I was at fault for wanting you to define me
When I couldn’t quite understand the breadth of that explanation
I was at fault for wanting you to define me
When I couldn’t quite understand the breadth of that explanation
My fingers seem to trick me when I enter an old password that reminds me of us
Or click to share music or art with you
it’s been weeks since I’ve changed the password and
Months since I’ve left you
But I miss all the good that was there in us, so my physical body is slow to catch up with my spiritual
‘cuz that my love,
is fucking over it
Brilliance doesn’t beg for attention.
And neither does beauty.
I sometimes read what I’ve written in the past with questions for the older perspective
Surprised that I can write with an elegant voice and flow when my mind is in a deep black hole 🕳
It’s as if the narrative pulls me from sinking further
Writing, a hand of a friend
Reaching in from the ledge
My heart is in my fucking throat
As I’m choking on the absence of love
And visualizing it everywhere.
I watch as blissful lovers glide across the sidewalks
Buried in nourishing love, flowers sprout tall from their skulls
One waters and the other weeds
In the shadows of cool brick, I drool over their shared peace
Making my ego beg for someone to look at me as if I held more light than the sun
She’s not like you. She’s not an author or a poet. Her mind and body hold the art. She lives in it and as it.
It fucking pours out of her.
A bead of sweat followed its current down my forehead and swelled in my ear
I lay, eyes closed, ankles crossed on the couch at dusk
My place downtown in a small city of FL, had birds filling the air at all hours but
I missed the thought of someone here
I missed the feeling of companionship
A loyal confidant at my hip
I missed someone loving all of me and wrapping me in their arms
But the first, wasn’t true for you
And I’d rather die than lose a part of me.
We fragment our hearts with endless boundaries of how to love.
Our boundaries create fear.
And fear is the death of all good ideas and worthy adventures.
Scraping the surface of life
HAH
and we think we’re alive
finding anyway to avoid our mind.
Humans, most of us, too naive to believe
in the sudden storm that lives in us.
Capable of the strongest wind,
the loudest roar,
and the brightest strike.
Yet, we have such strife with the source of life that pulses inside….
encased in a shell,
so beautiful it scares,
so beautiful it confuses that who lives there.
We walk in our shoes everyday
not mindful of our weight.
As it grows…heavier
& heavier
without life’s orgasmic releases
available at ease
if we breathe in each moment.