Tuesday, April 17, 2012

this lack of conversation's silly
tell me, when will you come home?
it wasn't til you left this city
that i knew i could feel so all alone
and you know i haven't written
and i know you haven't called
but i thought you would've guessed by now
what i was thinking all along
so i'll just sit here patiently
until you come to realize
that our lives are ultimately better
when you've got me by your side

Monday, February 13, 2012

fall in love. fall i love so thoroughly and unashamedly that you pour everything you have into someone else. let them inside you so deep that they become part of who you are and who you always were and who you always will be. wrap your life around them. begin to plan major events with them. begin to plan minor events with them. begin to plan your day around them. end your day with them and begin your day with them too. watch them unfold before you and shine. plan the rest of your life together. watch them amaze you. watch them falter and love them anyway. then watch them falter and notice that it bothers you. watch them come home late and forget to call. watch them cancel plans to do something with someone else. watch them not remember to do the things you asked countless times. let it sit too long until you can't take it anymore and then explode in anger at them. listen to them apologize and forgive them and let them back into your bed. watch them make the same mistakes again and again. don't let it sit anymore, but point it out every single time, thinking maybe then they'll understand how they're messing up. argue your point when they make excuses. listen to them apologize and pretend to forgive them but don't let them back in to your bed. start to notice everything they do wrong. forget the reasons you loved them in the first place. intentionally make plans without them. avoid making plans with them, because then they can't cancel on you. see them less and less. go to bed while they're still out and leave in the morning before they wake up. start drinking. forget who you are as a person. drink more. watch them start to drink more. question whether or not you still love them. become complacent. stop waiting for them to ever call. wait until they bring it up and then tell them you need a break. feel a false sense of freedom. feel an empty pit in your stomach whenever you're alone. go out every night and drink to fill the empty pit. find yourself home alone with them on a quiet night. drink together. end up in bed together. feel connected again. wake up the next morning and wonder where you stand. keep busy for weeks and then fall into bed together again. repeat for months. keep busy and realize that you haven't seen them in months. wake up one day and decide you want to salvage what you had. be surprised when you discover they've fallen in love with someone else. feel betrayed. feel lost. cry yourself to sleep every night. try to find yourself again. become social. try things you've always wanted to try. go out with a few other people. become happy. continue to grow. every now and then remember them and cry some more. become successful. make new friends. look happy. feel happy, most of the time. go on dates with other people but remain unimpressed. plan a different future for yourself.  think about them more often than you should. miss them, but never mention it to anyone. wonder if you'll ever fall in love again.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

you feel tired, sluggish, full.
she hates that feeling, full.
you think back to the days when you always felt so empty. when empty was beautiful. when empty is still beautiful. it's a struggle that no one else seems to understand. it's a change that no one else can see. you have to hollow out this body. make it light, make it small. make it better.
but there's no response. you're a destruction zone, an internal war field. you're raging.
but why should you be?
no, you're happy. you're at the happiest you've ever been. right now, you have it all.
just keep repeating the words.
you have it all.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

a hush falls over the crowd. tongues tied in silent sudden panic. this feeling of awe overwhelms your senses, devouring your brain, sending shivers the furthest corners of your plane. you feel your body react, despite the summer heat, try to hide it, but your bashful cheeks spill the truth anyway.  how could you think this would be so easy? you wait your turn, impatient, but relieved for the extra moments to prepare. you wanted to be so clever, but now you can't think of a damn thing to say.

and so it's over, just try not to feel regret.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

you wish you didn't care so much. you wish they cared at all. you wish you had a better grip, you wish you didn't fall. you wish you had a smoother tongue, a quicker train of thought. you wish you would've said some more, you wish you'd done a lot. you wish that you could get it back, you wish for more control. you wish for things that are too far, you wish you could feel whole. you wish you didn't sit alone, at night with swollen eyes. you wish you would've asked for more, instead of just goodbyes. you wish it didn't feel so hard, what once came easily. you wish for a lot of things, you wish you could be "me."

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

the only time i miss you is every single day

you speak of stars and sand. uncharted maps for which you already know the path.

i speak of dark and cold sheets. broken compasses and faulty legends.

i'm alone here in this hotel, while you wander off into the world, taking notes and casting charm.

my words fall on drunk ears, eager but tainted. i make company with empty chairs.

you prefer seats that move and feet that take a risk.

i prefer hands that guide and somewhere safe to hide at the end of the night,

you say it's simple and i disagree

because i can't live the story when i've already seen the ending.

but we're the same you see.

we're infinite.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

the panic room

watch for the signs of destruction. nights spent staring out car windows. holding back sobs. endless streams navigating cheeks for reasons unknown. the satisfying feeling of an all-too-empty stomach. when hungry feels beautiful. slashing locks and infusing colors. change in pace, taste, atmosphere. drastic changes in habits. sudden unrequited obsession. needing more. needing more. needing more. nights spent alone, afraid, replayed conversations that never took place.

she doesn't have to open her eyes to know that this place is all too familiar. an empty room that looked so promising from outside the door. she thought he'd be here. well, he was, they'll say. yes, i know. he asked to stay, they'll continue, but you told him to leave. no, you left. or was it both? which way did it go? she can't remember exactly. it's the comfort of knowing. only, you'll beginning to realize you don't know at all. hands held in secret. but not in silence. an unwanted hush blankets affection in a smothering fashion. you won't submit to terms, so instead you sit alone with a stomach ache of jealousy and teeth turned cold in the grind. smokey familiar bass lines fill your head, leave no room for thoughts. you're always coming back to the same place, the comfort is the source. other's words seem more fitting than your own. as if anyone listen to the things you never say. and that was one of the issues, you know, the fact you hear what i say and not what i mean. can't you understand i need the fight? i need this to be worth something so i can be worth something. but you aren't looking for a challenge. you think you've let it go but you've got a state full of reservations. abandonment. a harsh, bitter word. it bit the ears, did it sting as it left your tongue? i feel sick at the thought that i could've hurt you so much. a boat stuck at sea without the wind, without so much as a breeze. accentuated vowels emphasize feeling. the feeling has to match melody, and the words dipped in wit. so many words, you see. when was the last time you had so many words? it's as if you found a lost locked box and self destruction is the key. the bass line gets louder, deafening all the naggings you don't understand. remember sunset porches? remember thunderstorms and mix cds and the first time you broke a heart? dried flowers wait by the bedside, forgotten only until you need to remember. this is usually when the box comes out, i still kept your letters, every one. i won't speak to you now, but i always miss the quick goodbye and deadly drives. anxious for the unknown. you don't understand the most important part you don't even know you're missing. the music swells, like a lump of words in my throat that i can't bring myself to say. this is it, i hope you know, there's no going back from this. it's what we were always working toward. 

Friday, February 18, 2011

Remember this:

remember when we unlearned and eager. remember when we had best friends with willing ears that listened to every tiny detail. remember when we didn't have access to a world of information at our fingertips, disposable and granted. remember when there was someone who knew everything about you. someone who's line was busy every time you called, because they were simultaneously trying to call you. when words weren't needed. when presence was comfort. when silence was enough. remember when we didn't need to tell the whole world everything all the time. remember privacy. remember respect. remember social rules and expectations. remember when calling wasn't desperate, it was flattering. remember when instead of texts, we had hour long conversations.

how can you see someone every day and still learn new details in every conversation? why can you find out more about someone's aura on the internet than in person? when did we lose the desire to share details in flesh but becoming willing to spill our guts in digital? how come you will tell the world but you won't tell me? when did secrecy become a standard?

we use, now, not our tongues, but our fingertips. a weapon once used for intimacy, poison has turned it into ruthless boldness. those fingertips that once traced collarbones and goosebumps have traded warm blood for cold plastic. the methodical clicking soothes a wanderlust soul. i look at you and you smile. i look again and wait for your attention to trickle back in my direction. i'd say it's a need for constant communication, but it isn't just interaction you're looking for - it's social justification, satisfaction, reaction, validation. ahh yes, there's the ticket. you need approval, reassurance.

we sit upstairs on the hard wood floor. i sit, you stand. you walk back and forth. you check and check again. i wait. you pause. i stretch and you move. i pause and you fill, unknowingly. i weigh and you wander. i ask and you answer. i let you speak for hours. you break, respond. i wait. you break again. i wait. i disengage. you continue. we fall off balance. i wait. you catch back up, or perhaps i do. i smile, you smile. we link. we move rhythmically. you break, we unlink. we restart.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

a modern light.

your breathing regulates. you sigh a note of contentment, the one you only make when you're asleep. you're so comfortable in my arms, and i can't help but feel like this will be the last time i'll ever get to hold you. i pull you closer, one hand tangled in your hair while the other traces words on your skin, "i don't want to lose you." but i daren't speak them. i know what you'd say, i have to go. this is my job, you know that. there are bigger things out there than you and me. and i know, oh god how i know. and i could never ask you to stay, even if that's all it took. just one word. stay. but that's never been my style and i suppose you'll find that out soon enough. i can feel your heart beat or is it mine? and i wish i could hold you like this forever, your weight on my chest, your body so trusting. instead i watch the clock, minutes pass and with each tick i prepare myself for the separation. i'd love to pretend it wasn't happening, but every beautiful breath reminds me of what i'll be missing. i only wonder, when the times comes, will you ask me to wait for you?

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

how does he smile? they ask and my cheeks are burning red.