Grief |
..............Just as I started boiling the pasta tonight, the sadness began to set in. Like a warm familiar blanket. My mother told me this morning. I looked into her eyes and I opened my arms to her... Posted by on Fri, 05 Dec 2008 00:34:00 GMT |
this ones at least a year old now... |
Heart break beats muscles bloodvessels flood downdrown me down these bubble sudsdrunken thuds my head on the tubour diligent decadence dims my sensesfloating here you ring my earfloating here you ring... Posted by on Thu, 22 May 2008 17:52:00 GMT |
Falling Out of Love |
like falling from grace we fall from eachothers arms,and as from eachothers arms, from eachothers hearts; the empty space between us becomes miles. the silence is thicker than I ever knew it could be.... Posted by on Sat, 05 Jan 2008 15:32:00 GMT |
Its a story |
A man once wrote a poem. It was the only poem he ever wrote.
Beneath this poem was himself:
"Hilltops crumble christening
the sinking feeling drowning me
and empty stars stare down a... Posted by on Thu, 03 Jan 2008 11:01:00 GMT |
Whitewater |
Dispassionate eyes we lay on each other Desirous liers we make of each other On fire this life cannot be smothered So living becomes two sides of a river Violently crashing the whitewater sweeps Away ... Posted by on Fri, 07 Dec 2007 21:04:00 GMT |
Stare |
What are you thinking with those eyes? I forgot how to read between the lines I got so in the practice of spelling it out I got so in the practice of self-centered self-doubt Between the lights and th... Posted by on Fri, 07 Dec 2007 20:54:00 GMT |
Fruedian slips |
There was a song in my head
As there usually is
I was tapping my hand on my leg
Then I batted my eyes
There was dust in my eyes
That's not what I mean, it's not how it seems
So maybe its good
... Posted by on Tue, 27 Nov 2007 18:04:00 GMT |
... |
I know I have something better to say,
It must be written down somewhere else... Posted by on Mon, 15 Oct 2007 16:48:00 GMT |
apathy, what else? |
I want to whisper in your ear, Place your hand on the small of my back, don't let goLet yourself wander, caress my soulLook into my eyes there's fire insideI'm tired of the sideways, backwards glances... Posted by on Mon, 15 Oct 2007 16:44:00 GMT |
hindsight |
sometimes you have to write like shit to write well. Posted by on Mon, 15 Oct 2007 16:42:00 GMT |