for all the things he did wrong
he had got one thing right
but a pile of mistakes didn’t add up to a win,
just like two wrongs don’t make a right,
wait, they do if you want to walk in circles.
can we all spin this down the drain
and wash it away?
he had looked up to the sky
to ask the winds for a breeze
but they remained silent,
as did the trees.
they had nothing to contribute
and so they kept their metaphorical mouths shut.
he looked to the ground for an answer
but it said nothing either.
everyone was silent in his world
and yet his thoughts were raging on.
if only he could silence them to hear what was being said,
too many voices,
too many choices left him paralyzed and angry.
he would want the best for them
but not for all
and if he couldn’t find any peace
how could he possibly care for anyone else’s peace?
it was an impossible task
that his heart just wasn’t up for.
so he gave up
and brought up the finger.
this would solve no problems
but it made sense in that millisecond.
it made some sense in this crazy idea of a box of a life.
so he made rash decisions
and ignored the consequences.
there’s a fine line between Dobler and Dahmer
stalker and obsessed,
it’s all about reciprocation,
sexual harassment versus sexual pleasure.
it’s a fine line and a lot of thin ice.
fire and ice
burning ice and stars on fire.
stars that light up the day
and change the night sky.
she can taste forever in your kiss.
white picket fences and four solid walls.
it’s an image that flashes from time to time
but never felt safe.
but if you don’t kiss her
and you won’t look at her,
then her safe is gone.
if you won’t let her hear your heartbeat
and hear your smile when you talk,
then where does she rest?
if she gives you forever
and then you wall yourself up,
what does she do?
does she make other plans?
does she pick up the pieces?
it’s hard not to start the clean up
as a mechanism for making it through.
“if he doesn’t want me,
then I didn’t want him anyway,”
Snow White says to her empty household.
she pretends she wanted to do it all
and not need anyone.
but the truth of the story
is that she’s too afraid to show the cracks in her smile.
if she continues on like a busy bee,
then they’ll all think she’s fine
and this is what she wanted all along.
it’s easy to take what you’re given
and pretend it’s the only thing you wanted in the first place.
big scary words,
be the kid that’s the grown up.
be the one who’s heart is just fine beating on it’s own.
the silence is becoming deafening.
“does she have a pulse?
is she breathing?”
does it matter?
she’s always been fine.
no one needs to check on her.”
the clock ticks madly on
but the temperature in the room drops,
the air becomes cool,
her skin becomes ice
and she slowly goes to sleep.
there’s no problems when you’re asleep.
there’s no questions
there’s no mistakes
and no fears.
sleep sweet princess,
it’s all you’re good for.
I want to have more of you
more lazy Sunday’s
and productive Tuesday’s.
slow as molasses Monday’s
and wild drunken 1:30am Saturdays
I’m not sure if eight days a week would be enough
but alas as the winds blow,
the temperature rises,
and I’m hopelessly watching your face
sunrises and sunsets
waves continue to crash
and the moon keeps its shape
I shall settle for snippets of you
and slivers and tablespoons
here and there
if that’s what you’re offering
I’ll take a pinkie to hold
and a split second smile
to keep my soul warm
if even only for a minute
if i love
and you love
but we don’t love each other
what are we left with?
can they go unanswered
and can we go on?
can the dreams be big enough
to be just out of reach
what are you craving
and what melts your soul?
can you hold up another
if your grip is faltering for yourself?
a life and death split second decision
that change the course of history.
can you even see them
as they fly by?
if no one notices,
did it even happen?
if you burn enough
do you become numb to the pain?
do you become numb to the joy?
is it a fair trade
no pain, no joy.
it’s even, right?
did that breaking make a sound
or can the whole world hear as well?
do you want them to hear?
silent games of charades
and guess the mood,
is getting old.
find those eggshells
and quietly walk across them.
don’t wake the sleeping dragon
or he’ll bite your head off.
throw them all in the pile
and light it up.
the myths, truths,
the heads of the pasts,
watch it burn
and hope no one becomes a ghost to haunt your future.
if love and lust are sitting in a tree,
are they kissing or having sex?
are they polite to one another,
and asking how their day is
or is the electricity between them too intense to contain?
do your fingertips have a purpose
when they brush across the daisies
or another being’s flesh?
if your soul can commune with the universe,
then what is your body doing?
is it here to fill the space
or be a vessel for some other mastermind?
I need you.
all her training has taught her
to keep this feeling
six feet deep is deep enough
for this secret.
how many songs teach us:
hard work let’s you climb that ladder.
your heart is breaking
and I see it on your face
but you can’t mend those wounds.
you’ve ripped the stitches so many times,
you don’t feel them anymore
I need you,
she whispers in her sleep,
her subconscious fights with her voice box
in the daylight
but as the sun sets
her resolve dwindles to a simmer.
it’ll stay on the back burner.
just this once
her transparent features help her out
when the words fail her
I need you,
she whispers in the dark,
the fox and the hound
chase one another in the night
can they be friends or remain enemies?
I need you,
as her hands falter at the zipper.
she’s trying to hide her heart and soul
the rules are tearing at the seams
that keep her stitched together.
those lines on her face are from smiling
but is that smile real?
she desperate to break out
and break it all.
if it’s in pieces, it can’t be broken again.
she’ll keep whispering since no one is listening anyways.
she could fight the winds
and fight fate,
but what’s the point?
if destiny calls,
do you answer?
I need you,
she pretends it’ll be enough,
that she’ll be enough
to make him stay.
maybe she burn herself
so no one can burn her first.
words are like a hot brand on her skin
but enough layers will hide those scars.
she speaks casually
as if nothing matters,
because nothing matters
then why is she clenching her fist?
if only love really could heal it all
and change her past.
if you walk the red light district
in the daylight,
is it the same?
enough lies stack the day
and the game is won