Tuesday, September 20, 2011

The List Of Reasons

That the way light bounces off your skin has nothing to do with who you are.

That smokers believe they need to die a little, just to go outside.

That art has always hated the frame you put it in and would lash out, kicking and screaming in the streets, if you gave it half a chance.

That the way lovers touch can not be communicated in words, no matter how often or how hard you try.

That your body fights your mind and your mind fights your soul and your soul fights the world, to try and figure out what you are.

That sometimes, you're just tired.

That's all.

The Blood Floods The Subway

All I ever wanted you to do was feel this feeling. Be this way. Exhale the sky.

All you ever did was feel different. Be away. Wash your hands with air.

All I love is a feeling. I still feel this way. I cannot breathe.

I still forget there's air out there.

I still forget how white hot everything was.

I still forget myself.

There's nothing wrong with this.

There's nothing true about this.

There's nothing.

You were once everything I felt.

You were once everything.

You were, once.

And if love moves like air, then teach me how to dig my nails into the palm of my hand so I can remember what you once felt like.

The Sound Of The Sea

May I see the things in front of me as they are, not as I think them to be.

May I walk the steps ahead of me one at a time, not wondering if there's a map.

May I say the things that fix things, not break them further apart.

May I do what I need to do, not be distracted by what I can't.

May I dream of what I hope for, not of what I fear.

May I love you like I love you, not as any other, me.

The Shooting Cloud

If you're tired of trying to fall asleep, sleep on it and try again tomorrow.

If you're all out of promises, I have one left for you: The Earth is still here as long as you're alive.

If you want to yell out your frustrations, I'll understand, just understand that the whole world is screaming, mostly complaining about the noise.

If you're worried about having the poetry knocked out of you of you when you're older, don't. Old blood bleeds as good as new.

If you've got nothing left to feel, just pay the bill and walk away.

If there's anything else, let me know.