Writing, Ideas, & Stories
i watched you
walk away
and walk back
patter around in circles
chasing your tail
digging a hole
burying a bone;
i watched you
give life to a dead body
rising from ashes
a part that was long gone
a part that had given up-
i watched you preform a miracle,
not a spell or a wish
effort and a gift,
force fed-
stuck around to hear your service
blinking light came on
oil check, but was fed your lies
you’ll need to stick around and remove your eyes
change your ears and optional but would reccomend
a heart pump change
for somethng out of your shop;
a discount you swear
this pump will be different you swear
limping from your shop
everything disconnected
and the service light is off
i fell for you
actually
still falling no bottom in sight
i am falling for you
a marathon that gets better and better
a show that is renewed every year
it gets better and better no filler
i record every episode
i like to watch them on my free time
or when i’m not free
and you’ll take me captive
i’ll wake up in my own bed
and i’ll put on reruns
i wouldn’t let this go
i wouldn’t let this die
i’m not your average guy
i’m not going to dig an empty grave and wait
i’ll show you everyday
i’ll show you that i’m that fucking guy
every day
every moment
waiting for our next dance
waiting for our favorite song
i ask for this dance;
your hand in mine
the curve of my palm at curve of your waist
we won’t waste the song
either my own or one that is slow-
slow enough so our steps sync with our beat
it is
unique
our beat
drums come
the night
stay; in
our arms
we will
dance till
our hearts
recall
every
note played;
the song
our song we will humb on the way home
humb in our bed
humb in our dreams
the golden x on the map
was your address
across unnamed land
a festival featuring a panda as a king
around the parade featuring that same panda
i’ll bring you flowers and a stuffed bear
yes, the panda from the festival
and will come back for cotton candy
patience was a gift;
gift from a screaming child
with a torch burning down the rafters-
as the smoke fills this locked shrine
my sense of justice leaves my eyes
the stained glass melts through my palms
the child hands me the torch
vanishes
into the black of the night
like a piccolo pete
it’s what home smells like
the aroma carries my clothes in my place
like a soft hand across my cheek
floating-
a memory shaped in a circle
never-ending
a reminder that you were here,
but when the scent fades
i crave you
a little taste to carry me for the week and the next
to be closer to home
found on the tip of your lips
the palm of your hands around my waist
leaving your lavender imprint on my chest
burning deep enough
so home is always with me
i want it more than you
so keep my name out of your mouth
i don’t have the ego for this era
and it’s on the low
you can read my name from your couch
you’ll go to the internet and vouch
that your time was stolen
that i never punched out
this wasn’t your shift
and this isn’t overtime
i’ve been here putting in two times
working two times as hard
putting in two times the effort
and you’ll complain two times as much
but i never learned your name
but you know my story
i worry that i’ve wrote it before
said it before
and the words lose meaning
like white out to a dictionary
i mutter white noise
it’s not that this was my goal
or i over say these words
i don’t want you to question or forget
i don’t believe in ten seconds you’ll forget
it’s the eleventh i want to be remembered
and after the twelfth i’ll be there to hold you
thirty i’ll build you a fort that we can live in
a map will be in your email in the morning
Saint's Muse 