I'm still alive

Burn your sage, burn the lavender.
Stand there, feeling rejected.
Say the prayers, offer your seed.
Keep the candle burning, keep the direction, keep the mountains moving.
She sometimes gets lost when she's alone.
Lost her brave, losing time.
Are you safe, now that you have space?
Have you gone to the seaside?
Good timepieces and proper coffee.
Flowers given to
Innocents who somehow became
Targets
She can hide in the woods, she'll walk in the snow.
Bells and girls and jingles and blankets.
Send the prayers, burn the sage, paper cranes.
Weak
Lace and satins.
Ink stains in flesh, cut her blood deep.
We were dying, we were fine.
You should have left long ago.
But were you too occupied bloodletting?

goodbye to libra

Maybe she'll be good to you, maybe she'll give you all of the girls you said you always wanted.

Maybe she'll be the man you've always needed.  Someone strong, fierce, demanding.  I need you here, you need to do this, let's get you there.

Maybe she would because you would.  Maybe you'll keep that gaze in her eyes and she'll keep her smile.  

You'll continue on, this the lil pony and her small world.  But I know where you've been.  I know what you've done.  I know when you've been afraid, those times in the dark, with the unknowns.

There aren't any ghosts this time.  There is the broken frame on your back step.  There's a girl in a black dress and a little white dog.  There's the wood and the plastic and the circles.  Apple martinis and cheap cologne.  Suit up and curls and you forgot what it's like to be a man, breezing in and blowing away.  

Fingerprints on mahogany and love notes over music notes and Christmas Mass sinners.  

You told her color with peep-toes, like you would know, because you'd know what men want from women.  And you wouldn't go with her.  Just this one, come with me.  

And she'll win this round and the next, but she'll be left behind.  But she'll never know she's been pitted against her and the men, oh the men.  

It's strange, how you used to know her.  And now the move on.  And she'll never learn.  But, somehow, it never really mattered anyway.  

Give me more

 I promise I'll always be truthful; you can always rely on my honesty.  I won't work on being what you want.  Spicy lips and all the finery.  Angels, see, they come and go.  There is something beautiful, horizon, love.  And it's all in the desert.  The rough, scrub, and sand.  Warm breeze.  Sage burning, sacred love, potency and sunset.   

I don't believe it will be what you want.  She won't be who you want.  You will receive what she's able to give, what you need.  Good medicine.  There are no walls built of stone here, no closed doors.  There are only open spaces, open land.   

I'm keeping me safe here beneath the firmament.  Angels, don't you see, sometimes, they just don't know. 

Protected

Brave men, mapping out a destination, me, backpedalling, smiling, smug, asking - well, son, where are you headed?

I've come to realize that possibilities are, it's not even endless.  I see space and time, so grandiose, overwhelming. 

We are transitioning, darling, and you're just falling behind.  Are you in now? 

When will it let her go then?

Hazardry

Surely stopping at the most, sending the frost.  Twining around you like it's owned.  Tongue dry and bitterness - it doesn't sting, I promise it won't hurt, not one bit.  Secrets, honey, they are hiding amongst the shadows, don't you see?

Summertime that shines,
Brightly through clouds,
I can't seem to find
And I can't seem to find



Like if I were to ensure this was truly happening - something shatters in the distance.  Sugar-coated trees and falling stars couldn't keep me back from this.  For when monsters are on the verge of greatness, I'm bound to let them through.  Sinking pit of dread - singing on through. 

I cheat and I steal and I know this all will pass when something I know is hiding.  Silly, hiding from me.  Barriers that block you out from everything that I believe in.  Part of the club, exiled. 

I can't seem to find my way back in again. And again. 

Little things

Things change, love.

sliding and keys, hunting and fear, I'll not soon forget.  I put myself into a circle and I remember to think, remember to feel, to breathe.

I finally found the words and i realized why i discounted you.  It wasn't you, it was simply my perception of how things should be.  I have these ideas and these ideas stick and become truths.  They envelop me and take me by the hand and they pull me closer, whispering into my ear.  They are quite convincing, dark, enticing.

Something soft and comforting.  Something soft and true.

It's steadfast and unfaltering.  It doesn't see the boundaries because they are non-existent.  The lines blur to blood.  Where I thought I'd never go, I've since gone.

To the moon and back, I love you.

It's deep and fierce.  Strong, bold.  Chic and heady.  It's always been overpowering, all powerful.  It's always been a dreary rain, a sprinkle or a shower,  Perhaps simply the impending thunderstorm.  It's always been grey and beautiful.  It's always kept me awake and will always keep me away.  It overwhelms me and pulls me deep.  It presses a thousand elephants on my chest until I struggle for breath.  It's a small wire that catches a piece of flesh and wraps itself around, again and again, until it cuts through outer layers of skin, burning and itching and stinging until it finds a safe little nestling spot, bloodied and raw, then tightens again, once more. Something i want to dive into, gulp into my lungs, and scream out in rage.  It's a dark thing, the weaving and weaving.  Knitting together the threads, stitching and creating, seaming and sealing.  Lip tracing, veins pulling. 

You, you aren't this.  You aren't deep or fierce.  You aren't a starlit starling or a fire kindled.  

Remember where you came from, girl.  Remember who you are.  Those days when you were a little less envy.  Just be a sweet girl, dove, love.  Smoke and chills, beaten into a fog.  Be something beautiful.  Not you, not me, just an idea, possibility.  You just go, just let go.  All of the world's salt water taffy couldn't compare.  Tea in cups, you and me. 

I'd rather be dressed in black, so small, in the background.  That's just the way it goes.  I'd still try; I'd still take the blows and I'll take your heat and the bitterness and the warmth.  Or the cool, I'll take your cool fighting.

Just because I said I'd never be your Jesus, that i'd only be an escape, something ended up missing.  You'd never show me a sign.  Whatever happened to a promise?  Whatever happened to a thought, somewhere being thought, something that was brought back to me?

Searching the catalog

You don't know beauty if you think it when you're looking at me.  Kaleidoscope view, regardless of statements standing.  I can say that now because you're not here to argue. 

Tell me what it is to reach out to water?  Tell me what it is to continuously grasp at black.  Tell me what it is to trail on, again and again, fall into the same pattern to see if it will stick.

Does it stick?  Will it ever stick?  Am I quite sticky enough?

Days that I don't feel beauty, beautiful...like birthday cake and glitter.  Goodbye, I've got to leave now. 

It's like a sleek slime that coats my body and doesn't fit.  It doesn't fit especially when you leave your filthy slime on my skin.  Words do more harm than I'd ever let them harm, but the skin is harmed.  I'm just carrying it.  Thoughts that I ponder, wandering thoughts wondered.  Crossing my fingers to see if they burn.  Words that become thoughts that harm skin. 

I touch your cheek to make sure that you're still there.  And I know you're still alive and that she can't do what I can do.  I know that sixteen year old girl kind of love.  You've had that kind of love before.  You've had all kinds of love.  I also know what kind you've never had.  You've never had this - planned and calculated. 

I liked the 5 minute drive in the mornings.  Six in the backseat.  I'd get lost going up the hill, touching each tree with a glance, taking the speed bumps a bit slower to make the five minutes last longer.  Taking a bit longer here and there and finally taking too much time. 

Was I ever something special?  Was I ever free?  Was I just another notch on your belt? 

Not feeling beautiful does funny things to me.  I search my catalog to try to fix it, to try to remember the beautiful, if it ever existed.  Perhaps I was only fooling myself all of those beautiful times, in the beautiful moments.  Perhaps for the sunny days, better on the cloudy.  I think about the DMA, remembering the tears on my cheeks, feeling beautiful on a sunny day. 

I never think it's enough.  I'm falling through the film and slipping on the ice.  I'm not bigger and I'm not better than anything that comes between us.  I'm just the girl across the table, between the sheets, glowing in candlelight.  Not beautiful and losing magic.