Receive.

(11.20.09)
You were always more like twine,
Wrapping yourself around my neck.

So thin you had seemed innocuous
To my gullible eyes,

But once you had enclosed my airway
I was forsaken to eradicate your embrace.

In Death

(11.09.09)

I crept along the wall

Positive the shadows would conceal me

From the eyes of a hundred

Passers-by

Who knew not what I am here to do.

My shoes provide the silence

With a click

Clack

That resonates and makes my heart thump harder.

I feel the cool paper

Against my back,

And I imagine the swirls

And dips

And paisley prints

Are reaching out

To caress my skin as I slither

Through the hallways,

Missing lights and

Missing sounds

That do not resonate my heart.

There is a room

That glows a sullen blue

At the end of the hall,

And inside I imagine

Would be cooler

Than my favorite drink.

I will find

A mirror that will not reflect the image

Of the man I have become,

But remind me of all

The things I should have been.

A chair with a black cushion

Would hold on to me,

So tight

To assure the world that I am

Just where I am needed to be.

The halls are silent,

No breezes creeping slowly,

No stifled whispers

That reach out to pull me back

To the places I used to sneak.

In there, I can find myself

Wrapped in a dull blanket,

Cocooned by walls of blue,

And I will find peace,

Concealed inside a place

Where no one knows
Who I was meant to be.

Waiting for Repairs

(11.07.09)
I purged myself repeatedly
Because you had filled
Me up so heavily and your eyes
Were made of an amber
I could not,
At once,
Forget,
But forgive me of my trespasses.

You were the only one I loved.

Denial

(11.07.09)
Collapse into me
Again and again.
I don't want to love like that.
It should remain
As passionate
As it had been before
So that all will know
Time does not mean anything
Because it's all just like
A lake
For us to swim.
Drowning is always an option
For those of us left to float
And
Be adrift all on our own.
Down falls,
To rivers,
And back to the lake once more.

Bypass

(11.07.09)
Could you survive if I
Press panic
Or would you fall to your knees
Like a lackluster hero?
He was made of chimney soot
And deviled eggs,
Laid to waste upon my sheets.
His rotten body, lying close to mine.
So close I could not breathe
Myself back into me.
He wore a face of a
Hallmark clown
To hide all of his thoughts beneath.
But, I remember what it is to
Walk away
From a life that tried
to pull me under currents,
But I have always been able to
Hold on to shores.