Friday, June 12, 2009

Wrecked


with apprehension
dripping words
you haltingly perspired
emotions tucked carelessly
in bag under arm
suffocating empty love testaments
and furtive collected moments 
made tangible in print 
and forgetfulness 
you walked out of the door
pursuing rapture
I stumbled through apocalypse
to find solitude at the center 
waiting 
in crumpled steel and steam engines
I find myself still holding on
white knuckled to your voice

Gravity


Gravity is my enemy.
No, I'm serious.
I'm always falling
one way or another.
It has become difficult
as other aspects of my
handicap
become apparent
to decide which is more painful:
a cement face plant from 6 feet,
or the slightly lesser distance it takes
my heart to reach the floor.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Big Mistake


You're losing me
faster than time
slipping through your fingers
each second harder to hold
the grains
falling faster

Saturday, June 6, 2009

insomnia



I woke up last night
while you were still asleep.
I love these silent moments
when my gaze is free to wander
uninhibited in the night
in the shadow of your indifference.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Locked


I wish I knew
the combination 
of words to say 
and things to do
to prove myself to you

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Unidentified

You show up briefly
three blips on radar
a solitary metallic ping
and then disappear again.

We're frantic with math
and telemetry
backup data
recordings.

The only evidence we're left with
are three winks of a little green light
and your echo.

Palmistry


If palmistry were truth, 
fate would be etched in flesh. 

If palmistry were truth, 
our fingers would be omens.

If it were truth, 
when we held hands,
we pressed our futures together. 

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Masochist

Sometimes,
when I think
of you, I want
to rip open my chest
and let the sun
burn out my heart.


Saturday, May 23, 2009

Friday, May 22, 2009

Lines


when the call is lost
the wires cut
when I get disconnected
will the dial tone keep my pulse

Operator


Your voice comes out of darkness
whispered secrets 
modulated.
I’m wrapped around and upside-down
hanging on every word.

Push



I don't want to talk about it,
because I don't want to think about it.

I don't want to deal with it.
I don't want to look at it.

I can't have that elephant

pushed back through my aortic valve
into my left ventricle.

It doesn't fit in there,

it's too fragile.


Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Tabula Rasa











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