Saturday, August 23, 2008

Elizabeth: Reprise

Every time I drink words run like a river from my limp lips. Maybe they're the tears that my eyes never shed, maybe they're the thoughts I thought were dead. I don't know anymore. Maybe you would, if you could. If I could say...I don't know maybe I would know. I love you he said, she said nothing, maybe I don't know. Or maybe she doesn't know and hope is worth waiting for, but under these orange street lights everything is "No". I hope I don't know, I hope she doesn't know. Every time I drink words like this run like a river from my limp lips, my finger tips tap clumsily away above my loose hips. I think that maybe they're the tears that my eyes never shed, the words left on my tongue...dead. I don't know maybe its all in my head, swimming from bank to bank, wandering across deserts, unprepared I'm wandering hurt and fake; drowning in front of you in your lake.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

On Falling

People try to figure out problems like me, to draw a diagram of something simple, something we can all understand, so you’ll all understand. So you can say I knew it all along. So you can say “this is your song”. That bird doesn’t sing though. Not songs for you. They asked me to take a pencil and write the last time I felt something, they gave me “safe” and I gave them nothing. I sat there staring; a revelation surrounded by one hundred others. I think some of us are always falling. Like at the start, we were pushed from the nest before life taught us to fly.

Dark Days Came

Spill and shatter into the street,

Like broken light bulbs,

Fallen from grace, fallen from right

From the light

Crushed like so many paper cups,

Water cooler talk for the caffeine hogs,

Emptied and pourn out, and left to be destroyed.

Falling tenderly into graves.

What women will weep,

When we’ve fallen into the streets,

Into the streets

Morning

Passing out like no one ever saw,

Turned into your shadow,

Drawn into my shell,

My hell,

I’m out of my head.

In through the window,

Green, gold, and white,

Come to wash the dark away,

Replace it with light,

Wind chimes and birds,

Sweet breeze and words,

Make me forget those yesterdays,

Make me remember today

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Refugee

When all the beauty is gone and only ugliness is left, I will ask where have all these sheets gone? Where has my youth gone? When this contract is aged, and the sex is done, where will you be when we’ve all gone wrong? These dirty sights, they’ve all treated you just the same, sides split bleeding on the street, and I’ve come to leave here; to leave me. It’s hard to speak, when you have no words, when every syllable is a trap in a stall. I say jump to the road side, we’ll lick our wounds, leave all the sheets, in the streets, and they’ll be gone. We’ll run away, if only you could see it. I wanted love, you wanted it all. Forget it all, let them sit on their gawking throne, seeing nothing at all.