placing bets, pt. 1

"I walk alone, but I feel ya there,
smiling upon me, I wonder
what you have drawn on your hands today,
runes to show you remember."

I walk alone, but I feel ya inching your way

along,

inching your way

you lightly caressing the bruises of

every pain i've ever felt

cup your hands around my soft

chin,

sometimes i worry about the

mess

i put you in

the curve above my jeans,

gentle belly with hip bones

(expletive)

cup your hands around my soft

skin,

lover,

lover

you are the muse

just some lyrics

"Was I in your dreams, I'd like to know.
Did I touch your hand and did it feel like snow?
Try to understand while I've got you on the phone.
Did I hurt you like I know I can?
Tell me why you'd ever wanna leave your lovin' man.
Try to understand, please try to understand.
Was I in your dreams, was I in your dreams?
This dreamer died when his dreamed died too.
But I don't really mind if I dream about you..
I can't say what any of that means.
Oh, was I in your dreams, late last night.
Did you hold your pillow, did you squeeze me tight?
I just wanna make everything all right.
Was I in your dreams, was I in your dreams, was I?"

soft little tears

there is a tear
from so much use
i still see the rip,
raw
white and naked it
lays there
buried with a sea of
warm blue all around
i still see the rip,
exposing the edges of my
panties...
beautiful
imperfection
the latest fashions have
been ripped
for
us
it must be excellent
to have not
"imperfections"
but perfect,
inumerable little flaws
because that's what
they want
to
see

*sigh*

i can forgive so easily

but it's much harder to forget

because it makes talking about the future

a little more scary

which direction you headed?

don't fucking read this

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

this is a waste of time

BUT YOU STILL LOOKED AT IT

let's lock our parents out for good

and do our goddamn jobs

let's lock everyone the fuck out

and do our goddamn jobs

let's be honest with ourselves

and do our goddamn jobs

let's write about sex we never have

let's curse and complain while we change the things that stay the same

let's throw in our love like it's fucking dirty laundry

let's clean this up

let's make this fucking work

let's do our goddamn jobs

and not waste a fucking moment worrying about whether or not we care

THIS IS MY JOB

staring ahead

with paper

in my veins

i slowly drink

each word

you say

like a 

terrible

medicine

is this

supposed to 

make me 

better?

maybe

this is the

best thing

that ever 

happened

because of this poem

maybe i won't cry about this

because of 

this poem

in the back of my throat, there lies...

it's hard to explain 

why

i need this

but

i need this

when every little thing

seems impossible, improbable,

i find myself here

wishing i wasn't

here

knowing

this is where i belong, near a 

blank lined page, 

with nothing but my kneecaps

to support me

nothing to hold the paper,

i shiver here in the dark hole

i am not a child

but i still want you to hold me like the day i was born

bones of our fathers

bones are bones my friend
and you won't find flags
in a million years
in the fossil record

act 2, scene 3

"Shirtless, sheetless and sleepless
on the edge
of your queen-sized bed, Last night
I didn't wanna move you,
You said I'd be the one you remember as self-obsessed

every fucking word that I tell you is self-addressed

Sure you saw me naked but I never took my make-up off,
You don't need me, And plus my eyeballs occupy the sockets like a half-dead doll,
So maybe you could kill me off in one of your songs?

Cause I'm not thrilled about anything, anything at all..."