Hearing the fuzz of the static between the lines as you laugh nervously: It feels like waking up to a child who has found your acrylic paints, who is brushing hasty strokes of posey on your cheeks -
Like half-heartedly composing your poise on a river rock, holding your center, knowing if you lose your steady, you have to fall,
Fall into something that feels like first breath of air you breathe when you step off a train, knowing yesterday is gone, knowing the person you are now is ready to embark.
Why did you have to leave me with one unforgettable night?
Like a flicker of lightning that flashed the night sky.
A kiss landed on me like a butterfly, momentarily, then fluttered into the distance.
We wrote short stories on sidewalks towards an unknown destination.
A book I barely got to start.
You said you thrilled on adventures, you told me you had seen places that had blown your mind away and yet you were here with me.
Was I capable of the same ability, if even for an instant ?
and i’m trying to not write your name,
you never appreciated my rhymes
maybe that’s why your name doesn’t rhyme with anything.
and i’m thinking of someone new,
someone better than you
i swear just one more drink then i’m through.
and i’m out of my mind,
head over heels for someone who’s not even mine
and once again i’m forced to leave you behind.
and your name makes me sick,
you’re such a
and i’m beyond over you and your heartless tricks.
and she makes me feel like i’m in heaven,
thank god you showed me hell
thanks to you my swollen heart's getting well.
i realize it all now but it’s too late,
you’ve already played your promiscuous game
thankfully she told me she loved me and stayed.
(god, in five minutes so much has changed)
it's a vicious cycle you see...
collecting hearts to mend your own
Yellow lit talks
Beside a borrowed car
Empty parking lot
Underneath the stars
Three feet apart
We mindlessly converse
About nothing and everything
Prolix and terse
You render me breathless
My ghost lungs deflate
You exhale the stars
And I respirate
I am so tense
With minutes too swift
Too late; you’re gone
My hands must have slipped
I think I'm over you
Don't think about you as often as I used to
I've moved on
a rainbow appear
I know I will be fine
I hope you love me just a little
And think of me in the afternoon's
I was sitting on the black stool,
next to her bed
she was elevated into a sitting position:
waiting to be fed,
I seriously thought by now,
She would have been dead:
Her fragile body, the determination,
Of the outcome of her life span:
makes her seems untouchable:
first born,, walk in
with a grin on his face,
his thoughts was similar to mines
She should have been dead by now
Small conversation, mostly about politics
His fruitless marriage and memories;
Of her teaching him how to tie his shoes lace,
a contemptible, socially inept person. In a suit
I should have dress her in her black dress
to match his suit, it would have been effortless
with the struggle of getting her into it…
I remember HIS question
Did you voted for Trump?
Why not asked how is my mother doing?
Did politics seem to matters most to him,
Or her wellbeing: In such a vegetable state?
I took a few steps down the corridor.
on my way back his visit was over:
tops five minutes
To him she is worth only five minutes of his time:
a contemptible, socially inept person. In a suit
she sang at his wedding, she taught him
how to ties his shoe lace,
she lay upon the bed with a tube up her nose
Waiting: for them to rain on her grave
When I look into the moon I see the only dependent part of me that still exists. Its as if the silence in her vocal cords spoke words of solitude. I gave her the only bio mechanical part of me that mattered.
The gears in my chest keep turning like clock work.
I count seconds into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into days. I keep thinking time is standing still while im still standing still.
I'm waiting, waiting on patience and as unjustified as it sounds I'm impatient. Dreams are just your natural thoughts heavily sedated, a sub-conscious reality based off the feelings we cant display them.
I don't consider myself a writer, I see the constant flow of words and as a kid it left me inspired. I'm more of the sub concious reality type. I drink coffee and outside of that I really don't have a life.
For me writing is self exspression without being judged by others.
I opinionate my feelings and organize them in ink. The papper is my empty canvas, my thoughts are my judgment, and the pen is the deliverer.
Sometimes writing is the only thing that can stitch my wounds, like the words curved inside my brain penetrating like the needlesof a tattoo. I wonder what will become me, in what paradox will I redeem the sum of me?
I just hope this bio mechanical heart ticks away. I hope people continue to be people with different mindsets and open steeples. I want love to be found and dreams to be created.
Me spilling out my brain in thirty minuets.
Rise and shine,
Time to start a new!
Or as you could say,
How long till you go your way?
I'll be lucky if you don't start crying, whining or lying about your everyday work.
You could've found better but it's just the beginning so of course it's gonna have it's qwerks.
Barely the middle of it and I can't take ****.
Just take it down and trust me, it'll be real quick.
Quick, here's a tip, don't try to give lip when miss is sick of your trip to this 15 hour shifts cause you can't take a hint that this ain't it your gift or your payment, even though you've been ripped and played and yet you wonder why we shame your decisions.
Oh and don't worry, I'll be here contemplating when Daddy comes home and think, it's just his beginning to an end.
See you tomorrow cause it's the end of just one day.
Don't try to make a profit off of side jobs and self made companies.
Despite the screaming in my head,
The tears in my eyes
Is what I said
"I'll be there in a few minutes..."
Then I put down the phone
And ran into the street
"An accident" they'll say
The perfect plan.
The average person lies four times a day,
The most common lie is
your hug is like
that blood pressure gauge
- that slowly inflates
to check all my vitals;
or a dash charging socket
for all my circuits & bones
- twenty minutes -
for the battery to be whole.
cupping my feet on cold days,
and breathing into my toes
because these socks have too many holes.
And on any day, you swivel me up
when I run into you for a no reason hug.
starting to forget how it would feel
to not have access to these tiny luxuries.
Waves and minutes hasten to their end.
Childhood crawls to maturity and then ends
Times gifts with ragged hands gives and removes
but not the treasures life has stored,
this summed up in one word; love.
You've been offline for 16 minutes
I could have said it, but I didn't
I had it written, but I didn't send it
I'm kind of a coward, I'll admit it.
I couldn't fit it in a space that I thought you would read
I had a tendency to ramble when you listened
or pretended, and in the poems that you've never seen
it's just as bad,
I go careening through a bending path of bramble
tryna scramble to the point
but I lost you
neck deep in the prose that arose
around a metaphor packed to the brim
with condescending tid bits
where I use your words against you
but a heavy weight that sits
over it all, when I lost the only friend I can talk to
so let me spend the next half hour
showering over you
another lesson in epistemology
honestly I don't know how you could be
so dim to miss what I've put in to this
Do you not see how wrong you are
Does it bother you
To have every miss step
pounced on and deconstructed
I was talking down
just to knock it through your thick head
but I guess I ****** it
I'll just have to say it angrier now
Let me spend the next two months convincing you
whatever you had seen in me was through a lens
I didn't deserve to be seen through
All it took was losing you to see
I'm exactly where I should have ended up
I know that no apology
will unwind the web I spun. the web I sit on now
to watch what I've undone with my own hands.
Hands that even now subside in fear
of what I'd hear then in your voice
when you reply
to let it die
So I'll let it die
This one isn't too dense so I don't think it needs much explanation.
perilous are those decisions
you haven't yet made
afraid of the seed the tree
questions its own validity
inconsequential are those thirty minutes
before a decision
the wind moves the branches without
the tree's choice
forgiving are those moments
in bed asleep beyond not here
the tree can't spot failed saplings
without the daylight which lets them grow
quickie #1 is the start of other quickies which may might maybe not probably this is the only one possibly could come quickly soon later now often somber; quick. eeeee
I'm running out of time
And the clock is ticking fast
But I'm trying to erase
All the damage in my past
I'm running out of time
And these minutes never last
But the darkness that I face
Is the shadow that I cast