BONES
If our bones were skeletons.
Our skeletons had homes.
We’d no longer hide them.
In flesh and in clothes.
If you knew all that’s in me.
If my blood were sweet wine.
If my eyes were reflecting.
The shores and the skies.
Then maybe you’d love me.
Then maybe you’d find.
That all that lies on them.
Is nothing but time.
CONCRETE JUNGLE
They always speak of green pastures and quiet, flowing streams.
But every time I think I’m there, I wake up from that dream.
I look around and see I’m in a jungle of cold concrete.
And it’s stationary,
and it’s moving,
and it’s on all four sides of me.
But dwelling all inside my mind is that quiet, flowing stream.
And my imagination builds a pasture out of that cold concrete.
I cloud my saddened vision with a dream I wish was real.
And make it my reality until the world I no more feel.
But like that dream, I awake, and the masking fades away.
And the shades of green and bright blue waters slowly seize to gray.
Until alas I come to find that deep inside of me,
The illusion of a beating heart was really cold concrete.
Is not the world in which I find the meadows bearing green.
Is not the rivers of this earth I find my quiet streams.
A heart of stone cannot see the beauty called to seek.
The place I desire most to dwell, first
must dwell in me.
SINCE THEN
I’d love to go back to the time when everything made sense.
When worries were minimal.
When all my friends were friends.
I always hear people say,
“Seasons change.”
“Things will blossom again.”
But it seems that all I’ve had is winter,
Ever since then.
GROWTH
Our hearts grow, rapidly.
Though it’s been a day, merely.
And we thought love was slow.
But love’s pace came fast and swiftly.
I tried to stand, but you stopped me.
I tried to go, but you held me.
Love bound our presence, strictly.
Our hearts have grown, immensely.
ALIVE
Take a breath in.
Feel the winds trickle down into your lungs,
then burst into fluttering wings.
Energy.
Powering your heart,
your brain.
Touch the hair on your arms, your flesh.
Let your skin connect.
Tangibility.
Reminding you you’re real, you exist.
It’s raining.
Stick your tongue out.
Taste the salt water of the earth.
Consumed.
You’re a body of water.
Voluminous in worth.
WARMTH
I’m stuck within your rays.
I feel the fervor of your beams.
But your rotations are never ending.
And my pace is growing weak.
The streams are growing violent.
It’s dark and I’m alone.
But I’m fixed upon your brightness.
And I feel the warmth of home.
EXQUISITE
Excruciating.
That lost love, crumbled and shattered into micro particles swept to the edge of the porch, until winds whip that dust back into your eyes.
And tears form, expelling that foreign feeling.
You thought this would never be your life.
Violent.
Thoughts like inexplainable waves on a still, lifeless day pretend-kissing your brain, fingering that space between your chest where breath is lost when slugged with a fist.
Splitting.
Separation of mind and heart to that point of all love gone from any inkling of drive you worked up in that mushy, purple organ dangling in your skull. That figurative thumping behind the brittle ribs of your cage slowly fades and nothing thumps but your tired, thin-stretched brain.
Exquisite.
Him staring into your swollen, watering eyes, red nose and cheeks, bright, grey eyes. Telling you, “you’re just so pretty,” That exquisite thought lost in the deepest sadness you’ve ever felt. As he backs away and makes you feel again the love you really never once had.
GROW AGAIN
Tips of my fingers flourish
Sepal, supple skin.
Blooming pistils, petals.
A meristem within.
I’m gathered, seeded, sewn,
A depth within the earth
I am home and I am whole
For this I know, I’m sure.
And I will let you pick me.
As petals shed my skin.
For I am grounded on this earth.
And I will grow again.