Thunder

Let me tell you something.
I have opened my mouth
to a great amount of nothing
and gotten everything
out of it.
We have gotten
everything
out of it,
you and I
made a song
out of each others' synapses
and they called it
The Symphony of Loneliness.
Yeah,
We were trite like that,
Made of small packets of sound bytes like that,
Quiet
Wasn’t even in our vocabulary
So I said go ahead,
Bite down on my crazy
Suck the marrow clean out,

Listen
You are motorcycle handlebars
I hold on for dear life
When I should just enjoy
The heat on my legs,
The thunder in my hips.

When did you start thinking
You could hush my percussion?
When did you start thinking
You could pirate my calm?
When I said, “hold me baby”
I didn’t mean at bay.
Say what you want,
But you will never
Haunt me enough
To wish you back to me.
Your teeth
Were the size of terror.
Your bite
Was the sound of heartbreak.
Break your gaze on my fist
Take this, so you will remember
That when I said buy me a ring,
I didn’t mean leave ringing in my ears.

Honestly.

You still make me shiver
with your hands full of quiver
and your teeth full of shake.
Make me feel your ocean
and bury my head in the sand,
but you will never
comprehend
how to silence
the song in my bones.

Ruth

(another short one today...)

My wrists have your name

Carved into them,

So that your lips

know where home is.

X marks the spot.

Pieces

I could not stay and

watch you go to pieces, dear.

I am broken too.

Seismic (WIP)

A quick blurb to keep me honest... I'll play with it soon. For now, enjoy what I have found within myself:

You cannot hold the seismic quality of my laugh; any attempt to do so will destroy your concept of heartbeat. Of Heaven. Of Hell. Of healing touches and tongues across teeth. Beneath every wrinkle are treasure maps. Reach out and pull my lapse in judgment out; do you doubt the strength of my belief, just because I do not say "in Jesus name we pray" and pray directly to my Father? I have walked farther in these coccoons than you have in your monsoons and my grace has never been considered from the wrong season. There is no reason for you to grip my laugh so tight - it is anchored in my windpipe so it does not blow away.

Shiver

You still make me shiver

with your hands full of quiver

and your teeth full of shake.

Make me feel your ocean

and bury my head in the sand,

but you will never

comprehend

how to silence

the song in my bones.

Seasons of Love (WIP)

You remind me of sunflowers in the summer,

You remind me of snowflakes in the winter,

You remind me of birth in the springtime

And in autumn, you remind me of falling.

Hard, and fast.

But sometimes, slowly.

Staccato.

Keystrokes on a piano.

I have never been wise enough

To play an instrument,

But if I ever had the talent,

I would serenade you

With an entire symphony

Because my voice will never carry

Enough

Of our memories to the table

To make this any kind of Thanksgiving feast.

I don’t want you to eat my words.

I just wish that you would listen.

Just listen.

Crack

It hurts too much to talk about.

But let’s talk about it anyway.

See

The way the light hits you

Is like

too many whiskey sours

Like

hours behind closed doors,

Like

sharing one word in common

With the floor

CRACK

Can mean so many different things.

My body

Remembers singing

Yours to sleep,

Holding your breath like a promise

To my cheek

And knowing

That we could

Exhale.

The fumigators said

That the air was too toxic,

Said there was no hope of recovery,

The carbon-monoxonated atmosphere

Was beyond repair.

Get out.

Get out

Of my bloodstream,

Let the flood waters recede.

I am a tree

That was immaculately conceived.

I have no roots.

Nowhere to go.

Nowhere to run.

Nothing to hold me

While you bark hard

Against my bite.

Light hits our thighs

Like an afterthought

We could not recognize each other

Through the hot and the bother

The hot and the shiver

Take my teeth

And sink into this.

I can’t do this anymore.

Crack.

I can’t do this anymore.