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wounded Sep 2013
it's how much i want you
how much i need you next to me
on top of me, under me
or touching me
in any possible which way
it's how much
i crave to taste you
to have your flavor
upon my devilish lips
my saliva dripping
from salacious skin
it's how much
i yearn to hear you
either in conversation
or releasing impassioned moans
breathing heavily
in sync with me
breathing sound sleep
or just… breathing
it's how much i desire
to smell like you
as our bodies ephemerally swirl
to stifle scarlet passions
to awaken a fervid lust
for symphonic sighs
as i free the melodies
by striking your chorus
with my benevolent baton
it's how much i wish
to gaze upon a silhouette
radiating sultriness
as it loses itself
viscerally against me
it's how much i ache
for your ravishing kiss
it's how much
i'm already addicted
to it
wounded Aug 2013
i swear i saw
an angel pass me
on the road

she stared at me
as though i should
follow her back home

i followed that
warm feeling
to a place
i didn't know

now i'm lost; and incidentally
wise to the fact that
chasing falling angels
leaves you cold and all alone
wounded Oct 2013
i felt a shock
when my gaze
shifted into
your electric
green eyes
and my gut
as a devilish grin
spread across
your oval face

your words
slithered up
and down my
spine like a
thousand serpents
prepared to strike
at the first
sight of weakness
but i couldn’t keep it—
from stumbling
out into the limelight
it must have been
the highlight—
of your day because
i stuttered and
your words sank in
and dispensed
your venom into
my stream of innocence
and i just haven’t
been the same since
wounded Aug 2013
there is no one to anticipate
the joke with by making out
together to the punch line as
it becomes the long goodbye

no one willing to participate
in a conversation about what
kind of tears those are to get
caught in a lover’s body bag
wounded Aug 2013
i have a wonderful friend
who darts about in the sky
her little wings kiss the breeze
she must be a butterfly

oh james you got it wrong
silly foolish rhyming me
she’s certainly not one of them
my friend is a bumblebee

they tried to put her in a jar
oh it was a terrible place
but she’s just about to escape
headed out to outer space

ah but they can’t hold her back
she’ll be leaving really soon
the first bio-molecular geneticist
astrophysicist on the moon
wounded Feb 2014
call me in the empty of night
call me in the selective mutism of light
call me in the secrets of locked rooms
call me

call me in the candlelight of long soaks
call me in the freeze of your greatest scare
call me in the grace of your effortless achievement
call me

call me what you like, what you want to, need to
call me in the full stops of the dead ends that meet you
call me

call me in the eyes of a close friend
call me when you think you see the end
call me when you're ready to begin again
call me

call me in the woods of love's mystery
call me in the darkness of the wondering
call me from the cliff edge, blind to the sea
call me

call me in the eulogy of your youth
call me in the last words you're holding back; the truth
call me

call me in your favourite dress
call me unclothed
call me in the mirror
when the world looks over your shoulder
call me

call me in the photographs you left me
call me in the dream figures waiting to embrace
call me in the first line you wrote to me
call me

call me in the aching of the distance
call me in the bird short by starting pistols, raining feathers
call me in the ****** hands of trying
the frothing mouth of drowning
if you call me
i will listen
wounded Aug 2013
it hurts to breathe, to think, to be
stop this carousel, i can't play
it's hard to fly with tearful eyes
and i don't feel anything today

diamonds dahlias daggers and dust
i wonder i do, is anything real
this crazy calliope carrousel ride
sometimes makes it hard to feel
wounded Aug 2013
clouds are so very much like people
coming in all colours, shapes and sizes
arriving, departing, passing by
sometimes clouds are full of light
and sometimes they just need to cry
wounded Sep 2013
the air swelters
as i remain static
and my chest
has become the shoreline
where the sea of your breast
heaves in and out
in a vicious tide
your impulsive moans
are the roar of waves
as they crash against me
but your rage lulls
into a sensual surf
the fluid undulations
let us fully appreciate
the carnal curves
of protruding skin
the untouched stones
smoothened on my strand
and the floor of your ocean
yet you pacify even further
before your waters still
and rest calmly
in steady breaths
on my elated sands
wounded Nov 2013
we are not the
embodiment of beauty,
despite the way
quips dance with
my vagary,
or how
our bones are trophies
built from the
same bits of shrapnel
from explosions,
forged by hands
who never learned
how to fashion empires
out of anything
but fragments,
we are much more
than beautiful,
we are
isotopic, enigmatic,
we’re magnetic and
we are
the sum of all things,
a compilation, a mosaic,
we are a
memoir of the universe,
we are fate,
we’re algebraic,
we’re the intersection
of two lines
without a destination,
when i follow the trail of
up your spine,
i find the root
of my
wounded Oct 2013
they say gravity
is the force of
exerted by a
celestial body
upon objects near
it's surface

but you
are nowhere near
my skin, and i feel
miles turn molecular
when your words
move through
me, like electronic
particles teasing me

i want to whisper
lullabies to the
backs of your
(tell me what
that means)

you say you
want to be in
arms length
of my clumsy
to watch my
mouth when i speak
memorise the shapes
it makes

i say arms length
may still be
too far
i want palms
pressed together
i want to hear
the beat
of your

if you
drink wine
from a cracked bottle
you get your poison
and battle scars
at once

and if that's what
it would take
to kiss you
dear girl
consider it
wounded Aug 2013
today i've no need for anything
you're everything that i desire
you returned my missing smile
of you my heart could never tire

i never believed that i could find
someone so lovely falling for me
i guess it's true that love is blind

i love you more each passing day
forever a doubter but now i'm believing
you're everything and so much more

my heart is home
it's never leaving
wounded Oct 2013
i am an assemblage of broken promises and abandoned dreams, of bruised tissues and faulty organs, of poisoned blood. i am part sky and two parts ocean, the moon clings to me and i to it.

i am concealed by a sheath of milky skin, a sad and slow smile and fading eyes. i wear my clothes like a suit of armor, hiding behind cotton and polyester as if they make me invisible. i am not strong, nor am i wise. the years have taught me this time and time again.

i fall for cheap escapes and bright lights even though i know i will soon hold them accountable for my impenetrable sadness. i have built walls, brick by brick, until my body became an enchanted fortress. there is a moat around the circumference of my heart and be warned the alligators are trained to ward off trespassers.

i am the past that i cling to and the future that i fear with every ounce of my being. i am fleeing every place i ever step foot upon. see me now.

now i am gone.
wounded Feb 2014
dream while life snores
skip the words for pictures
believe that every rise of a wave
will deliver you to the sky
think of her like that
when she says she's back in town
believe that every ride
will take you closer
to the exit
so much in fact
that you cut across
the oncoming traffic

fall while hills rise
cry all through the summer
ignore the warning signs
and write your own
while doing 90 in the fast lane
taking photos of the same setting sun
for the billionth time

follow your heart
into dark caves
destroy or devour
or test the resilience
of every good person
in your life
count every change of direction
as a diversion
from your future

but always do
what a don't do sign
person or poem
tells you to do
wounded Aug 2013
what of the dreamer
who dreams no more
can he simply recycle
buy more at the store

the bold pirate prince
with the blushing bride
sailed away long ago
on a pale moonlit tide

the old white knight
tears burned to dust
fear replaced chivalry
his sword turned to rust

the surfer boy as well
is he now gone too
they’ve left everyone
the dream died with you
wounded Aug 2013
desperate young guns and wannabe nuns
clever, cunning, running for their very lives
ever wracked with doubt, there’s no way out
no one wins and in the end no one survives

little lambs lost, prophets sleep with profiteers
to our unknown unseen gods we blindly pray
it’s time to choose, when you snooze you lose
can we not find a more sublime game to play

society’s tools, writing rules followed by fools
criticize and cry, our sighs but a silent scream
beneath empty skies, all fall down for little lies  
please play if you must, but i choose to dream
wounded Oct 2013
she splatters verse
like paint into her poetry
and i am hypnotized by
the ebb and flow of
her imagination
swinging in and out
of rhyme or reason
each line a brush
stroke of her mind

and i swear that she is
built entirely of words
stretched across
her bones, her skin
an ink stained canvas
and that if i listen close
i can even hear
as they slowly spill out
with each sigh and
each exhale, bound together
as a completed document
and i watch in awe as they
dance behind her in
the cool night air and
follow her back home

and i am slowly learning
the vocabulary of her body
of the hidden stories
delicately tucked
like random notes
between her
flesh and bones
and i am slowly learning
that her heart is
an ancient epitaph
that holds more value
than even she could know
and once i heard
the lilt of her laughter
nothing else ever mattered
and i knew that between
her creased pages lies her soul

and that, that is the only
place i have ever wanted to go
wounded Aug 2013
greetings to all my wonderful friends
wordsmiths romantic, eclectic and bold
you touch my heart and make me smile
much love to you all both new and old

i promise to bring the love and laughter
some strangeness and a bit of sorrow too
thank you for sharing your words with me
and for kindly letting me share with you

life my dear friends is a game of love
beauty and blessings too many to name
you lose every time that you don’t play
yet each time you love you win the game
wounded Aug 2013
the tighter and more desperately we grasp
trying to hold, control or even own
someone or something that isn't now  
and quite possibly was never ours
the faster and farther away they'll fly
to find the freedom we try to deny
wounded Oct 2013
you drape your wrists over my shoulders
and pull me in a little closer,
and now our hips are slightly touching
our silhouettes dancing across the window pane

(our breaths are sharpening
and quickening,
our heartbeats are synchronizing
and stuttering,
our feet are stum-stum-stumbling
as our bodies slowly start to sway)

you whisper “i love you” softly in my ear
and graze your lips across my cheek

(leaving a trail of wildfire
kisses, set torches to skin,
a blinding flash of pearly teeth)

you taste sweet of white zinfadel
and i a hint of cigarette smoke

(i am drunk off of intoxicating love,
as you press your mouth
against my throat)

and i am etching lustful verses
with fingernails and curses
digging words, desperately,
down the length of your back
and we are slipping into love
as though that’s all there ever was

(and we are lost,
and we are found,
and we are lost,
and we are found)

and i am getting lost
in the heart of your forest eyes
and i am, i am, i am screaming:
"this, this, this is heaven!
and i am never—and i mean—never— coming back!”
wounded Aug 2013
i want to capture your pain in a jar
all of it, keep it locked up
like some exotic animal
that must be admired from afar

keep it next to my bed
and late at night when i can’t sleep
press the glass against the side of my cheek
imaging it, my pain instead

but sadly it isn’t that simple
for as hard as i do try
to alleviate your pain
it seems, i make barely a ripple
wounded Sep 2013
if i could paint like michelangelo
your beauty is all that i would draw

if i could carve you out of marble
venus de milo would blush in awe

god was definitely on his a game
when he graced the world with you

angels peeked then hid their eyes
unaccustomed to such a lovely view

in you they’d see their imperfection
and fade to a pale and envious green

picture the most spectacular sunrise
or a lush and lovely tropical scene

i’ve searched to find a lovelier vision
but clearly nothing could compare

my love, your enchantment has no rival
a flawless diamond would be less rare

your beauty defies my feeble prose
your lips sparkle like the finest wine

shakespeare’s pen could not describe
the joy i feel in knowing you’re mine
wounded Aug 2013
the late radiates calm
the stars reflect evenly
on it's mirrored face

he dips a toe into cool indigo
seduced by soft ripples
he slides between
folds of liquid silk

legs extent to seek the bottom
but they stretch infinitely
in a black hole

the shore is light years away
and he drowns
beneath the cold glint
of the galaxy
wounded Aug 2013
your skin is my obsession
your heart my most precious treasure
your lips alone can quench my desire
your touch what i most crave
your ******* elixir
your scent nirvana
your tender love my eternal addiction
and i admit i am powerless to resist
wounded Sep 2013
i want to exchange this keyboard for you
instead of hitting keys and making spaces
my hands should hit all right places
instead of looking at letters across the screen
stare at your eyes and read you like a poem
instead of sending messages across miles of cables
my words would slip of the tongue and soak into yours

i want you here next to me
so i can stop writing prose through my fingertips
and use them to caress your face
so i can stop wrapping words in poetry
and wrap your body in kisses
so i can stop thinking of sexetry
and use my mind in ways that bring you ecstasy

i'm sick of writing poetry for you
so come here and let’s drop the words
line breaks and punctuation
let’s stop writing for each other
and let ourselves carry the message

let's stop writing poetry
and live it instead
wounded Aug 2013
i’m eight and pretending
heaven still exists and
refusing to think that
hell is being defined
right outside
my bedroom door
as a vase breaks
just like a marriage,
as a scream blooms
just like a bruise.

i am eighteen
and kneeling in the shrapnel
of too many shattered dreams
hands clasped and knee caps red,
just trying to convince myself
that god doesn’t have to be
someone else
that flowers never fly
but somehow, they still grow enough
to always try
wounded Aug 2013
a little bird sang to me
i paused to hear his song

it seemed he had not a care
i couldn’t stay for long

i would love to be so free
to sing my song all day

i long to be a little bird
and simply fly away

high above the sadness
effortless on the wind

just one small part of it all
a freedom without end

my wings are oh so fragile
i’ve never dared to try

i yearn to ask that little bird
can you teach me how to fly

i fear he’s already gone
will he return tomorrow

still afraid to soar or sing
much to my everlasting sorrow
wounded Aug 2013
homeless beggar orphan child
belonging nowhere and to no one
damaged goods bent and broken
hidden scars too dark to see
and yet their pain is all i feel
almost made it once or twice
first runner up a thousand times
remaining a ****** bridesmaid still
beaten bloodied and long retired
my heart heavy but not quite numb
seeking a light within the darkness
questioning only if and when
this lonely dream will ever end
wounded Jan 2014
i speak to the night and she always speaks back
lending me whispers and words to rend my weaving thoughts
in that moment between dreaming and sleep;
the one that lasts a life age
near the precipice, the one that undesirably breaks you free
ever so slightly
and then suddenly (maybe)
rips you away from the world that melds the real
and unreal
the true and the false
the dream and those harsh undreamt realities
that exist in all times, but never seem real when you’re free of their clutches.
we are one, we are all connected
our synapses are linked, our electrons shared,
our every thought a memory,
shooting through space like lightning
and written in the stars on our darkest of days
wounded Aug 2013
you ask me again if i love myself
i answer only that i know i should
if you already know why isn’t it so
that one i’ve never yet understood

so what’s your plan until you can
what exactly are you going to do
i’m not sure, but this might work
perhaps i can learn by loving you
wounded Aug 2013
her lovely visage shining softly down
on display in every billowing cloud
while gently the early morning breeze
whispers her name among the trees
the ocean mirrors her cerulean eyes
her smile adorns each vibrant sunrise
though gone away for several years
she smiles brightly through my tears
and comforts me in my deep despair
for i still see my angel everywhere
wounded Sep 2013
her smile spoke to the world;
nothing will ever be okay again
i found instant beauty in this,
as if those lips fit perfectly
in the palm of the past –
the last of the romantics,
marching onward,
remembering –
the fallen
wounded Nov 2013
she was
freckled, laughing morning
when the years were still beyond
a stretch of the imagination.

she was
winking, beaming daylight
when the moment was held
by the gaze of an eye.

she was
melancholy evenings
when forever had passed,
slipped through her fingers.
wounded Aug 2013
the words have all been spoken
shh my love, make not a sound
your eyes have told me everything
as my heart feels much the same
in the silence, holding you close
our forever lies but a breath away
wounded Sep 2013
i will eagerly experience
all your fifty-four flavours
but in this moment
i'm only in the mood
for neapolitan
every inch of surface
melting with the graze
of my tantalized tongue
guided by the tempting taste
of your vanilla-scented skin
i candidly drizzle
chocolaty syrup
onto your milky mounds
before i suckle the center
and tease the cherry ****
tenderly between my teeth
but i'm in the highest hopes
for the strawberry flavors
especially after the fruit
has been sufficiently savored
by your luscious lips
(both pairs of them)
and covered copiously
in carnally-compelled cream
by a duo of digits
or maybe three
until you sensually scream
wounded Aug 2013
somehow this happens every time
it’s confusing and i don’t know why
each time a friend fights back tears
i join in with them and we both cry

i’m certain some would find it odd
that one might play this curious role
and while it does little for my facade
oh the wonders it does for my soul

teardrops are aspirins for the soul
wounded Aug 2013
it hadn’t happened in a while
but i somehow found my smile today
i don’t know why
nothing changed but everything
nothing changed that i could see
everything was just the same
though somehow all was right again
for i had found the missing key
nothing changed in the world of men
but i discovered beauty deep within
when at last i remembered
the answer was me
wounded Aug 2013

if you’re up there out there anywhere
if you’re somewhere listening to me
if you’re compassionate, if you care
the children need you, can’t you see

will no one sooth their fearful tears
childhood should be a magical time
yet for many it delivers only sorrow
is innocence now somehow a crime

god please forgive this foolish man
i know there’s much we cannot know
but still one thought disturbs my soul  
why must the little children suffer so

it seems cruel to have the little ones
endure hunger, neglect and disease
i’ve asked for little, but this i request
take care of the little children please
wounded Feb 2014
each morning brings nothing;
this is good. a gift often

in this quiet
i am neither here nor there;
dead, alive;
have never existed, never wanted
made movement whatsoever,
let alone
lifelong mistakes.

until it wakes, makes it move
and as if forgotten
in morning's thoughtless air;
how easily silence, like a ribbon,
slips from fingers, unspoken hope
to the floor.

and all of the everything, giant-high
as the space between blanket-lain bodies
and a starry vast sky,
is louder
than the knife of goodbye,
as fatefully simple
as the universe apart
by paper cut.
wounded Apr 2014
endlessly, again & again.
overflowing, a fountain
of heartache, desire.
words erupt like lava
from lips, soft as petals:

these words are beautiful.
simply said, elegantly whispered,
unassuming as snow.

they are as paper before ink.

it is only once we think
that they start to sting:
spider bites, bee stings,
a mosquito ******* blood
as a lover may suckle on your *******.

i do not need to be filled with warm coffee,
with soups, salads & sustenance,
with your tongue & your fingers.
i do not need to be fulfilled by anything
save your gaze:

a moonbeam that shatters my freckled skin.

i simply crave your words of adoration,
and your sleepy, contented smile.
wounded Aug 2013
words laced with rancor
hurled in anger
wounding deep
with hurtful intent
neither finding the way
or courage to say
i love you, I’m sorry
can we start anew
destined it seems eternally
to spending endless wasted days
shared together alone
wounded Feb 2014
you open your eyes and the next twenty-four hours
are building into a cluster of storm clouds above your head
and all day you are convinced tiny pellets of the coldest rain
are falling from the ceiling, the sky, from anywhere really
but the weather forecast proves you wrong
still, you know it is coming, looming in the distance
and you would sooner believe your heart as a mechanical machine
than deny the inevitable onslaught of the malevolent future.
the mirror is chanting of your insanity,
your eyes of your deterioration
and you aren’t blind, you know what they’re seeing
and you aren’t deaf, you hear what they’re saying
but you swear the world is melting all around you,
colors drooling and dissipating in a matter of seconds
and each inhale is a pinprick and with each exhale you are deflating
but nothing is noticeably different, not really, at least,
except today, all of your ghosts left their graves
and are standing on your doorstep, ringing the doorbell, incessantly,
and today, you are expected to spend quality time with them, face to face.
wounded Aug 2013
i sat silently neath a sighing moon
and nearly made a wish upon a star
but sadly they've nothing to offer me
as stars can't take me where you are

we were perfect once upon a time
now all that remains is a jagged scar
i'm sorry doesn't change anything
but i'll forever love you from afar
wounded Oct 2013
the sun was blood orange,
dripping murderously into the
periwinkle sky, the trees were
angrily shaking their fists at
passersby, shadows looming
on the ground beside them.
the air seemed to vibrate,
abuzz with swarming voices
of the past and i swatted at the
sound in hopes that they would
not blast through the silence
i was sheltered in. it was the
end of something perilous yet
beautiful. love bit the dust almost
as hard as when it initially sank
it’s hungry teeth into the hull
of my heart, and no matter
how far away i ran
from the truth, it would pop
up in the window reflections, or
on the side of an expensive car,
staring me dead in the eyes
and i could not face
it—at least not yet—
i ran until my legs
betrayed me, no amount
of space could save me,
i just did not have a choice.
a ringing sounded
in the pit of my ears,
and when the clamor
cleared, what was left was
the remnants of your velvet
voice, drowning out any
and every other audible noise.
wounded Nov 2013
what are you doing to me?
these marble figures
crashing at my feet
like chips of flint
begging to catch
fire, to catch a
breath of air
but my god,
my lungs
I ask

what are you doing to me?
permeating stone and
teaching me what it
is to bend, when I
once stood my
ground and
said, you

and what are you doing to me?
your feet are padding around
in the dark tunnels of my
temporal lobe, hanging
lanterns where lights
went out in storms
of crazed chaos,
and don’t you
know that I
am often
a ghost,
( don’t
you? )

what are you doing to me?
I feel the sun’s light as
it shines into my rib
cage, and I find I
am drunk from
this warmth,
and I ask,

what are you
doing to
wounded Sep 2013
what if there’s no light at the end of the tunnel?
   then i should call it the world and build my nest
what if you wake one day to find that God doesn’t love you?
   then we should part, like the sea, only to meet again
what if everything you’ve built up doesn’t make a home?
   then i shall find the voice that settles me
what if you’re caught not knowing the difference between blood and bone?
   then i will live, never again being afraid of the pain
what if you wanted to believe, to believe you could be happy?
   then i know that if i search, i will find it
what if you wanted to be free, free from these earthly trappings?
   then there will be no binds that define me
what if you just keep swimming upstream?
   then i will find my way back home to her
what if you’re just living a dream?
   then i'll dare to dream bigger, and raise the curve
what if her ebb knew your flow?
   then synchronicity would taste so sweet.
what if there weren’t any inches left to grow?
   then define me by my grip, not what i cannot reach
i've spent all winter waiting for this spring
   i say, gather your strength and bathe in the rain
i've kept every river from spilling out of these veins
   i say, open your floodgates all the same
i've been waiting for years for what you’ve come to bring
   i've been shedding my skin and dreading this day
this ebb and flow won’t be the same
   let the stars forever guide us
no, it won’t be the same…
   let our words stand head above silence
no, no, it can’t be the same…
   let our failures teach lessons, timeless
your ebb and my flow won’t be the same
   let us divide these lands, poetic manifest
wounded Aug 2013
in fear we fail
we fall down
skin our knees
and cry alone
hurting ourselves
and others
such frightened children
we’ve become


who can say
what we truly are
children of something
so much more
puzzle pieces
perfectly placed
in some eternal
grand design
who can say
what we might become
who can stop us
if we dare dream
wounded Feb 2014
i had a dream we were holding hands in a blockbuster video store.

everything was made of wood.

i had a dream we drove across country
and stopped at a bridge to stare at the sky.

your hair was brown. your hair was draped over the passenger seat.

you held my hand again like you meant it.

i was a window for your fingers.

i was something else while you pointed at an airplane
and stretched your body to it.

you thought you’d never get so far.

i hung out in a mall parking lot while you became the stars.

when i woke up the longing still wasn’t gone.
wounded Aug 2013
today i've no need for anything
you're everything that i desire
you returned my missing smile
of you my heart could never tire

a life that's better than a dream
i never believed that i could find
someone so lovely falling for me
i guess it’s true that love is blind

i love you more each passing day
forever a doubter now i'm believing
you're everything and so much more
my heart is home it’s never leaving

— The End —