I blamed you
for turning that corner.
Falling three stories
breaking four ribs
on fifth Avenue.
Your dazzling gleam
and a cell phone.
It’s all I could
recall
when the sirens rang.
Writing, Ideas, & Stories
I blamed you
for turning that corner.
Falling three stories
breaking four ribs
on fifth Avenue.
Your dazzling gleam
and a cell phone.
It’s all I could
recall
when the sirens rang.
Chance is that they
will give up. Would not
be the first time.
Chance is they’ll drive
right past our
mute faces.
Chance is she
won’t pick up
the phone.
Chance is that
tonight
it will be different.
Chance is that if
you take the chance
chances is you
will
get a second chance.
Hold my hand my son
We will sing through Snowy pause
To capture Christmas
I saw you
from way down here.
Polishing stones
to throw at my head.
We talked that whole night.
They said young love
was the sweetest
but I didn’t bite
hard.
We talked that whole night
just like the good ol’ days.
Doesn’t matter how many miles
I run
can never out run that feeling.
The shadow grips
the ankle of my boot
and drags me through
the mud and through
a mirror.
Trapped I breathe
the shrill emptiness
and the fear that
follows him around.
I use to blink every time
you came around
to make sure
I wasn’t seeing things.
Heavenly scented dreams
filled my sheets
for the night
and the next.
I fell last night.
Across the moon
but the stars
couldn’t catch me.
Direct light
but
he couldn’t
face me.
Time wouldn’t go all in
but she could match me.
Twenty’s weren’t enough
to keep me flying
but this crash
will be memorable.
Drop out
bail
on the path
we paved.
Night time stroll
swinging hands
along imagined
homes.
We built this.
Casting shadows
around the light
our blueprints.
Waiting for the
light
to cast again.
He howls at the peak
suddle creak around
to greet a wandering
lost soul.
Chattering his fangs
at the volley
brushing the ends
of his claws against
the tips of his mane.
He’ll call
but no one answers
only runs.
Breaking colors over
unenforced lines
to mimic.
Cracked teeth
spilled peaches
spoiled truth.
Tracked knights tales
beat down reality
now
drawing in the lines.