Vide

I give you the gift of my hands.

 

My writs

down to the tips of my middle fingers

it’s all yours.

 

I will embrace your hands within mine

Intertwine our fingers until we appear

as if we are ready for a midafternoon prayer.

 

I will use my hands to run through the hair

on the back of your neck while you drive.

 

When you are feeling weak

when you need courage.

 

My fingers will be the ones

strategically placing the war paint

upon your face.

 

Giving you the courage you never knew you had.

 

My hands will tussle your hair while you

lay, innocent and childlike, on my chest

and I will make you feel safe.

 

My hands will be the ones

reaching out across the table

waiting.

 

My hands are always so busy

showing affection in ways

that go unnoticed.

 

Always Busy

….Always Empty.

 

 

Devoured From The Inside Out

But what kind of world do we live in?

One that makes us believe in end rhymes,

and love. A world where every word spoken

must be profound. The words that leave ones lips

are soaked in nothing but spit and devilish undertones

as they slowly crawl up the throat to escape. To escape

the terror of their creator. The one who thought those words,

conceived them, and bore them into this world of end rhymes,

and love. Those words, those dripping, saturated words we speak.

Those words are no longer for me. Not anymore. I cannot allow these

monstrosities to escape from their hellish crib. No longer will I play the

role of the blinded follower and allow for my own demonic creations

to leave me. No, I will keep them. Hold them hostage within myself.

Ignoring the twinging and urging from their constant pleas for release.

I refuse to continue to live in this world. A world of end rhymes,

and love. Because after all, but what kind of world do I live in

One that no longer makes me believe in end rhymes,

and love. But one that makes me think before

I go walking about this world. The one

you know as, of end rhymes,

and love.

 

The Privilege of Being Me

I feel like a wallflower in my own relationship

Resting delicately on the wall, right next to my senior picture.

 

Listening in on our every conversation. Analyzing where exactly I went wrong.

Or maybe that was you.

 

I suppose that is for my flowerself to decide.

 

Every fight, every head forcefully thrust into the wall,

Right next to where I hang

I mutter to myself.

 

The muttering, is always one of self-doubt

Questioning.

 

Always questioning what I happened to do wrong this time.

In my mind, your faults are in turn mine.

 

Your words, those are also mine.

 

I take full responsibility for what happened, and for what is to happen next.

 

I cannot permit you to carry the weight and burden of my cross.

Our cross.

 

Blank pages, empty canvas, empty room.

Empty heart.

 

If I could vomit onto a blank canvas, do you think you will finally understand.

Why is it that I can understand you so perfectly to the point where I feel like I am you

 

But when it comes to me, you look as if I were anime novel written in Yiddish.

 

My complexity isn’t something I keep under lock and key

I’d be happy to help you study for the test.

 

Lesson #1:

 

I’d rather get flowers, than be a flower upon our wall.

 

Just thought you’d like to know.

 

The perks

 

Rest Assure

In all actuality

don’t we do everything for

“In the end”

 

The things we do

are for the end.

 

Whether this end be

the end of the week, or year, or life

we do, what we do for “In the end”.

 

In the end

will you hold your head high?

 

Will you be proud of what you accomplished?

or will someone else be proud for you?

will it even matter?

 

In the end.

 

In my end

I hold myself to the highest ideals

because

 

In the end

I was the best me possible

 

Maybe not in every end

however

not every end was so great.

 

To much avail

I failed in my life, a lot.

 

I will continue to fail

I am under no illusion

that I will have no more bad endings.

 

After all

what would life be

 

In the end

 

If all we did was triumph

and prevail as if we were

a white knight in shining armor.

 

Constantly winning the eternal battle

between what is right and wrong.

 

In the end

I can rest assure

I wrote my own ending.

 

In the end

I know my life was delicately

molded to fit the perfect ideal

 

of my end.

 

In the end.

 

 

 

 

Re:

 

Reword. Restart. Rewind. Redo.

remember.

remember what hurts you and don’t go back.

 

do not redo what you’ve done before

that will only lead to the unraveling and undoing

of what you’ve worked so hard to fix.

mend.

you will be left unsatisfied and unfilled.

 

a gaping hole

right in the spot where you used to feel emotion

any emotion other than pain.

 

You will now feel pain

anguish

alone.

 

How can one be so alone when surrounded by people.

people they care about and who care about them

but anymore all they are is body heat.

 

keeping your cold, fragile self breathing

for just a little while longer.

 

their warm thoughts and kind words

are wishfully used as kindling

in high hopes that some color will return to your face.

 

little do they know

that once you’ve been cold for so long

there is no use in trying to bring you back.

you cannot undo what has already been done a million times over.

 

 

 

 

Mortal Kombat

My own words
a double-edged
sword

sinking deep within
my own thoughts
feelings

unexpected twists and turns of events leave me
begging to feel
something

anything

be it pain
relief
euphoria

allow me to feel something

allow
something to come of this.

right
or
wrong

good
or
bad

my yesterday will no longer reflect
today

as today no longer reflects
tomorrow

breathe slow
breathe steady

level heads
and
calm hearts

shall always prevail.

Ultimately

Everything will eventually lead me back to another memory.
whether this memory be recent or many years past is dependent on the situation
but one thing is inevitable
and that is everything will eventually lead me back to another memory.

The smell of coffee beans, well they take me back to an airport.
The sound of cars driving on loose gravel, takes me back to a spring afternoon
spent cleaning the house.

These days hold no significance to me
for any reason or any other time, for that matter.
And yet, every time these memories of seemingly insignificant times
flood my mind.

It reminds me that every word I say
every step I take
every breath I breathe
I do these things for a reason.

I live for the sake of living and nothing more.

Bring with it a new day, Tomorrow.

Here is the deal
The biggest to do on my list
Right here, right now
Is to lay this all out on the table.

I am strange.
I am off,
In a sense
If you will.

I do not believe I think like everyone else
I am bound to my own belief of my uniqueness.

I have my past
My history
That may or may not involve you

My past
My history
Yea, it has changed me

“Shaped and molded me into who I am today”
if you will.

Some day’s I look forward to a better tomorrow.
Some day’s I wonder if there even will be a tomorrow.
And some day’s I am perfectly content with it being the day it is.
Hell, some day’s I never want to end
But who doesn’t have all those days?

Here is my point.
Though you may not like who I am now
And you liked who I was yesterday better

Who’s to say you wont like my tomorrow.

Lillies and Lavender

I always envisioned the “one”
you know,
the person I was destined to be with for the rest of my life.

My true love
My one and only

When I say envisioned I don’t mean that I pictured the physical him,
dusty blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, and a killer smile,
though that isn’t an awful thought, if you catch my drift.

But, I always thought about meeting him
Bumping into him and knowing from the moment we locked eyes that he was the one

I guess that is why I hold first impression with such high importance,
I had high expectations for my man.
If he was the one, I was going to know it from day one.

But, I don’t think I could be more wrong.

There is something so enticing to me presently
about finding comfort in an unexpected place.

Letting a relationship blossom and develop under such unknowing circumstances.

How delightfully beautiful.

Much like, especially in such a poetic sense,
wild flowers blooming in ones backyard.

Though they may be unexpected, and sometimes even uninvited
If they left to grow and flourish
they can bring such beauty and perspective one might never have considered.

You may think your life is perfectly content without those wild flowers, but once they make their way into your garden and find their place they have the ability to create such an atmosphere that you will leave you

changed.

Transparency

Perhaps, to you I am nothing but a mere rain droplet.
But not just any rain droplet,
one that falls with such grace from its cloud
and lands perfectly on the upper left corner of your windshield.
So then, in that very moment I land
you are thinking of nothing else.
And since you have nothing else to think of
you will have to think of me.
That annoying little rain droplet
on the upper left corner of your windshield.