I wrote you a poem
in the middle of the night
when the stars weren’t there
to guide me
and I needed a light.
With the turning days
I find our hands fit tighter.
When the wind burns in the distance
I no longer reach for a lighter;
I create for your beauty,
in case the doves decide to leave us,
for we aren’t lost souls —
we are the builders.
We are the giants in a tiny world,
raising the sky a little higher
with each breath and each kiss.
When we were little we played
in rainstorms. Little boats racing
down streams of blood and bone
as if the water could wash away
hospital beds and chest tests.
Now I’m older and the rivers dried up;
with thoughts of a change I stay awake
into the early morning light,
to hear the roof begin to bend
beneath the onslaught, and I
pray the footsteps in my chest
will fade away.
There are some memories we play with
in the smallest minutes of the night.
There are some memories we hide
underneath broken bed springs.
There are some things we walk with
and some things sleep with.
We have nightmares in our heads
and thunderstorms in our eyes.
We flash in brilliance. We flash in fear.
We flee in the darkness.
But we never escape the crash,
the break; the clouds upending.
Will we survive. We will survive.
Why didn’t you.
Will you dance in the shadows
as the sun sinks.
Will you sing to the birds
as the morning comes.
Will you cry in the evening
as the fire dies.
Will you laugh, or smile,
in the dark.
Will you live in the past
as tomorrow comes.
Will your heartbeat echo
in the vacancy.
Left hand waving in the the afternoon breeze,
she waits. Holding her breath. Letting her chest
rise with the wind. She soars, screaming.
Take my wings and let me fly
for I am not afraid to die
I only wish that when you lie
tell me first so I can try
to live a simple truth in spite
of this twisted love
my heart will buy.
Left hand waving in the afternoon breeze,
he walks. Holding his breath. Letting his chest
fall the ground. He cries, screaming.
I have no answers.
I spoke no lies.
I stole the world
but you would not buy.
So instead I leave,
please do not cry.
You are an angel
and I, a fly.
Left hand waving in the afternoon breeze,
they run. Holding their breath. Letting their chest
fall to the ground. They lie. Oh, how they lie.
Do you ever smile.
Do you ever stare at the sky and feel the nighttime reaching around the world to squeeze out the sun.
Do you ever think the blue sky is too bright and the clouds are too white; the sound of children break the quiet and you know your teeth are fading.
Do you ever look through a window and see a mirror. A cracked and splintered image of a person waiting for someone to come fix the looking glass.
Do you ever lie to your neighbors about your week. The busy schedule of clients and friends, of the parties and adventures while waiting for long weekends.
Do you ever sit there and turn the music up, or down, with the slow purpose of listening to your heartbeat against your ribcage. Maybe just this once you’ll feel a change in the way it makes the rain patter against the roof.
Do you walk the streets after 12 without a destination in mind. Just wanting to feel the earth moving a little faster. Time passing slowly as your feet walk in mud and concrete.
Do you ever watch the waves crashing on the shore, the wind rushing through the trees, the stars falling into darkness.
Do you ever listen to a car crash into a truck on the highway miles away.
Do you ever lie in your bed and think of the world passing outside your window. The lives of billions more important than you.
Do you ever fall asleep to the thought of tomorrow being better than today just to wake up and realize that tomorrow never comes. It’s always today.
Do you ever smile.
Do you ever jump into the ocean on a hot day and feel the hug you’ve been waiting for all week.
Do you ever stay awake waiting for that phone call or text message and just when you think it won’t come, it does. Nothing fancy. Just a few words to let you know someone is out there.
Do you ever cling to the covers in the morning, when the frost is peaking through the window and your feet have decided you’re going to be late for work.
Do you ever wind down the windows as you drive, feel the cool change hit, the clouds shift, and the rain come crashing down.
Do you ever stop the car and walk the last five miles just to relish the sound of your feet enjoying the journey.
Do you ever think that today won’t last long enough but then you wake and it’s today all over again.
Do you ever smile. You do, don’t you.
I’ve stopped being sorry for all my soft. I won’t apologise because I miss you, or because I said it, or because I text you first, or again. I think everyone spends too much time trying to close themselves off. I don’t want to be cool or indifferent, I want to be honest. If I love you at 5AM, I’d damn well rather that you know I felt it. If I love you two hours later, I’ll tell you then too. Listen, I won’t wait double the time it takes for you to text me back because I don’t want to. I don’t care enough to be patient with you. I’m happy, you made me feel that way, don’t you want to know? So that’s how it’s going to be. I’m going to leave myself as open as a church door. And I’m going to wake you up before the crack of dawn to tell you that I’m fucking joyful, no pretending, not from me, not ever. Would you like some coffee, would you please kiss me? Here, these are my hands, this is my mouth, it is all yours.
I promise not to half ass the pain away
when the day is raining with no sun for days
and I am missing the touch of your hands on my face.
I only wish to be alive to hear your laugh
as the dust twirls around outside our window
and the leaves are mourning yesterday,
when blossoms bloomed beneath their love,
and they sang the sweet melody of life.
The truth is I don’t know
what love should feel like.
Each day I wake and stare
and think, ‘yep, this is it; this is love.’
Then you move. You sigh.
A smile dances across your red lips,
a butterfly lands on your eyelids
to fall asleep and
I know I’m wrong.
Maybe I’ll never know the answer.
Maybe I’m not supposed to.
Maybe I’ll keep falling, keep flying,
expecting to hit the bottom, or the sky,
but never realizing
it’s endless. You’re endless.
It is with the morning light
and the echoes of last night
playing tricks on my body
I find your smile
hiding beneath my teeth,
biting my lips,
demanding I wake
to something better than
I look for words when the clock strikes four
and the whistling dogwalkers echo in the distance;
calling out to loved ones, they pierce the night
of a blue universe not yet turned black
by the fading sun.
I look for the shadows lengthening as I walk
from house to house staring in windows,
counting the smiles, the bruises, the lies,
the futures of neighbors I grew up with.
Mars rises slowly above me.
I look for the mud stains on carpet as the door closes
on my home. Shadows flickering in the grey dawn
I walk the stairs with heavy feet,
leaving red footprints turned black, grey, white,
in the morning light.
I walk past three doorways as the hallway fades
into shapes of yesterday; red race cars and blue gowns decay
as my fingers trace handles in the wood.
I sit and lean with my back on white and sigh
as the sun leaps out and lights my fight
with ghosts of you and our family, out of sight.
Give me a glass of iced water,
lips red in dancing firelight,
wind rattling through leaves,
a lightning storm on the horizon
and the chance today will be our last.
Give me these and I will show dreams made true
by the thought of unquenchable love
shared between myself and you.
But we have been known to lie,
known to dance when walking is needed,
known to fall deep into darkness when the moon rises
and fall into meadows of green when the sun sets.
Truthfully we need no almighty tapestry
painted high and low on a canvas of gold.
We only long for the last, the living, the pure
ecstasy of a soul made whole.