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You don't feel better
now that what was once
so alive
is now what twice leaves you hanging.
longing
for someone new
and for something thats more
than truth.

remind me of being
in love
with you
because memory serves
to rest
without

Simplifying moments,
deciphering.
losing lines in all the simple things

Breakfast on a Sunday,
windows wide and suddenly,

It's never how it used to be,
Yet you're always.

constant and unwavering.

And I need you to leave me.
He is never knowing,
always leaving,
empty spaces,
lost in breathing.

I wonder softly,
willingly.
If life is love and love is mystery,

then imitating love
for you
to consider me.

Is imitating life.
 Like Houdini
without the capability,
what feels like flying,
leaves me hanging.

 My heart is tired,
heavy handed,
on it your words lay.
It draws the lines that glances drew,
and marks the steps that your steps took.

But your breathing stains my mind,
and fixated, crosses T's and dots the I's,
but let me read your words, my book.
Let me see the heart you took.

I've decided this ones a song.


 One set of eyes and I'm freezing,
But you look away
and I'm frozen.

 Open and empty,
I'm frozen.
Must be broken.
What I've heard can't be spoken,
It's running circles out of my lines.

 Take my hair down,
Strand by strand.
Level me out,
I'm lost in your hands,
Running through fingers like sand
that dusts the shoes on your floor.

 One little glance and I'm broken,
Two eyes for one,
I've been stolen.

 But I give you up.
I forefit my eyes and I say I'll give up.
I'm too frozen.
I'm quite broken
up in your arms.
 

It's hard to make this distance wider
than the widest sea
where the waves come crashing,
to common sense and clarity.
 
You make me what I'll never be.
 
The principles of such uncertainty,
I walk ahead,
leave you to breathe,
turning the top of the carousel,
and waking me from dreams.
 
Our legs curl by the blue curtains rim,
and I tie you there and watch you scream,
I know just how it feels to be free,
and where you're running
 
Familiarity locks away the keys.
 

You make me what I’ll never be.

Aug. 31st, 2008


The violet seller,
tells the lights to turn out the sun,
but she is far too fond,
of never knowing what to say,
just taking in oxygen,
and giving her flowers away.
 
sitting right here with you,
means little,
But the smallest everything.
 
So how does it feel to be getting there?
 
So she says take a needle,
and sew me a picture,
but it won't be as pretty as you,
as nothing compares now to you,
just take me to someplace that’s crimson
and give me your heart to use.

Aug. 31st, 2008

It's lighting and thunder,
with no distance between,
except miles of wonder,
where the rain clouds have been.
 
So say it.
Don't play around with me,
Say it.
I can take that I live in a dream.
 
The house on the hill,
floods from the sky,
gathers my up with my letters and rhymes,
and it thrills me.
 
So say it,
Don't play around with me,
say it,
I can take it that this doesn’t seem

so important.

Jul. 10th, 2008

I won't live in the city without windows,
without raindrops falling on my mind,
knowing parts that need a rest,
and coldly grabbing hold.

I woke up to find you were never leaving,
But I was already gone,
and you chose to dance out in the room,
singing 'girl it doesn't matter any more'.

Rode my life out to a field,
and left it there beside the handlebar,
spinning wheels until night's shield,
called 'come find me, wherever you are'.

Running here so you will tell me,
'One day',
but you cannot do what you know you cannot say,
And I'm unwilling to write to.

Gosamer thread ties vowels together,
Consenants fall and break in weather,
I gather flowers and throw them back,
and waste my time,
I am never coming back.