Soft and sweet
My dreams tell me that I am mortified, petrified, terrified
Angry that the former continues to torture me
Powdered paints, oil, and fingers put my thoughts on canvas
I heard once that geniuses choose green
I saw once a lie in your eyes
and too much of my color breeds anger.
Would you take me anywhere?
Stop.
Awake for 48 hours
Asleep for 24
with warmth and touch thrown somewhere amidst it all.
The russian sings
"An incurable humanist you are. Let's go to the movies. I will write you a song about nothing at all."
She sings
"An incurable humanist you are. Loveology. You-ology. me-ology. kiss-ology. stay-ology. please-ology. Let's study. sit down."
Teeth cleaned
red paint above my scarred eyebrow
just like my brothers.
And my mother, oh my mother, ours is a tragic story.
Can you help me forgive it all? Forgive her, and the former, and myself?
Please. stay.
My dreams had no color last night, and they were not lucid as usual.
I have no control of wandering eyes or nervous hands
Dogs scream as the saint walks throught the door
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
Firsts
This cold is making me bitter.
I lose a little hope, a little faith everyday
I consider myself an optimist...most of the time
But days like these, days where all good is lost,
days where a baby crying tests every ounce of patience in my body, days when someone I hardly know asks me to wear myself thin, days when the woman who carried me dissapoints me once again...these are the days that my faith in love slips away. I consider myself an optimist above all, but sometimes I just can't feel it. I find it difficult not to curse my fate.... But enough of this whining...wait, love is still here, dwelling in me. My love is in Portland, in Chicago, in Denver, in tiny hands down the block. I BEG YOU please don't stop loving, if not for your own sake, then for my sanity. Show me how true you can be. I'll tell you every night.. This is my adage, my motto; please hear my cry. NO LIES. JUST LOVE.
I lose a little hope, a little faith everyday
I consider myself an optimist...most of the time
But days like these, days where all good is lost,
days where a baby crying tests every ounce of patience in my body, days when someone I hardly know asks me to wear myself thin, days when the woman who carried me dissapoints me once again...these are the days that my faith in love slips away. I consider myself an optimist above all, but sometimes I just can't feel it. I find it difficult not to curse my fate.... But enough of this whining...wait, love is still here, dwelling in me. My love is in Portland, in Chicago, in Denver, in tiny hands down the block. I BEG YOU please don't stop loving, if not for your own sake, then for my sanity. Show me how true you can be. I'll tell you every night.. This is my adage, my motto; please hear my cry. NO LIES. JUST LOVE.
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