Home » Posts tagged 'women'

Tag Archives: women

Two Worlds Within A World

Posted on by | Leave a comment

Your world’s in careful order

while mine’s in disarray,

I’ve tried to read between the lines

but there’s just empty space.

When dumb luck gets regarded

for gentle hands of fate,

I sit for hours wondering

whose world has been misplaced?

This fault line, it grows deeper

the longer that I think,

what good are silver lining’s with

prospects neither believe?

Is what I forge through fiction

just white lies for dispute?

I try to keep my distance

to organize what’s true.

Seems when I find the meaning

these worlds they split apart,

now mine’s in careful order

like yours was from the start.

As for that space between?

There’s no room left for me.

There’s nothing to be found

I’ve lived there long enough.

I’m happier with words that mean

exactly what they mean.

I’m happier to be a part

than live in disarray.

If it’s time that pulls the strings

than it’s I who’d rather be,

two worlds within a world

alone—

three worlds to form a whole.

Keep trying but, I don’t scare that easy.

Posted on by | 3 Comments

The lights are on,

but the drive’s not there.

I wonder if this happens to everyone?

I’m sure it does, except

I’m not everyone.

And you, you’re part of them but lately

only half as strong.

Does that sound correct?

Or am I just scratching an itch

not meant to be scratched?

Am I bucketing a well

when all that’s left is rain?

I hear you when you say you’re tired.

I’m tired too.

And when you say you’re trying, love

I’m trying too.

I feel you when you’re breaking,

partly because I’m breaking too.

I feel it when your heart is aching,

since mine’s been split in two.

What’s left than but a couple lines?

Enough to prove our sorrow?

For all the many times I’ve died

I’ve always seen tomorrow.

It’s hardest when you say

the words that help you sleep,

so sleep as many days

as it took for me to wake.

Besides, I feel much better since

I know this fight’s a gas,

it’s a wonky handle left we clutch

of a longing meant to last.

The Perks of You

Posted on by | 2 Comments

As daylight wanes, and night begins

there’s rapture in the air.

With static thought, and moonlit eyes

I see it all too clear.

What’s written in the stars, is written in the sand.

What’s written on the heart, is written now by hand.

My love for you is twilight.

My love for you is snow.

My love for you is many things, my love for you is old.

I’ve kept it in the shadows, of poetry and light.

I’ve kept it in the darkness, to brighten up my night.

Just know my heart is dancing, like fire unto stone.

Just know my heart is breaking, each night I am alone.

As daylight comes, I feel you near—

the darkness goes away.

The perks of you are endless still, your love’s a weathervane.

(we owe ourselves) The Real Thing

Posted on by | 3 Comments

We don’t often get the real thing.

Or allow ourselves to be vulnerable while at peace.

Often we’re told to keep our chin up.

To stand up straight, and don’t ask questions.

Often we’re told lies.

Boy don’t speak out of turn.

Missy know your place.

It’s when we answer fearful calls.

It’s when we ask the harder questions.

It’s when we choose to be defiant,

to be honest with ourselves,

it’s when we find our truth sincere

that we start to become most vulnerable.

Then, and only then

will we allow ourselves that peace,

the piece that we’ve been missing,

that feels so familiar, so simple, so pure.

So much so that pure feels like a dirty word.

—

It’s this peace we can deny our whole lives over,

or accept that we’re a match

ready and willing to burn ourselves alive—

just to get the real thing.

this god damn ghost of me

Posted on by | Leave a comment

if i could live with someone’s hope

forever till we part

i’d at least be able to see

beyond the ashes on my fingertips

and the cough tucked under-sleeve,

perhaps then maybe i could sleep?

longer than it takes to wake and find

who i’m not, or who i’d rather be—

cause it’s such a drag to smile

then to give a laughing nod,

that even when i do it’s like

my mind just says enough—

so when sitting becomes quiet

with my shadow and the curb

i hear within the darkest corner

that hope i don’t deserve.

and if i know you well enough

i know you’ll disagree,

still hopelessly devoted to

this god damn ghost of me.

and it’s hardly ever good enough

in retrospect you’ll see

that hope distilled in all of us

is that in which i bleed—

As If We Existed

Posted on by | 2 Comments

It wasn’t ever fun

Even when it lasted

There was always hidden

A motive and agenda

Something I couldn’t figure from afar—

I needed microscopic certainty

That I’d have to disappear

In order to remember—

For them to forget—

That either of us had ever existed

What Could Possibly Matter More Than Meaning What You Don’t Have The Answers For?

Posted on by | 3 Comments

What’s the point in asking the question

If your voice is already defeated

I’d go blind just trying to see it

You know everyone is trying to beat it—

If there’s pain then that means there’s a reason

If there’s truth then it’s hard to believe in

Still it’s hard not to relive this feeling

Where everyone everyone’s stealing—

It’s like selling your grief for a grievance

Why the hell would you even break even

Doing all we could to deceive them

It’s all wasted time wasting time healing—

It’s like playing pretend dressed in your skin

Or saying the pledge of allegiance

When there’s no one to please or believe in

It only matters as much as you mean it

drunks and dreamers

Posted on by | Leave a comment

I like to sit, in long

Wakes of silence

And write cowboy songs

For drunks and dreamers

Who know better

And are better—

Who are better off alone.

French New Wave Lifestyles

Posted on by | Leave a comment

She seemed relatable

like a French new wave film—

Her hair was tangled by

the absence of the thrill—

My mind fell blind in the dark

each movement felt removed

In black and white it all looks like

some senseless noir doom.

Descending ladders with a

backwards forward view—

Replaced reminders taken

for some other you—

She stepped calm in the light

another foreign move

In black and white it all seems like

you just might make it through.

Now there’s a towel on the floor

white as a dove

Transcending shadows as if

orders from above

The clock just turns and spins

a spiral of what’s lost

In black and white it all feels like

we’re dying to be caught.

In black and white it all looks like

there’s nothing to turn off.

Acting like you don’t know is an art in itself

Posted on by | Leave a comment

It’s hard

To see

Out this pit

Of despair

When you’re down

On your knees

In the cold

Summer air

And it’s hard

To conceive

Memories

When you care

Looking for

What you lost

In a house

Built of mirrors

And it’s hard

When you know

All of this

Is a joke

Convinced

Or exposed

Either way

There’s a host

To obey

Or believe

In what you

See in me

That’s alright

It’s ok

Sip your honey

and tea

I just thought

You should know

I don’t know—

Yeah I know