyes aswell. saying names name as if she were mocking the whole idea of her. "my angle, PYPER. is this, you give everyone there **** back or i'm telling cordelia and you're out of here." Nan smerked. "you're not going to tell on me anyway?" pyper asked sadly. "no, not onless you do it again." nan sighed, "we stick together here, we're a family, we don't steele eachother down thats not what we're about." nan explained sympatheticly. "wow, thats funny because that's all my real family ever did." pyper replied with big sad puppy dog eyes. nan nodded, "i'm not here to listen to your ******* excuses or your sob stories. if saying that you've had a hard life, and never had anything given to you. and the world owes you.  helps you get to sleep at night then fine, cool beans. but i'm not buying that ****.  and these girls don't owe you anything. now, i expect everyone to have there **** back by the morning, or i will tell cordelia." nan sighed and rolled her eyes. "okay." pyper nodded with a wounded look upon her face. Cassie stood outside of the door, still listening. her eyebrows raised in anger. and then made her way up the stairs and into madisons room. "what are you doing here pipsquick. im NOT in the mood." Madison sobbed. "oh i think you're in the mood for this, i know who took your money." Cassie smiled.
Čortoloman May 2018
A: Don't you find it irritating?

Z: Hm?

A: Don't you find irritating the human need to feel happiness?

Z: Isn't that only natural? When you are happy you feel good. So
you will want to feel good when you aren't happy right?

A: But that's not natural. Being happy is just a state you can be at. It's not the state you were at before or after. Being neutral is a state you came from and will go to.

Z: So should I feel the need to be sad when I'm happy just as I have the need to fell happy when I'm sad?

A: No, that does nothing. You shouldn't feel anything at all. Or have a need to in the first place.

Z: That makes no sense. Life is what the living does. You can't live without a need to feel can you?

A: Well maybe being alive is not a natural state to be at as well! If it was you wouldn't die or be born.

Z: What do you mean?

A: Well maybe life and death are also just a state you can be at, but neither are the natural states...

Z: Ugh... Third state beside Life and Death?

A: Yeah!

Z: What would that be?

A: Well for that to work I guess there would have to be a third party involved, like a soul or something, then we could say that it's only your body that is alive or dead. Your soul is then just a presence that trough a medium called body is collecting experience.

Z: What about emotions?

A: Let's add another body in the picture! Call it „emotional body“. Emotional body is using a physical body as a medium to get experience from the world and then there is a soul that is using the emotional body as a medium so we get a perfect being!

Z: Isn't that a bit of a stretch?

A: Who knows.... But then we could say that there is finally a natural state to be at. It is called „Soul state“. In this state you resonate your three bodies (the physical, emotional and soul bodies). In this state you are not „Alive“ or „Dead“, you are not „Happy“ or „Sad“, you are just a presence.

Z: And how would you get to this state called „Soul state“??

A: Well you should ask yourself why do the other two bodies exist in the first place?

Z: Hm.. Well to experience things right?

A: Yeah..

Z: Ohhh! So the soul is a presence that trough the two bodies experiences things! So once it has experienced all there is to see and feel. It will finally enter the „Soul state“!!

A: exactly!

Z: But isn't there just soo much? We don't really have enough time to experience all there is...

A: well who said you live only once..

Z: Reincarnations?

A: Mhm.

Z: But why don't we remember things from our past lives?

A: Well it would be rather easier to experience everything if you think you have only so much time. That way you will use all of the time given to you to live at your fullest!
Story I came up with to connect the puzzle pieces together in a way that i feel comfortable with XD
DH Matthews Apr 2014
me and i and nobody
nobody and me and i
me? who?
"who, him? nobody"

somebody. (anybody!)

her: "you."
me: ""
her: "you and me."
me: "you and i."

her and i, me and her, her and i, me and she
it! (mhm, that.)
us, and that.

us! us, us, we, us, we, we, us
us and them, us and those, us and some
them and me?...
us and them.
me, and her and them.
me and her...and them.
and him. him...
me and you.


"her and him..."
him? him!? HER AND HIM!?

her and him
her and him
her and him
her and him
her and him

me: "you and him?"
her: "me and you!"
me: "you and him!"
her: "you..."
me: "YOU AND HIM!"
me: "me or him."
me: "you and him."

... and her...
her. and him. it. (that.)
(that!? her and him!?)

me and i and nobody
nobody and me and i
me? who? (her...)
"who, me? nobody."
arranging a bunch of words that couldn't even make up a single sentence in a way that creates a narrative with characters...somebody explain to me why i thought poetry was stupid in high school?
OnwardFlame Aug 2016
I'm ******
At my boyfriends house.

Listening to Cecilia by Simon & Garfunkel
Lit crawl echoes and hums outside
We welcome pumpkin spice & technological devices
Hum hum hum hum
Thump thump thump
In the most pleasant way
Mhm mhm mhm mhm.

I've been so ******* myself
I realized as I left my neighborhood
Like, really quite brutal at times
Pack a bowl
Lets glimmer in the evening sunshine
Everything's weird
And magical
When ya just let it
Be be be be be be be.
Joshua Haines May 2014
Caged organs never sounded so beat
Bone marrow around the brass meat
I'm a toxic lover with love around my waist
And afraid of poisoning, as you taste waste
Cleaning toxins out of my sheets with chemicals.

(commercial break)


Breathe me all the ways to stay away
Blood on bathroom tiles that run for miles like crimson Niles
Just stay


(Okay, we're back.)

Coals in your cold coat holes
I know you're happy now
I hope you're warm with fingers intertwined
within the future in your ribcage
feel your organs to know you're alive
your heartbeats beat because of a stolen car.
I feel-

(change the station)

Drive me, my baby. I'll turn you out in time. Don't you recognize
you're the only thing I want in sight. I could change your-

(change the station)

You're the one for me. You are my-

(change the station)

I hope you like it like you love it when you should like it because you love it without liking it with loving it within loving and without loving with love and without like because liking is love and love is liking what is liked to be loved within and without. Here's God with the weather.

(change the station)

Green and cotton, that's a lovely chair, I could make love from over there
without a percocet. Un-un-un-un.
Touch the eyes that boil within; you find me nice but I'm not applicable
because I'm a lonely boy without a dog.
And I,
And I,
God. Nod.

Sugar sweet, silver sweep,
I could touch you in familiar places in unfamiliar ways
I get lost in the boulevard of a sweatshirt
And I,
And I,
without. Route.

Mhm, that's not a smile,
that's a thirty-foot crocodile
waiting to take a chunk outta my heart.
******* in separate dreams with the same meaning,
blood boiling in coffee pots and soldiers
without a cover.
Tame me like a child in uniform, from the universe.
Cake drugs like it's an icecream cone. Jesus loves you.
**** in another room
to feel the same.
**** in another mindset
to feel sane. Train.

I'm not a river of veins suffocated by milk skin,
to be without a busted lip is to be kissing without pain.
And to be your God
is to be ******* insane. ******* in a bathub.

you're a painting within a crooked house
inside a straight housewife's flamboyant blouse.
You're sippin' on God and Orange Julius
without a straw.

Ripping out red ribbon rays from rayon replays of a river in ruin
really what did you expect to do with that sort of information
I could cancer caulk chalk with every other walk
to seal your home without home inflammation.

Jesus on a candle clock, with a nail in each hand of the hour
I feel nothing but sugar shame when I sail past his shower.
And I,
without remorse.
And I,
without remorse. Force.

Candy-coated ***** candidly corroding colored coats into capes
callously creating cowardice,
can you be more?

I have a way to remove myself from great events
and a way to sell lies wrapped up in honest packages.
To be without and which way would you run with me
if I were not a twenty-three
in your eyes,
meteorological decline.

And the winds
me home.
And your eyes
me home.
And your lips
me home.
And your hands
me home.
Home again.

(change the station)

Bone marrow
in my back
touch me, I wanna feel
Give it up
Give it up
I want to make love in love
I want to die and donate
a part of myself
my backbone, lack thereof

(change the station)

Tie a noose around a highschool grad
attach to a college rule to rule how to think the same
because a couple of IDs and free games
help you understand how you understand how you understand
how you understand how you understand how you understand




Two twenty-three inside a church for me because God doesn't have
a responsible doorman, just an abused son and a plot-hole plan.

(change station)

Save the opera for the quiet drinks
I wanna think, I wanna think

(change station)

Sonic tendencies
suicidal sound
My heart is left in a bone,
bone marrow
I'm a broken calcium stick
surrounded by health
I waste away
Waste away for you
I love.

I tried to stay my overstay.

(change the station)

Bronze your lips, I want to kiss you green.
Wait. I could be the best.
Don't walk too far because it feels like walking away.

(change the station)

Super fast
in the past
Dougie Simps Feb 2016
Maybe it's me, who's afraid of commitment
Maybe it's you, who's notion is not to listen
Maybe it's us who seem to rather die than fall in love...

Maybe I've lied, in your arms for too long
Maybe you've dived, too deep into my soul
Thought it was us, we who would grow old
And together reinvent love...

But why?
Why don't we try to stay?
Is it easier to just get up and walk away?
We fight but not for the reason of love...
Oh, not for the reason of love

Girl, talk to me..let the words fly like butterflies
My net in hand, I'll catch all your truth and lies
Because that is love
It's a war of words, pain and lies
But we still gotta try

Divide our hearts, add them together and watch our bond multiply
Let me give you wings, the power of my affection will make you fly
Please hold my hand, if you let me go I just may die... Ohh baby can't we try...
Said "she's tired of love...@

But why?
Why don't we try to stay?
Is it easier to just get up and walk away?
We fight but not for the reason of love...
Oh, not for the reason of love

Oh no no no not the reason of love
It's cold out side but she's rather not come in, the sun can shine but she rather it rain my sins, the leaves are falling just like us,
So much change but we refuse to fight...

We refuse to fight for...the reason of love.
Change of the reasons. Wrote this quick as a piano slow melody
Dougie Simps Apr 2015
I'm ridin' down in my old school Chevy (yeah)
Owh, she can get it.. (Mhm)
Bad little shawty,
So thick and pretty,
Girl come sit with me,
Ride out and see the city,
Let the lights hypnotize ya
It ain't no biggie, (word)
I'm young man searching,
Looking for a queen
A woman who takes full control
Both in and out the sheets

Now babe let's ride till they dim the city lights,
I'm not lookin for a right now,
I'm lookin for a wife
The kind that holds me down
And picks it up slow
So if you down, come around
Baby girl let me knowwww

Queen of hearts, Queen of hearts
Tryna play my cards right
Queen of hearts, Queen of hearts
Can I hold you down tonight?
Queen of hearts, Queen of hearts
A one of a kind in this deck
My Queen of hearts, yes
Can you put my heart in check?

Now I'm sweatin and shakin
Tryna see if she's bluffing,
Am I just another dealer?
Just another man cuffin?
Does this card mean nothing?
So why do I play it so close to my heart?
Is this the moment that I reshuffle? Redo the deck and restart?
Man this the hardest part,
Imma take my odds
Gamble on her smile,
Bid on this work of art,
Cause love is a game,
You only win if you play
So I ask this Queen of hearts
"Baby is this my lucky day?"

Now babe let's ride till they dim the city lights,
I'm not lookin for a right now,
I'm lookin for a wife
The kind that holds me down
And picks it up slow
So if you down, come around
Baby girl let me knowwww

Queen of hearts, Queen of hearts
Tryna play my cards right
Queen of hearts, Queen of hearts
Can I hold you down tonight?
Queen of hearts, Queen of hearts
A one of a kind in this deck
My Queen of hearts, yes
Can you put my heart in check?

Layin on the beach,
It's me and my Queen
Whispering sweet nothings in her ear
And she gently kisses my cheek,
Then she climbs on top of me
As we watched the sunset
This was more than two loves
This was more than just ***
It was passion from the ocean
And the heat from the sun
It was crazy, stupid, love
It was a blessing up above
It's feet deep in the sand
Till we both walked hand in hand
She was my only Queen of hearts
And I was her loyal kingsman.

My Queen of hearts, yeah...
Oh, oh. Oh yeah
My Queen of hearts yeah...
Oh, oh, ohh
She's simply one of a kind
My Queen of hearts....
Oh, tell me will you be mine?

(Singing fades out)
My first song I've written with a bridge and hook. I'm still learning. Copyrighted - Douglas Bland Simpkins
Next, then, the peacock, gilt
With all its feathers. Look, what gorgeous dyes
Flow in the eyes!
And how deep, lustrous greens are splashed and spilt
Along the back, that like a sea-wave's crest
Scatters soft beauty o'er th' emblazoned breast!

A strange fowl! But most fit
For feasts like this, whereby I honor one
Pure as the sun!
Yet glowing with the fiery zeal of it!
Some wine? Your goblet's empty? Let it foam!
It is not often that you come to Rome!

You like the Venice glass?
Rippled with lines that float like women's curls,
Neck like a girl's,
Fierce-glowing as a chalice in the Mass?
You start -- 'twas artist then, not Pope who spoke!
Ave Maria stella! -- ah, it broke!

'Tis said they break alone
When poison writhes within. A foolish tale!
What, you look pale?
Caraffa, fetch a silver cup! . . . You own
A Birth of Venus, now -- or so I've heard,
Lovely as the breast-plumage of a bird.

Also a Dancing Faun,
Hewn with the lithe grace of Praxiteles;
Globed pearls to please
A sultan; golden veils that drop like lawn --
How happy I could be with but a tithe
Of your possessions, fortunate one! Don't writhe

But take these cushions here!
Now for the fruit! Great peaches, satin-skinned,
Rough tamarind,
Pomegranates red as lips -- oh they come dear!
But men like you we feast at any price --
A plum perhaps? They're looking rather nice!

I'll cut the thing in half.
There's yours! Now, with a one-side-poisoned knife
One might ***** life
And leave one's friend with -- "fool" for epitaph!
An old trick? Truth! But when one has the itch
For pretty things and isn't very rich. . . .

There, eat it all or I'll
Be angry! You feel giddy? Well, it's hot!
This bergamot
Take home and smell -- it purges blood of bile!
And when you kiss Bianca's dimpled knee,
Think of the poor Pope in his misery!

Now you may kiss my ring!
** there, the Cardinal's litter! -- You must dine
When the new wine
Is in, again with me -- hear Bice sing,
Even admire my frescoes -- though they're nought
Beside the calm Greek glories you have bought!

Godspeed, Sir Cardinal!
And take a weak man's blessing! Help him there
To the cool air! . . .
Lucrezia here? You're ready for the ball?
-- He'll die within ten hours, I suppose --
Mhm! Kiss your poor old father, little rose!
drunkonthoughts Dec 2013
there was this guy
who inspired me
once upon a time
he was the reason
i even wrote
my first ever
love poem
and at first
it was serious
and then it all
turned into dust
but i was stunned
infatuated for a long time
now he's no longer in my life
and i'm over the thought
of ever needing his embrace
or his face to kiss
met him 4 years ago
september 2009
fell in love
but turned him away
because love was a no-go
WendyStarry Eyes Oct 2014
Mhmm... yea!
Mhmm... ey-yeah-ey yeah yeah yeah mm... mhmm

Mhmm... mhmm...
Mhmm... yea! yeah
Mhmm... ey-yeah-ey yeah yeah mm mm, mhm

Hey, yea-yea, yeah-eh-yeah-eh, yeah-eh-yeah-eh
Hey hey-yea-eh yeah, mhmm

Professional or beginner doesnt matter
Every sinner is a prisoner in a body that is subject to time
Now my entwined mind tries to form a straight line
not like twised scoliosis of the spinal chord

Cross eyed carpenters are cuttin' crooked lines
Can't construct
man-made shrines when the winds and the water move sands of time

Many minds on a deadline, yet live life like a live wire
I'm not tired!
Of blood and fire
Spirit's moving higher than the green grass ever lifted me

Spirit's moving higher...
Than anything else ever lifted you
Mm, see

We got spirituality
It's living in us like one in three
Injustice is concerning me
in the non-linear eternity
I'm speaking paradoxically
but you can nod your head now when you understand me-e-e-ee...

This is for my free men
whose backs wont bend in the lions den
now with their eyes on the ending

This is for my free women!
They fight with their love
The bearers of our children

Free men whose backs wont bend in the lions den
now with their eyes on the ending

This is for my free women
They fight with their love
The bearers of our children

We shine like lights exposing
what lies underneath decomposing
Unearth those chains that are rusted
my sweet Lord, is that what i trusted in?
That sin? That tomfoolery? Ugh!
What it is is mental jewelery that I adorned myself with

The enemy's gifts, the man-made myths, the ignorant bliss
of marijuana spliffs and alchoholic fifths
I got so sick and tired of it

Delivered and redeemed
by christ i mean
It's time to start livin'
and get a reason for the rhyme

I dont wanna be dead-wrong on the deadline
Standing on the dark side and all out of time...
Like a blind pantomime's fantasize
climb up his own ladder to the sunshine

Nothin's mine
that hasn't been given
No one's alive here
that hasn't been risen
For 19 years i was trapped in a prison

Feeding my escape by means of derision
but every man-made attempt just failed
when trapped in a jail
of my own guilt, shame, and iniquity

I was looking for freedom
How'd I find freedom?

Oh! Oh, freedom...
from all of this

He said believe
He said believe

Who are you telling me to belei-e-eve... yea
'Said I'm the Christ

...he said I'm the Christ

So I believed.


Mhmm... yea
Mhmm... ey!
Mhmm... ey-yeah-ey yeah yeah yeah eh, mhmm

Mhmm... Hey! No, no no
Mhmm... yea!
Mhmm... Yea ey-yeah-ey yeah yeah mhm,

Nah na-na-nah
Dougie Simps Sep 2015
mhm it's 6 am...
I drank too much
opened the door...
who could it be?
I see's my lady
"how could you? can you see?"
"what's wrong with you!?"
Mh, Maybe it's me? or
maybe it's her?
drunk on the floor as I try to reoccur
all of her words...
all of her...
baby I****, my words are slurred
she says "I'm done!"
I said "Just wait!!"
this instability is what you create!
you hurt me and desert me!
why don't we touch!?
I come home...all you say is "Lunch!"
I know I'm wrong...I drink too much.
I'm sorry, if I forgot to say...
"Baby, you look gorgeous today."
Time has changed all my usual ways
I don't'll like what I'm about to say.

I go out and like to sit down
grab a beer and talk to a crowd
of different women, with different missions
some are divorced, the others are still making decisions
I enjoy to hear their stories, see if I can relate
I then ask myself..."How can love turn so quickly into hate?"
I know you feel the same, don't look at me in shame!
I saw you go out the other night with your "girls"
but you were really with whatever his name!
"no I wasn't"
Now wait, I'm not done!
you know that holding on is just no fun.
we've grown apart over the years, baby... let's just go and move on...
do right by ourselves and even more by our son.
Love isn't a game...and if it was we both forgot how to play..
I'll always have a place for you in my heart, no matter what. That's all I'm trying to say.

I..."NO! It's my turn to speak! First off that was my Co-worker! and his name was steve, you met him and his wife! and don't you dare say another thing!
You've been cheating for years and hurting EVERYTHING!
In college you were the best thing that heaven could bring! now all you do is leave me hanging by a string. I wait with the kids as you go and get kiss the shot glass more than you kiss me. You tell all your jokes to these girls you've never met...After the baby, I don't know the last time we had ***! You come home and just stare, pretend like you're there... the kids barely know who you are and I don't think you could care. You hurt and you rip! It's been seven walk right on past me as I shed all these tears. I pray everyday that you will one day look my way... that you'll stop hurting me so much and change your dark ways. I must be a think I'd change you by force...well I'm done I'M DONE....***, I WANT...A...divorce (she starts to cry) hmm babe I need to let you go, I need to take our kids and grow...hmm I just need you to know that I always knew...Now please let me be mhmm just promise, PROMISE, PROMISEEE....that you'll let me be free."

I...****. I came home baby, this just got so crazy. I remember all those days calling you my lady...
I thought I was in control and realized I was wrong...this liquid confidence gave me the idea that it would be good if you were gone...
I know I was wrong
can I...
can I...
maybe it's too late to explain...
Divorce seems to be the only way to free us from these miserable chains.
I wanna say I'm sorry...But a cheater never truly changes, nor wins.
I beg for forgiveness and hope god will let me in.
Crazy how love starts so fast and hits so quick...
If you were to ask me then where'd I be seven years later...
I wouldn't ever imagined this.

I'm sorry. I only wish for one last kiss..
I also hope you meet someone who sees, sees all I missed.

(Give me the paper, I'll sign this)

No family pick-nicks, no "good morning baby", no "Good morning" to my kids...just days and days of deep remorse...I guess this what it all means...this is the pain...this is...

He stops writing this letter.

This is Divorce.
That's Real Life...(inspired by you.)
unwritten Sep 2016
my psychiatrist tells me i have holes in me.
she says it as though it is something
i should already know.
and when she says it,
the shift inside me is something i wish i could compare
to the grinding of tectonic plates,
if only i were strong enough to bring about an earthquake.

but since i am a stranger even to aftershocks,
i keep quiet.
my earthquake is stillborn,
expressed instead as a nod,
as a chewing of the lip,
as a silent, compliant “mhm.”
and the urge that nestles itself at the pit of my stomach
is not an urge to disagree;
it is an urge to forget.

because my psychiatrist tells me i have holes in me.
she says it as though it is something i should already know,
and she says it in a way that is not meant to make me feel incomplete,
but it is a way that still does,
and if i can forget this,
even for a moment,
i can forget that i am not okay.

i do not like not being okay;
i do not like having problems,
and my psychiatrist,
she tells me i have holes in me and she says it
as though it is a problem.

and so begins a slow disintegration:
i become but a bearer of problems,
a garden growing only weeds —
something in need of fixing.
i see myself a war-torn landscape,
dry and cracked and lacking life.
i see myself the kind of ground you step on and say,
“remember when things used to grow here?
remember when it used to be green?”

i am still trying to be green,
always trying to be green,
but my psychiatrist tells me
i have holes in me,
and suddenly green becomes a color i will never know how to paint.

outside my psychiatrist’s office,
on the wall of the waiting room,
there is a painting of flowers —
irises and a geranium —
and the leaves, i know, are supposed to be green,
but the paint is old and faded
and they don’t look it.

and for a moment,
i think
that maybe,
whether iris
or geranium
or boy riddled with holes,
maybe it is possible to bloom
even if you are not green.

sorry for my absence. here's a poem i wrote periodically over the last month or so, from 7/18 to 8/30. hope you enjoy. **
xmxrgxncy Feb 2017
i love that it took 30 slits for you to realize I needed help. Thanks for leaving me at the emergency room by myself. Don't you ever ******* dare touch me again. I just want to die.
Ashley Jan 2014
Hi Dad,do you love me?*
Why of course i do sweetheart, you're my daughter after all.
Now shhh quit talking, I'm on a conference call.

Hi Dad, do you love me?
Yes yes, of course.
But forget your mom, we're getting a divorce.

Hi Dad, do you love me?
Mhm, sure do!
but keep on working, you've got studies to tend to.

Hi Dad do you love me?
Yes, you're the bomb!
Now look the other way, while I'm hitting your mom.

Hi Dad, do you love me?
How could i not?
but if you get an A, I'll really love you a lot.

Hi Dad, do you love me?
Yes, you're beautiful, you're smart
Hope you don't mind me breaking your heart!

Hi Dad do you love me?
I do today.
careful though, i probably won't stay.

Hi Dad do you love me?
i guess you're okay
Now say goodbye as i move far far away.

Hi Dad do you love me?
Well i guess i have to
but check out my new family, way better than you.

Dad *please
, do you love me?
Why I'm afraid not
to be honest sweetie, you never had a shot

But why don't you love me, am i not good enough?
Never were honey. But quit crying, be tough.
Megan Hundley Sep 2012
Her fingers were covered in corn.
the corn after chewing, broken
pierced, churned- it could spread as butter
thick on stale toast, if needed
"it's fine, don't you worry, we'll get you all cleaned up"
she stared indifferently

Strings dangled from her mouth, unswept
full of necessary greens ---"mhm there there, this will give
you so much energy" --- drags of breath,
half inhale half choke. nothing to look forward to,
not the next soaking glob, not the cursing woman
in the bathroom, not the spill of light to her eyes

Where are the ladles, Did you check on it? The key? Just moved, most the suitcases aren't there yet. Remember to bring the Did you check on it? pay attention. Have you seen my grand kids?
who are you?

Sunday's are for the active ones
The games down the hall are  too far. Why worry with legs, if she could just adjust to the left
the world could sag into an ongoing dream- No demands, no games, no movement.

The nurses hair net had more presence than the splotch of gray against her peeling itchy scalp. Drool leaked from leather lips, dampening the collar of her two month sticky blouse.  Arms curled and locked,displaying under the wax skin cranberry patches-
she never wiped them off. Always the soft murmer of
a snore, always the smell of unbrushed teeth and hampers.

"Did you touch those where don't touch me scott scott scott leave my things alone thevenin I need a stop lying I want to go scott, scott? scott.     I            can't              remember                       any"

I said my name four times before she heard me, knew me
I fixed her pillow and my sister marked off the day on the calendar.
We told her about school, the marching band, each word
filled with forced enthusiasm. She bobbed  her head in circles, lazily
rolling her eyes, the curtain shading the empty space. We spent 30 minutes precisely.

She was more than I realized.
I never knew she had horseback riding, violin playing days. She traveled and  hiked. We could have been close. Unraveling with the mystery, I felt the lateness of my curiosity.
It was 30 minutes precisely, always.

We acted as strangers, reciting routine and wishing each other a happy day and a quiet love you
Simon Oct 2019
What’s happened! A voice remarked. Why are my puzzle pieces scattered in a wasteland? Another voice spoke up, sounding distant. That’s what I’d like to know! Then more followed. Sounding like a choir of different voices were in effect. Except none of the voices sounded cheery in their perfect chorus on cue. A shriek followed. A wasteland full of shrieks rumbled the ground. Ejecting lots of dust. Blinding visibility across a wide landscape! A landscape full of sand. Governing a deadly waste scouring a dryness accumulating pieces of voices not to far off from one another. Dust from the shrieks rumbling the ground, finally clear. Settling a glimpse at what has been shrieking with such volumes of obscure reasoning. Puzzle…PIECES! Huh? Who said that…? The voice asked, completely taken off guard. What instrument are we trying to provide here? Not sure I’m exactly wondering what your trying to offer by the term (instrument)? Having instruments aren’t folly you know. Another voice interrupting the other voices conversing nonsense. You guys do realize non of what your saying is making any practical sense? Like…at ALL! Huh? One voice replied. Another joining in. Well if your so clever…why don’t you entertain us with how things should really be voiced? Gladly! The more logical voice commented. The voice acting snobbish made a sound. Showcasing it didn’t like being told what it knew and what it didn’t know. The dust has settled. The two voices conversing said on cue. Your point…? No logic, until you display your horizons onto the landscape which shows what we are. One voice replied confused. Logic? Another responded. Horizons? Then on cue again. Landscape??!! The logical voice continued. Just looking around the landscape, which introduces the horizon of who, what, and where you are. Making the logical assessment that, well…everything…is what should have been since the very beginning. Panting for just a single moment. Without claim or focus…the end! The two conversing voices completely dumbfounded, sighed very harshly! Finally deciding to take the more logical one’s words more seriously. Other voices following on cue. Which made all voices look down toward there surroundings. The logical one smiled brightly! AHHH! Another shriek came. O…JEEESSSUUUSSS!!! More shrieks accumulated the wasteland. Prompting more dust to rumble. Popping all over the horizon’s visibility again! So, what did we learn about this very confusing, obscuring display? Well…easy! A voice said from no where. That it was a display of nurturing. Huh…? Really? The one sounding like the narrator drawn in by the voices interest. Ya, well… They stopped to rethink what they just offered in response. Your hesitating. The narrator’s voice sounding suspicious. Ya, well… Not sure how to express what I saw. Still remaining suspicious, the narrator continued. Anda…what is it…you exactly…saw…? The voice from no where exploded all built up energy in one gigantic spurt! There was puzzle pieces scattered in a wasteland! They had no identity to speak of. Pieces deconstructed in a sand covered landscape full of dry essence. And…and… They stopped mid-thought to catch their breath! The narrator didn’t speak a word. The dust was symbolizing ones missing grasp at not figuring out they were all apart of the same form. The same essence. Drying out claims too full of themselves through partial reasoning on potential agreements never going anywhere. Mmmmm…mhm…mmmmm… The narrator seemingly amused by this information. No identity, means no way of connecting to one another. Never to make sense of the premise one could offer. Puzzle pieces stuck in the sands of dry essence. A rut too involved to be just any coincidence. The dry essence covering up each puzzle piece. Muffling there voices forever. They tried to reach out. Trying to make sense of (what could have been). Rather then how to assort their differences into one claim. Working together wasn’t this identities strongpoint. Pieces were arguing too much. Until one seemed to be the most offering of the bunch. Thou…thou… Go on. The narrator said. No one listened to them. Following in the footsteps of one foolish puzzle piece after the other. Until there was nothing to be left, but silence. The voice from no where shrieked towards the narrator’s glaring tension toward the speaker. Laughing in disgust toward the potential risk one poses when reaching out toward its other component pieces.
Puzzle pieces will never learn if each piece doesn’t know how to direct oneself, before connecting with the bigger, more established form. Which is rendered to a mere silhouette full of details invoking a nothingness claim.
R May 2013
Tommy Johnson Jul 2014
Encroaching satellites
High voltage saturation and shade
And an obtuse synopsis of cognitive psychology

Condensing your threshold
Searching for hand outs
Ripping the railings out of the walls
In the stairwells in the doctor's office on the way to your colonoscopy  

Laying on the futon with and your therapist writing down everything you say
"Go on"
"I see"
"How does that make you feel?"

Skid-marked underwear
Delving, dumpster diving for food
In the lonesome twilight
In the rippling rainstorm

People shelling out gripes
Squinting, doing a double take at you
Followed by a wavering tumult
They're gonna have you capped
That is, unless you purchase this love seat

       -Tommy Johnson
sun stars moons Jun 2014
"I've been having trouble sleeping"
I explain.
"I get headaches.
I'm nauseous. I can't eat.
I've lost weight.
A lot of weight."
He nods, still staring at the computer.
"Here hurts"
I point to my rib cage, poking out through my t-shirt.
He glances at me and types some more.
All the while my head is spinning
And I can feel the blood rushing up to my head
then back down again.
I feel weak.
"I think I may need to change my dosage."
"Mhm, mhm."
He nods again.
The printer roars to life.
"Take this twice every morning and once at night. These are for the headaches, don't take more than one every 8 hours, and only when necessary. Take this before bed, it should help with the - "
And then, just as he held up the fourth piece of paper,
I saw the carpeted floor rush up to meet me.
And just like that,
I was gone.
And the worst of it all,
is that I did this to myself.
And he knew it.
samantha Sep 2018
I broke up with her
for good reason
but now all I can really do is remember how good we were.

I try so hard to remember her flaws and faults: how selfish and narcissistic she could be. how her loyalties were elsewhere. how I was never enough.

but they don't compare when I remember: how she kissed me around strangers, and ran after my train every single time, just to be a goofball and show the world that I was hers. how she could make me feel better by just being there.

I try my best to ignore her but even if I don’t see or talk to her for weeks she’s still in my mind, always, because I can find her in everything.

I find her when I smell her perfume or see something from Nevada, when I eat Twix and ignore the word mhm and the colors blue and green. When I make mac n cheese and eat all of it. when I go to school and when I come home. and whenever I see a rose, especially if it's red.

I don’t know how people can give someone so much of themselves and then have their heart broken. I gave her pieces of me that I can never get back and I don’t know how to continue being Sammy without those pieces.
for my gel, who knows how to put us back together but could never keep us that way
Kate Mac Aug 2012
This is the thing about mothers.

They’re a blanket for so long. They make the best pumpkin bread and they do your hair too poofy and littlekiddish and they’re the ones you should avoid when you want to ask for something like going back outside after dinner or getting Reeses in the checkout line at the car wash. They teach you the harmonies to stuff like You Are My Sunshine and Amy Grant and they have the prettiest voices that sound like falling asleep with the window open. They’re M-O-M and that’s the only title, that’s it, so Mary or Baby or Somebody’s Ex or Daughter or Crazy seem foreign and wrong wrong wrong. You want to correct the speaker- Her name is MOM.

Then that day happens- you both give a real, genuine belly laugh at something. The same something. It’s startling and you like it but you hate it sometimes. Because you laugh more and more, and soon you’re getting Cranberry Limeades after the 8th grade play practice together everyday like best buds and she starts saying kind of bad words (like ****** and ****) that sound like she swallowed something wrong or they tasted bad (at least to you), and it reminds you of when you used to play “who can go the highest on the swingset,” and you tried to be brave but you had that feeling one day someone would accidentally go all the way over. And you keep on tripping over all these laughs that keep bumping you closer to her age and it’s like she’s coming closer to yours, too. And then some of those names people always called them start to maybe make a little more sense. Maybe they do look a little like a Mary, a little, only when they’re telling a story.
See, be careful though, because this is where things get tricky. Mary and Mom live inside the same body, and separating them out is dangerous because you’ll start to run out of room. When they go from Mrs. to Miss, for example, and their last name changes and is different from yours- you have to make sure you can still fit Miss inside that one little body. And worse, when the others start to use words like Crazy or Lost, who aren’t allowed in the same zip code much less body as names like Mom and Hunny pretty soon you’ll forget who you’re talking to and when you’re talking to Mary about your “first time” then Mom steps in the whole dynamic shifts and Daughter speaks up to say too much about Grammy’s drinking and Crazy leaves dad and stops making sense altogether with words like “new” and “change” and
“own person”.

So when they call to ask if you got the Valentines flowers, tell her they were beautiful and tell her you miss her, cause Mom sent those. And if you keep them on the line long enough and they talk about their fight with their sister or some thick, sticky gossip they overheard, it’s Mary, so respond accordingly. But they aim their fakesmilevoice at you (that’s just for the phone and church) and talk about “trying something new” or feeling like you’re the only one they can “bounce ideas off of”, clench your jaw and “mhm” and lay down so the tears don’t fall out. Cause sometimes Crazy just needs to wear herself out so that M-O-M can say she loves you, she’s so, so sorry and she misses you dearly. And that we’re gonna get through this, baby, we’re strong.

When you hang up, you’re allowed to cry some. That’s fine. Then you write a letter you don’t send (don’t dare, it’d **** her) and ask a few of them, gently, to move out.
sinderella Sep 2013
i'm like porcelain
easy to build
easy to break
easy to hurt

jealousy is my only sin
a pure love dedication
mhm, yes, baby, oh yes
you poison every
little part of me
but i like it when
you set my body free
it makes me crave
all that you have
all that you are

technically we are only friends
but you're in my explicit dreams
i think of you controlling me
and I get a serious thrill
poisonous lips
set me free
for this love
i would ****

take me home
let me be
your only one
love me through
the dark nights
the sunsets
the sunny skies
the storms
© sinderella.
Simple Jul 2017
we tripped
on the urge
to feel
KILLME Feb 2014
My self hatred
burns under my skin
my blood is poison
I'm danger.
This body is to narrow to start the concrete picturesque poetry

As a marvelous bright sparkling spring into the pitch black marvel stone
My poems are shallow water running out of time climbing backwards

Shanti dances, Shakti watches, I ride the glossy magenta mountain byke Elementally through the potentially ***** city, gulping two little
              flying                            spoons          ­            wwhhpp          mhm                                  ­    
Brilliant        IO Ag
                   Helth guarantieed on the nulth spelling positive not
Obtrusive politely declined           skipped          suggestive
Visually objective little pencil box down bellow
                                             friend    _ this is blank !

Absolutely! Absoulutely! A ****** stream of no perservatives no ***

Objecting flowery flunder opiates                           Words grow from
Barriers between insufficient gestures                  from human
Jazzy left ear leaving laments of sounds incapability to stay
Endlessly entwined and glued together as your soul loves
Tender tactile cats touch on your desperate desert sju++
                  Ave Gratias Plena Ava Gardner Avon Avion
  My throat is not of a managment made suits suiting suitcases
I'm Tired Of Fraternities Or True Females  Always  Ends  Well
Pendragon Mar 2017
So many feelings all at once. Why did I open myself up, why did I let myself feel? Everything always hits at once.
It's hard to tell my heart to keep beating,
my lungs to keep breathing.
I just want that peaceful rest. Conflicting voices raging inside,
stop beating,
stop breathing.
It's so easy to let go.
Heart torn between sputtering,
and hammering.  Dying out or overcompensating.
I hate this.
vera Jan 2018
“i love you.”

sorry, wrong number.
- thanks for trying
R Nov 2013
i walked into his room
asked if he had a minute to spare
he smiled and said of course
and then suddenly,
i got really nervous.
i started giggling all weirdly and
he started chuckling and asking, "what? what? whats
up?" and i said, "i have a game tonight and i can't play in it,
you should come and watch, you know, to uhh...
support us or something." and he laughed,
asked what time the game was at and said,
"ill be able to make it!" and i smiled so wide,
and i left while saying, "see you later and thank you!"
and he slowly said, "goodbye... goodbye..." all sadly.

don't be sad, i will see you later. we can talk in the stands
and watch the game together.

you make my widest dreams come true one day at a time sweetheart.
Phillip Walter Oct 2018
they tell me to
to allow things
to juuuuust
and I wonder
how iiiiiiii
because i'm not ready
to face the consequences
that might come
and I want it.
but not yet.
and I wonder why only I had to give
R Nov 2013
ive never been enough
even in my mind,
i fight to win the rival that
never ends.
the only things that bring me comfort
are Doctor Who and Lord of the Rings,
mhm... yes i miss you and that smile
of yours dear god, it is like heaven.
but, you see, ill never be enough
ive always known that.
neither the doctor nor the hobbit will
come to save me.

i hate being so dispensable
i feel so bad for my friends and my family,
they have to deal with me all the time
but i guess when im gone
everybody will grab a glass of wine.

cheers, shes finally dead.
(i say this all the time in my head!)

oh dear, dont be sad,
be glad,
shes dead and the
demons are gone from her
blasted head.

(can i make the same end-rhyme twice?)
Emmanuella Jun 2019
Today I put on that perfume
And it hit me
With a memory forgotten;
Sunken at the bottom of the almost empty bottle.
“Mhm, wow you smell so good. What perfume is that?” You had asked.
I’d been over the moon waxing outside. You had tickled my insides.
So when I’d spritzed that on my neck and inhaled that scent and that memory…
I was glad.
Glad that the bottle was finished.
Glad that there was nothing left to remind me of that moment,
Glad that as I tossed the bottle into the trash, I had, in turn, trashed the memory.
The memory sunken at the bottom of that perfume bottle.
A scent's arousal.
I heard the neighbor-lady through the wall, she said,
"... yes, mhm ... you don't have to ask me questions ...."
Getting hot, perspiring from the shirt, I hate
the itchiness and lifted up my shirt, There!
" ... I have to go ... I'll leave the door unlocked ...."
Then heard a shuffle, sheets and door hinges,
then maybe her step down the hallway.
An unlatched! apartment--I've coveted less--
this and all the pomp, pills, and condoms I've stole,
oh I was up already, zipped myself away,
making the way between diaries and ***** plates,
oh already up opening my door--you guessed?

The hallway was empty; I went right
and door 54, was it this? I put my weight
to it, fogged the eyehole with my breath.
Hand to the **** I turned and it opened.
Augh! The managers who've stopped me,
once I was even tackled by a security guard,
was handcuffed, was once called "heartless"--
if only every door opened like this.

I was shirtless still, in fact, my hand strayed
was raised to my breast and I kneaded
the skin and tugged the hair: I entered.
It was dark and I feared the honesty of light.
I had a step to the next and her kitchen
came upon me, I saw the shadows of her home.
I wandered further as if walking an antiverse;
someone else the same template.
I wanted to find where I lived in her home,
where I sat and heard her often call,
where I imagined she curled phone cords
or refused to snore now matter how hard
I pressed my ears to the wall.
This is it? This is her bedroom,
adjunct to mine, a wall to separate--
she sleeps here.
I've got breathlessness and my hand is groping.
Does she have a closet or dresser? I will see.
She calls a boy by name, is he coming?
When is he? Can I hide here, see him?
oh soon. I'll know too soon, too.

I open the door. And she is staring back.
Her hand against the wall, the spot,
where I rock my body awake from
nightmares. To reach through the
plaster and steal the socks. It was a,
a, a great shame to be so looked upon
so, an inanimate gaze like a mirror's
that maybe can't see me, dunno.
I want to move further, can't.
Can't say anything either.

— The End —