...And in that moment there was only her and I
...And when I woke you did not mean any of the things I'd thought could only be found in you. My gravity has altered and now
I
float
free
but wondering:
which sun shall draw me in
with her
heavy light
If
and When
I will lose myself
in another soul again
(there are things within me
that call for things within you)
what'd I'd like to say is good job on that thing you did
because nobody could have done it
or would have even thought of it
at least nobody I know
who besides you would've taken the sun
and stretched into a halo
to keep your ears warm in the winter?
only you, only you
which is to say, I love you for who you are, not just your celestial earmuffs
in the road I stepped with
no intention of anything beyond
total love
like a stream of water that wears down an impossible rock
and a bird that flies through the greatest storm that can twist the heavens
if I am changed beyond recognition, it is only because I have changed along with you
every scar you've gained all these years, I've mimicked accidentally with a falling vase or misplaced knife
every infirmity that shakes your grip on life installed a matching crack in my house
but my foundations are firm, I have built on our love
out in the road, I looked up
had my gaze caught by the windy sky and felt grabbed
hooked around
and I realized this: that all love is a question, and death is the answer
now peace reigns, and I am your husband
oh my god
I didn't write a poem for class today
I didn't even remember what it was until I read the prompt at the top of the page
What's my problem that I can't take ten minutes to crap out some verse? or jot down a rhyme like this one, scribbled in class while Kort speaks and reads her poetry
you're so mean when you want to die
you say you're ready but you don't know why
don't you hide your pain from the whole wide world
Don't you miss the days when you used to swim?
with she and her, and him and him.
but the water has no beauty now, no faceted diamond glints
you don't think of anyone but yourself,
you're a bully and a **** and a beautiful person
when you're out in the light
It's a little sick the way you're so weak
and your weakness has everyone wrapped around your finger
even you
you let a black hole grow inside your chest,
if you don't block it out it'll eat your air
you will choke and die
like butterflies pinned open
or lit from within
I grasp at straws while pigeons crap all over the rooftops
this is a cafe scene
I have holes in my shoes, and 7 bucks fewer in my wallet
you've got a dirty look on as you answer yet another text
it's not much of a date, I'm certain
but like butterflies, we are perched here for the world to see
snipped out of our meadows, car exhaust preserving us
I am going to try and put this down
I am going to be the scribe to do this shit
I am going to take a keyboard and a blog and pin down my emotions, the fear of the trap, my instinct to burn burn all the old away
I am going to make you understand the sickness I feel when I think of staying where I am for one second longer
I am going to do something drastic and beautiful that will blow the thoughts of the people that know me open for a second before they start to close again
I am about to thrash and kick in my computer chair and dash outside in a desperate attempt to escape, before I slip on some ice and freeze to death
I am going to do this all as soon as I can get myself together, I know it, I just know it
I am waiting to stop waiting
Looking for the strength to proceed at full speed with eyes clenched shut
Trying to find my voice so I can sing the world into adoring silence
Figuring out the proof needed to convince my math teacher and everyone else in the world that I am unique and favored by God in my uniquicity
Struggling to see beauty despite the struggle that's always with me
Happy to be happy even though at night I'm sick with lonely
Taste-testing every girl I can get to agree, so I can find someone to take my virginity and hand in an eternalish vow of unnervingly strong love
Freaking out over stupid shit like a fear of falling from small heights.
I am about ready to give up
So tired I am leaning over, not quite capable of sitting up straight
And I am yearning for a love and a place to live and a life that's my own
And an eventual peace
A smooth brow at last
Before this too-old heart in this too-young body decides it doesn't want to beat any longer without the kind of reassurance I am waiting for
it's pathetic and nasty, but
i can dedicate this poem to a couple different people
because i was going to write it to have the message of, "i want to be your lover"
which is the primary reason for art
but still
there are a few of you that make my legs weak
and my tired face pull into a smile
and i'll tell you what i want to happen
i want to move away to another city far away with you
and we can drink tea in a hidden café
walk back home along the docks and the warehouses
up into our attic apartment
all one room, so we're never alone when we're both home
and then we could lie down in bed, kiss, and make love
then talk, or just be quiet
read awhile in the afternoon light
then i could get up, and fix us a snack
some spanish rice or stir fry or such
then we could sit and eat and write
or do what the world says need be done
but way up in that small warm room, we're the happiest of anyone
you & me are the happiest of anyone
if I had to choose I guess I'd say that my main problem is a lack of contentment
but I don't want to write about that, and I don't think anyone else wants to read about it
the emotional struggles of a middle class white boy in America
I don't know what else to cover, though, that isn't soaked in the oil of cliché
too many poems have been written on depression, or the love-pangs of adolescence
and not much of worth can be added there
on the other hand, I just wrote a poem about writer's block
which has been done too many times to count
this lack of new material, this is what it is about
the reason poets snap their pens, and authors divorce their muses
I could die right now
My heart could give out
Or my brain collapse
For I have felt the sun
And I have eaten fruit picked from the tree
I have loved and been loved
And most of all I've accepted the fact that I won't ever do 10% of what I want to do
but that's okay
I know lovers will cry,
but I've cried over people too
and seen months without a light at the end of the tunnel
so they should be alright, I've made it through myself
But can I survive so well adjusted, so early?
Am I not a sitting target for smiling death?
someone that won't even fight it?
I don't think I want to die
i went and kissed you
just after school
and you smiled and hugged me
said "i've been waiting for you to do that
all afternoon"
i don't know how to tell you how beautiful i think you are
the way your hair shines in the sun
or the way that you smile that just melts my heart
you make life seem realer, and i'm glad you do
because sometimes it's just too washed out and colorless
for me to tell what i'm supposed to do
or endure
can you spend every moment with me
i get cold and so do you
maybe we could be cold together, or even keep each other warm
i'd hold your hand and try to think of things to say to you
while life just moved on quicker than ever
with both of us just walking on the side
I've been looking for somebody just as broken as me
And I mean that in the best way possible
And I found you, so see the above sentence
Take it, turn it over, put on the lamp
Look at it in a new light
We are both ridiculous, which is why we didn't work
But I love you and I lust you and I need you till it hurts
And that is Alright, that is Just Fine
I can still sleep at night
if I had the guts to open up my arm
and reverse-engineer the blood in my veins
I would strain out the gold and the god and the love
and separate them each
put one in a little jar here, and stopper the other up in a bottle
put the last one in a little cloth sack, and stash it under my bed
then I'd take a map and erase all the names of the places
and fill them in with the names of all my friends and loved ones I forgot or left behind so long ago
I could get on my bike and know where to find every one of them
I'm gonna crank the volume knob as far as I can make it go
see which blows out first, my eardrums or the speakers
and then forget what they said, about how I have to obey
I'll chase the feeling of deciding my own future
"You will work you will work you will do nothing but work"
but I swear I will make a difference, and work for myself
because I'm young yet and can chase whatever feeling I want
and fill in all the blanks with my own answers
Riding through the night with soon to be friends of mine
we play the music too loud, or none at all
just love and don't kill and smile when they spit in your face
that's the best future, that's our own future
my first breath after the coma was like a leap out of the sea
plunging into the atmosphere, first time in forever I decided to pump the air into me
suck it in, blow it out, suck it back in again
my first sight after the coma was the dappled afternoon ceiling
then blurred eyes shifted falling sideways down to you
close my eyes, open them again, close them, open again to you
first scent after the coma was the perfume of a flower someone placed close by my bed
small and pink in a little porcelain vase, perched on a shelf, to the left, above my head
breath it in, smell it all, breath it out, breath the smell in again
the first sound after the coma was you walking over to me
you couldn't say anything, just smiled and touched me
but it was louder than words, louder than music, louder than silence
first feeling after the coma was the love that was there with me
If all there is is to love and be loved
You did better than the rest of us
Because I'm sure Jesus hugged people, or would've
Maybe they didn't have hugs back then, idunno
But you did a really good job
Like, a really great job
And even if you didn't believe, you were better than the rest of us
because you did it right
I mean, not everything, no, you messed up here and there
but not like in the big scheme of things
otherwise I probably wouldn't be crying
I don't think any of us would be
But you did good and you will be missed
For love and hugs and smiles and so much more
And I'm writing this without even thinking if you're watching
And I'm sorry sorry sorry but you know I love you still
and we all will. always will.
I got the heebie-jeebies, and I know now why that's what they're called
they feel like that.
you shiver, as they crawl up your spine and down your arms and you flap in the non-existent breeze like a stupid stork and uhh
feel the bugs crawling on you and you can't help your thoughts
sometimes it's easier to believe that there's no right or wrong way to act, until someone does something wrong
you just don't want to be the one to do it, and oh god
the heebies and jeebies
get off of me you bugs
