Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Airscape

Heaven holds a sense of wonder
And I wanted to believe that
I get caught up when
the rage in me subsides

Saturday, 26 November 2011

Misfit

Something. Something about signs,
and freckles in our eyes,
and mirror images.
Something breaks.
Someone cries, and someone wonders why.

-

Stay. I won't ask you to come down.

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

0621

I'll be right here,
ripping glass to paint your eyes on.
What brings you back to this place?

You know you'll never learn.

Monday, 21 November 2011

Thursday, 17 November 2011

Jean-Paul

You are asleep and I am awake at the most inconvenient of times. Then again, you slept while I stayed, held still by the overwhelming sense of you crashing into my world. Your breaths rattled me, and I shivered with a heady mix of fright and anger and bliss. I could taste your words slipping free from my diaphragm, forming perfect chords in the air. You told me to remember, to think of how it felt to sing from the stomach.

We kissed volcanoes while
you slept, hands held tight,
knuckles turned white,
the fear so alive,
you soaked the pillow as you cried.

The sunlight was a welcome sight. I felt time crawl along my skin, into the heated lines of the covers you pulled over your eyes to keep out the light. I stayed prostrate on the floor, electricity still coursing through me. The sound of your taste told me things will be just fine, but I crawled into bed with you anyways. You awoke with a start, and looked me in the eye.

-

And you said

"What a glorious morning to say goodbye."

-

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Culture

You are not my chameleon heart.
You cannot come and go as you please.
You are not the smell I wake up to anymore.
And it's a sad sad thing.

-

Sunday, 13 November 2011

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

20/20

We sat behind the glass, looking at the choppy waters cutting the moon into ribbons. You looked me dead in the eye and said "I can't do this. not yet. I don't even want to do this."

I remember laughing. You wondered why.

I look back now, and I chuckle at the irony.

Thursday, 3 November 2011

Died in Wool

Nothing's going to change that hopeless feeling I get when you say you understand, but I know you can't.

So throw away the love that we made.