faith

Your beauty shines into my heart;
it warms my soul though we’re apart
(we aren’t)
I know my words aren’t big enough
to hold the sky, the world, our love;
(I’ll try)
you are the perfect kind of dawn,
when colors sing and air is warm
(you’re life)
you’re when the words fall into place,
you’re the sun’s light on the moon’s face
(at night).

This love is all, is all the strength I need to stand.
Don’t let me fall…but if you did, I’d understand.

And every angle of your face
reminds me we’ve got to have faith
in us.
And every moment in your eyes
makes breathing worth how much we cry
(we love).
‘Cause everything I am loves you;
we’re strong enough, we’ll make it through
(we are),
we’re living faith, we’re the first kiss,
we’re nature’s gift of perfect bliss-
I love you.

This love is all, is all the strength I need to stand.
We cannot fall, so long as we are holding hands.

I know my words aren’t big enough
to hold the sky, the world, our love;
(I’ll try).

pathetic fallacy (working title)

Oh God how I wish it would rain,
would just pour,
for days it's been grey and damp,
but I need more;
I need torrents of empathy
flooding the Earth,
as my heart floods with You,
floods with all that you're worth.
I need dark, looming storm,
furious, heavy cloud,
darkened sky, screaming wind,
soaring, roaring aloud.
Newspapers over heads, headlines
dark, running ink,
planes stopped and trains slowed
as newborn streams gladly slink
past crowded doorways, cramped cafes,
brimming with tears,
fallen from unaware coattails
or from cold ears,
I need streets shining soaked, but
not lit by the sun,
sparkling under street-lamps,
while figures, dark, run.

Yes,

what I need now is rain,
hard and heavy as pain,
rain to drown out my tears
'till I'm with You again.

broken

I understand the full impossibility.
I understand a difference in direction.
I can comprehend if you don't feel this.
But do you have to be so damn okay?
So calm, pre-mediated and objective.
While watching as poor small me falls apart.
Pathetically broken and soft-armored,
laughably lost, longing for long lost life.

Sobbing into shirts whose scent won't hold.
The sunrise which you smiled at hated me, & left me cold.
I need you here, need to run far from you.
And all I'm left to cling to is the future which holds either.

I am broken.
This has broken me, in every single way.
Left here cycling through sleep, sobbing, sickness, & decay.
Falling out of love with the world, while you thrive with each liberating day.

fragments

"You know what we said about the U.S. and S.A.,
that feeling, like opening your own front door, arriving home?
That feeling like a dull discomfort when you're
somewhere different, a distant, nagging tension
that is more like a lacking than a presence?


A sigh in your mind of relief on walking
through the gate,
then the door,
whether it's arriving home,
or landing in a homeland,
or."


"From the slanted gap of the blind and the wall,
the sun sneaks in, lights up the thumbtacks in my wall
like little stars,
a constellation just like ours,
and just like every other detail of beauty in this world,
it reminds me of us, of where we've been,"


"I know I eventually have to stand up,
and stop crying, and dust myself up
for however much acting.
But I can't seem to pull myself out
of this heap on the floor,
see getting up means leaving something behind"


"No words.
None that you haven't heard, anyway.
And they won't change things no matter how much we say them."


"Can't write.
Can't eat.
Can't stop crying.
Can't become anything more
than a heap of not us,
sobbing at its lacking on the floor."


"limiting and forced
stroll around my mind,
tormenting me,
while more fish in the sea
laughs itself dry."



It was just a world hard to leave,
hard to walk away from simplicity,
even if artificial or temporary.

But you are the real world, we are.
And that will not change,
even if we at some point evolve.

amo te

obliviscar

amarem te qualis uxor,
sed unus verbum atque,
si vester votum est,
obliviscar.

sick note

I feel like writing a list of symptoms;
"please mister doctor,
I can't look at myself in the mirror,
I can't look at her self either,
I can't even think,"
I can't even find my way around my own thoughts,
my own state of mind doesn't feel quite like mine,
my music and I aren't getting along,
reason and nature no longer singing my songs,
no longer anything solid to stand on,
and can't move on.
From this thought, I'm running around in a circle
of trust which can't rust,
a love which can't change,
I don't think,
but I can't think at all,
I can't sleep,
my head hurts,
and I feel like the water's so deep
all around me, above me, below me, between;

and the one lifeline I have is around my neck.

"so, doctor, now why don't you tell me what I should do next?"

debilitated

I take this necklace off at night, I always have.

I used to take necklaces off at night because of something
a grown up once said about the dangers of strangulation.

But that isn't why I take this necklace off.

I carefully unclip that beautiful little physical reminder of
you as a part of me every night because
I am scared that it might break.

And this reason instills as much fear in me as the former,
which may sound a little ridiculous, but not to you.
Because you can see that it's that same fear
for my life that goes against my innate
lack of discipline every night
and reminds me quietly not to leave it on.

Is this a weak analogy?
It seems to fit to a strange extent,
right down to the tiny tug in me that doesn't want to let go and hear
the cold clink of metal on windowsill or bedside table tonight.

So here's what I want you to tell me,
because trying to figure it out without you feels like..
a lot of words, all of which mean either wrong or ridiculous
or futile.

Or as impossibly difficult as writing is when I'm so utterly lost.
It's like I'm stuttering, wading through something thick,
and frustration.

See?

What I want to know is if you think that leaving this necklace on
is maybe something I should risk.


I'm sorry that this isn't more eloquent,
a hundred times,
my best;

I am debilitated by the lack of your input in an area of my thoughts.