Once, there was a girl who wore her dedication in her hair, roses and honeysuckle threaded through. She loved you. She used to tell you so while you were sleeping, a whisper too fragile for the harsh light of day, a secret too heavy for your back.You didn't love her. For all the gravity and hope, she was nothing more than solace and winestains. The bruises you left inside her. Once, you were a boy who could have changed the way time and space intertwined. Now, you're the hole in her lung.
Once there was a prince who set his whole kingdom alight for a serving girl. He left her three weeks later.For a tavern wench.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
i've seen you nights.
It's like this;
you split yourself open, down that fault line you never knew you had until you let him inside. you split yourself right through. you burn and you pine and you smile because oh god, then he'll smile back, and you'd go to the ends of the earth to see that.
i've seen the reddish work, i've seen the blackest deception
i've seen the things kept secret
there's a territorial claim here. bleeding backs and tossed hair. the space between now and how things should be. the ache in your bones and everything.
at night, you'll remember how his skin tastes. cigarettes and salt and something like fear.
oh, look at you.
you split yourself open and get lost in the parts when he should be.
you split yourself open, down that fault line you never knew you had until you let him inside. you split yourself right through. you burn and you pine and you smile because oh god, then he'll smile back, and you'd go to the ends of the earth to see that.
i've seen the reddish work, i've seen the blackest deception
i've seen the things kept secret
there's a territorial claim here. bleeding backs and tossed hair. the space between now and how things should be. the ache in your bones and everything.
at night, you'll remember how his skin tastes. cigarettes and salt and something like fear.
oh, look at you.
you split yourself open and get lost in the parts when he should be.
we undressed, and then dressed again.
I followed you in, under the sighing, restless trees and my whole life vanished.
You stripped me off, and dressed me again in moonglow and bay leaves
tucked daisies behind my ears and vines through my marrow.
I followed you deeper, as the world shrank back to nothing and the ivy blossoms caught my skin
and we knelt in those leaves and kissed and swooned and kissed.
Into that water we fell
you were the stream, and maybe I was drowning
or simply learning to breathe
I followed you into that forest, leaving my childhood trapped in those flowers
the ones that held the moon in petals
something tangled in the vines, hair or sinew or innocence, a vitality.
The snapping dragons laved at our eyes and the places sweat pooled.
You stripped me off, and dressed me again in moonglow and bay leaves
tucked daisies behind my ears and vines through my marrow.
I followed you deeper, as the world shrank back to nothing and the ivy blossoms caught my skin
and we knelt in those leaves and kissed and swooned and kissed.
Into that water we fell
you were the stream, and maybe I was drowning
or simply learning to breathe
I followed you into that forest, leaving my childhood trapped in those flowers
the ones that held the moon in petals
something tangled in the vines, hair or sinew or innocence, a vitality.
The snapping dragons laved at our eyes and the places sweat pooled.
It's like dark matter, the shadow particles.
It's like dark matter, the shadow particles.
This thing I can't ever understand, that might not exist outside of our mind, but without, I'd disintergrate.
'Baise-Moi' I'd say. 'Oui' you would breathe.
The universe would thicken, grow and swell large enough to keep everything together.
'Baise-Moi' was the start.
And now, the bit that comes far after our end? I'm an anti-hysteric for everything but you, almost nihilistic at the sharpest point. My ribcage shows easily now. You're the unknown. I'm going to learn the back of your hands again, smooth your eyebrows down with my thumbs when I'm tired and wanting that soft smile. A pocket full of promises and for once, maybe for the first, honesty.
'Bien adoré'
yes. That.
This thing I can't ever understand, that might not exist outside of our mind, but without, I'd disintergrate.
'Baise-Moi' I'd say. 'Oui' you would breathe.
The universe would thicken, grow and swell large enough to keep everything together.
'Baise-Moi' was the start.
And now, the bit that comes far after our end? I'm an anti-hysteric for everything but you, almost nihilistic at the sharpest point. My ribcage shows easily now. You're the unknown. I'm going to learn the back of your hands again, smooth your eyebrows down with my thumbs when I'm tired and wanting that soft smile. A pocket full of promises and for once, maybe for the first, honesty.
'Bien adoré'
yes. That.
distance.
taken from my myspace blog, put somewhere safe.
I'm full.
Of your secrets, of mine. It's all pressed against the glasssteaming, writhing, writing.
I'm full.
Fraying at the stitching.
The threads that keep me to you to me.
I'm full.
Sometimes, I want to freeze our moments. Like the people burnt out and saved, all at once, by the ash from volcanoes. I want to fill those casts with glitter, sparkle babies of you and me, so that when they explode, when everything is shattered and all that's left is rust and stardust, it'll look like a magic trick.
I'm full. Worn and rough, aching.
When it comes to us, it's better to never ever ever ever ever wonder why. Why the wretched feelings are the only, the best, feelings. Why there's so much joy when we're tearing worlds apart. Why Aphrodite could be so cruel, and why the sea God never just let her go. Why we bruise so easily, but never manage to draw blood.
I'm full.
Of your secrets, of mine. It's all pressed against the glasssteaming, writhing, writing.
I'm full.
Fraying at the stitching.
The threads that keep me to you to me.
I'm full.
Sometimes, I want to freeze our moments. Like the people burnt out and saved, all at once, by the ash from volcanoes. I want to fill those casts with glitter, sparkle babies of you and me, so that when they explode, when everything is shattered and all that's left is rust and stardust, it'll look like a magic trick.
I'm full. Worn and rough, aching.
When it comes to us, it's better to never ever ever ever ever wonder why. Why the wretched feelings are the only, the best, feelings. Why there's so much joy when we're tearing worlds apart. Why Aphrodite could be so cruel, and why the sea God never just let her go. Why we bruise so easily, but never manage to draw blood.
hush.
Sometimes you kiss me and I'm sure that I'm unravelling slowly. One day, we'll both be surprised to find me a pile of ribbons in our bed.I hope the strands fall about in a pattern that will make you smile.Sometimes you look at me and I know that you see right through it, the painted eyes and the way I bite lips (yours and mine). You're in all the corners perfect for hide-and-seek and there's no room for me there anymore. Sometimes I touch you and I feel my own heartbeat. It makes sense, and sometimes I think I should keep it there, in the trapped bit between my breasts and your spine. How forward of me.Sometimes we breathe in unison, when we're still and wrapped around each other. I don't think you notice that.
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