Memories

We belong
to whispers at night
                      drunken interludes
                and innocent occasions
                      in stolen shadows
                  witnessed
                     by strangers
                           in passing
            and only half
        borne true to life
images hidden
   pressed between pages
            of pictures
                    of a life
                once wanted
                    now unfulfilled
        vodka stained lips
           and Red Bull laced veins
    hold memories
barely contained
       by the silence in a seam
                                        time
                        spent in a dream
                          …Just you.
                      …Just me.
            and our pages
           have no names
our story ending
    forever left
           untold
                  just as a song
                        unsung
                has no lyrical home
       and a love
    never expressed
touches but only one heart.
                                As for you and I,
                        changed forevermore
               surface of skin
   to depth of soul.

Alive

I want to feel the breath
  from your body
            escape
                  in short fragments
      through the tiny slivers
    of space
      between my fingers
  so I can confirm
       you really are
             alive.

And your heartbeat…
      I want to hear the rhythm
    the thump
                thump
                       thump
                   as the valves
              in your heart
        draw life
    outward
             from the chambers
           towards
                             your arms
                 which I want
             wrapped tightly
       around me
     so you can confirm
                 that I really am
                         alive.

Whispering Wind

I like to listen
  when the wind talks
             because I feel
            that secrets
         are carried
               in the breeze
but sometimes
   it’s too hard to hear
       with all the madness
              surrounding
           the day.
Send your wishes
           into the sunshine
                 on the tail off
     a warm,
         eastbound breeze
I will put
     my ear to the skies
               and send a sign
            if your words
                     capture me.

Not a Keeper

I claw at my throat
but it’s no use
I still cannot
begin to breathe

Half a life
slammed shut
in a dusty book
and shelved
only for future
generations
to look back on

Saved
by only me
and me alone

You are not a keeper
of memories
nor my heart

Always easy for you
to throw away
people
places
and things

Still
it is unsettling
sitting curbside
with the rubbish

Reckless

Tiptoeing
  through hallways
     and down stairwells
         into basements
   smelling of pizza
 and lust at 2:00 am
        melting into his sofa
     watching his eyes
 devour her with
         hunger and desire
      as he looked longingly
   at the supple curves
          of her young flesh
        begging to be
        schooled in seduction
 his desire unmasked
by the glow
   of the television
       experienced hands
 traveling to destinations
     only imagined
            in his lurid dreams
        and his tongue
  following suit
      bringing her innocence
                  …to its knees.

Little Lies

We all have lies
we tell ourselves
to make everything
feel right.
To bury that feeling,
that shouting within
that tells us where we’ve gone wrong
when we’ve gone astray
or when we have abandoned our path.
That gut instinct that screams the truth
in the back of our mind
and can’t be quieted.
These things,
they haunt mostly on lonely nights.

To listen or not, this is our choice.

(February 7, 2012)

Restless Mind and Fleeting Thoughts

Empty nights
Yearning for touch

                                        People tire of such things
           Floors littered with “some days” and “maybes”

Captured hearts
and tender feelings

                       Writing in stitches fueled by emotion
           Waning fires eat gently at the crescent moon

Restless spirits
and bridled wings

                                  Passion stifled by boundaries
                             This is why the caged bird sings

Wounded dreams with
Yesterdays immortalized

                                Can’t fight passion with desire
                          Paint aching lips in lyrical empathy

Riveted eyes
left forever wanting

                             Walls never stopped stampedes
                         Such electricity could fuel galaxies


(February 6, 2012)

Loving Artist

You have painted
                      desire
    so beautifully
          on my skin.
Your fingertips
    making lovely brushes.
          Tools to share truth.
  Emotion easily spreads
      in colors and starbursts.
            Fluid lovingly glows.
My body is a palette.
           Your canvas.
   To mix
           and to blend
       with what you feel
   and where you have been.
Your experiences
          and your love for me,
    written gently on my skin.
You paint landscapes
      against my mountains…
  breathless and captivating.
         Longing
                   to be hiked
           by your skillful hands
         and ardent tongue.
In the dips of my valleys
  and rhythmic pulse
    of my natural stream
            you quake and peak.
Your deep brown eyes,
   both lustful spectators
       loving participants
in the art
      that you carefully create.
The cool shade of my shadow
      always offering
  a soft mound
       upon which you rest
                 your weary head.

(February 1, 2012)

I cannot seem to smile
and my skin cannot grip
happiness.
It’s fluid motion
keeps slipping through the cracks.
There is only dread
painted on my lips
and sadness bleeds
from this heart of mine.
I would close my eyes
and wish the pain away
but when I close my eyes
your eyes are all
that my eyes see.


(February 1, 2012)

Today has taken a toll on me.
These bones,
No longer whole,
Have been chopped up Into confetti
And tossed into the wind.
This heart,
No longer beats,
The pulse of a lovers song.
It has been crushed
By the weight
Of a million memories
Never to be relived.
These hands,
No longer warm,
Have turned to ice
From the cold ache
Of longing for your touch.
Today has taken a toll on me.


(January 31, 2012)

Just a Touch

Your skin
  is further from my reach
    than ever before
  yet here I am
with arms outstretched
  trying so desperately
    to grasp what is left
  with a feverish urgency.
I know
  that if I can just
    brush my fingertips
  against the surface
of your barriers
  I can surely reach your core
    and make you fall in love
  with me again.


(January 31, 2012)

At times,
  I lash out
    beyond reason.
Unspent emotion
  bottled up
    until it explodes
      with no immediate target.
A tongue like a dagger
  and words like flames,
I pierce hearts and skin
  with less than perfect aim.
It’s the ones I love most
  that my wrath always seems to reach.
I hate myself for lack of restraint
  and the scars that I leave in my wake.


(January 30, 2012)

Bitter Heart, Bitter Words

Anger bites at me
like bitter frost
on a winter day.
I should wear a scarf
and mittens
but I’d rather let the cold
seep into my bones
and turn my tongue
to a knife and cut deep
into that which dares to bruise me.


(January 30, 2012)

Pieces of Me

Lately,
  I feel my only weapons
    are words.
My only therapy,
  phrases turned
    and painted
  and woven carefully
onto paper
  in delicate patterns
    that move and breath
  forming a life force
all their own.

Each letter.
  Each word.
    Each sentence.
….A piece of me,
  ripped from my core
with brute force
  leaving me breathless
    and torn,
  adorned with emotion
and freckled with truth
  forming chapters
    of myself
  in tattered pieces
left scattered about
  in all of the places
    that I have been.


(January 30, 2012)

If I could paint my skin

with the kisses from your lips

I think that they could keep me warm.

I am chilled to the bone.

(January 30, 2012)

All Of You

Is it a crime
 to no longer want
  to hide
   behind these lies
    and shallow covers
     of discretion?
Am I wrong
 to want more
  of you…
   all
    of you?
Is it shameful
 that
  I don’t want to share?
You
 carry my heart,
  so delicate
   and warm,
    in the palm
     of your hands,
      and where you go
       my heart goes.
But sometimes…
 sometimes,
  you are gone
   for too long
    and you (and my heart)
     are too far,
      from where I lay
       my bones.


(January 26, 2012)

Entangled

Lately
I find myself trapped
in a web of emotion
so strong
and tangled
that even I
can’t figure out
what it is
that I need.
Want.
Should do.
A web
woven so tightly
that I am unable
to use thoughts
or words
to work my way free.
And so I sit
stagnant
and drenched
in exhaustion.
The sheer weight
of this web
is more
than I can carry
let alone
the force it will take
to untangle.


(January 26, 2012)

War Within

My body
is waging
a war
fought
in hormones
and tears.
Please make it stop.


(January 26, 2012)

That Faint Feeling

I can feel you
         slipping
   (between) the cracks
         of my fingers.
The sound of
   your breath
      gets    f a i n t e r
………the further away
   that you get.
         And your scent
      L
        i
         n
          g
           e
            r
             s
   so much lighter
         (than ever before).
I can feel it
   in my heart of hearts…
         -and in the pit-
            of my very soul.
You are on your way
… … . . out the door.


(January 25, 2012)

Wishes

I wish upon every star
   in the night sky
      that you will
   one day,
near or far,
   be only mine.
      I’m not ashamed
   to admit
that I search the horoscopes
   daily
      and weekly
   for a sign
that my wishes will come true.
   Whenever the clock
      strikes 11:11
   I wish for only you.
When stray lashes
   fall upon my cheeks,
      it is your heart
   that my heart seeks.
And the visions
   in my dreams,
      it’s true,
   are only visions
of a happily ever after
   with you.


(January 24, 2012)