I fall in love with the idea of you
Of people and places and things but oh, mostly you
Of some sort of better life out there
Of greener grass and sweeter smiles.
Maybe if we close our eyes
And wish and hope and dream that things will be all right (ha! A-okay!)
Then hey, maybe they will be.
And maybe the sky won’t seem so dark, and my heart won’t feel so damn h e a v y,
Because when the sun rises, our sighs fall,
and tears of joy trickle down my chin, making their own way down to you and
your caresses, so strong yet so gentle all at once.
Oh, and you fail to see the things about myself that I personally like the least, and
oh, you make me feel like the girl I wish I could see when I look at my damn self in the mirror.
You make me feel like I could never fail, at anything, ever, at all.
Because when our foreheads are pressed together, and I taste the salt on your tongue, I fall in love with the way leftover pizza lingers on your tastebuds, the feeling of chills on spines, and electric shocks on fingertips.
You make me feel like I’m already the person I could only dream about becoming one day.
The way you look at me, oh, you belong somewhere else, like in my bed or on my table, and I take a swig from the bottle when I finally come to the conclusion that any one of these days, you could just walk right on out of here, with that intoxicating swagger like you always have and that little smirk that always taunts me, and you could find something new that you like better.
Like hacky-sacks, or homemade Kettle Corn.
But oh – you make me feel so damn raw, and I mean that in the best way possible,
Like I’m still a little child with skinned knees – with you I might be bruised from before, from the past, but I’m still secure and safe with you now, and
When your fingers slip their way into my own, the way your little smirk slips onto your face, I smile, too, because
I know you like me way better than Kettle Corn.
Think of how the universe works and how fantastic it is that it all works. Regardless of who or what is responsible for its existence, how fantastic is it that it all happened? That you were put into this strange casing of skin and bones and blood that work perfectly, that your lungs are what deliver that vital substance, known as air, that we all need. That we are on the planet perfect for sustaining our needs, that we have no idea how we ended up here. Yet, for centuries, people have been focused on how we got here. And we’ll likely never know. We have no idea how we got here, and that’s not important. The why is. You need to think about what it is you want to do with your time here, not how you got here. Because at the end of the earth, there are no guarantees.
it’s funny, because last time i wrote,
i said i didn’t love my home.
yet here i am, writing away,
filled with the loneliness for home that i’ve
never yet felt.
maybe it’s that i know i’m gone long,
or that i won’t be able to see the things with which
i’m most familiar,
or be able to pet my dogs and take a long shower
and curl into the covers in my cold room.
but it’s hot here, in rooms without ac.
and it’s lonely. in a week, no one has hugged me.
(and you don’t think about how much you need hugs
until you haven’t had one in a while and
your body feels cold and empty and dirty
and lonelier than even your heart)
and there aren’t dogs here, no sight of my family
worrying about me, and my happiness,
from nearly 2000 miles away.
and maybe that’s not far.
and maybe 3 weeks isn’t that long.
but if i’m missing a place that i’ve talked about disliking,
then clearly something is off.
when i went shopping the other day,
i saw a book about home
and burst into tears in the middle
of the store.
and while i certainly wish that
i could enjoy myself while here,
wanting to be home is something
i wish far more.
when’s the last time you listened to classical music?
Sleep, or something else quite calming seeps into my veins
Soporific, exotic, quixotic –
your free spirit kindles the kindred flame within my own heart,
and you tell me that you are glad that I exist
And then you let me in on a little secret
Together we fly away, in an airplane and only the two of us can feel the air
Streamlining through an atmosphere in which only we can breathe,
the two of us
and I forget how to say your name without a gasp of air escaping through my parted lips
But yet, I never forget
How to smile.
Paradise nestles
In a canopy of
Iridescent fractals
Where you are buoyant as helium
Where you are not hunter, not prey
And burden nothing
Kneel beside pools of ambrosia
Reflecting memories
Of mortal virtues, immortal agressions
Set free your loyal muse
So she may replenish her lyric
Crossing the golden arch
Watch and listen to
All you have ever, never known
But never relive
the mystery
of what is left unspoken
can be answered
by what is not.
Inkling 