parasite |
like an ankle to a leech,a boat to the barnacle,i host my yesterdays.and i forget their weightuntil i'm weary and spentand my words become lodgedbehind the tapeworm of doubtthat i'm not sure how long'...
Posted by Myca on Tue, 13 May 2008 09:00:00 PST |
chapped |
you kissed hard my chapped lips,and thought, "poetic" not "imperfect"so i kissed your cotton mouth,and thought, "appropriate."i'm not as complete as i play to beand you're just not as strongbut strong...
Posted by Myca on Tue, 13 May 2008 08:56:00 PST |
museum walls |
all of the room next to us i saw was caught from a glance. it held something vulgar in the center. something vulgar, intrusive, and deceitful. it had filled the room up so full with ...
Posted by Myca on Sun, 23 Sep 2007 11:47:00 PST |
boy is like the weather these days |
the flowers are cold
please, with a blanket, cover them
like you would, your own child,
should she be left in the wind.
i know they are not your own
but i'm afraid that left alone,
they will...
Posted by Myca on Wed, 28 Mar 2007 04:56:00 PST |
none to trust |
When indulgence meets abstinence you'll find me in between. I'm catching your words and pocketing them for a later day. A day when I will see all I've done wrong. Find me there, on t...
Posted by Myca on Sat, 16 Dec 2006 02:08:00 PST |
if you can, breathe... |
You're choking on the taste of infidelity
I'd like to help you breathe
But the color of blue you're turning is so becoming on you.
I understand the look in your eyes
Spilling over with regret.
If you ...
Posted by Myca on Mon, 04 Dec 2006 12:55:00 PST |
In it |
Today. Not tomorrow. Live it today. Love what you can, who you can while you can, today. Listen today. To a parent, to a sibling, to a teacher, to a stranger, today. ...
Posted by Myca on Sat, 23 Sep 2006 10:48:00 PST |
trying times are times for crying |
she puts her make up on
space by space
but you can't see the girl
it's just her face
masked in paste
...
Posted by Myca on Wed, 16 Aug 2006 06:42:00 PST |
Welcome To Miller's Landing |
I'm sitting in a smoke filled room in the relative company of a native alaskan with hardly any neck to speak of and now a curly haired boy who i have no nick name for. but his eyelashes are long...
Posted by Myca on Wed, 02 Aug 2006 07:47:00 PST |
Seasons, like people, like underwear, like colors, like me change |
I'm not afraid of who I am becoming or the pieces I'm leaving behind. I'm not afraid of who will still love me or who will leave my life. I'm not afraid of the ideas I don't agree with or ...
Posted by Myca on Mon, 03 Jul 2006 07:55:00 PST |
