i can’t say no
to you
i envy
the power
you have
over me
power that
could rule man
yet
all you want
is something quiet
Tag: Lovers
slow down time, just for a second
you catch my eye
every time you walk by
like it was the first time,
i’ll hold those seconds like a treasure
in the back of my mind
just for me;
last seconds
in my last seconds
i’ll see our lives played out;
fast forwarded and muted
window shopping
a green slide
moving vans
swimming pools
ringing bells
ringing
ring
passing athena on the 57 north
one day;
i’ll wake up in a cloud of your perfume
and never come back
butterfly stroke
i feel you like water between my fingers
swimming inside you
breath being held for hours
this is my comfort place
stroke in motion
pool of clear water
in the backyard
you are home.
winnie; mad man
you taste like honey
in my memories you taste like honey
honey trust me i’ll be your pot
keep you safe
in all of our haste
everything we have faced
never stopped to put them in their place
it was all not a waste
attached at the waist
at your side i could never be erased
tell them all that i am that man
a lover a single dedicated brand
crowd pleaser one you always have to stan
i’ve been that man
this is the ground plan
i gave up being that madman
white picket castle; pitchfork mob
i don’t believe you
like i used to
words fall from heavy tongue
braiding my hair with twisted fingers
not like how you used to
memory of our night
carries me like a knight
off to the kingdom
sleeping
without a thought
of the fire outside
if you ask me, i’m ready
for the one in the back
that never got their chance;
keep fighting,
the front is a mosh pit;
dirty, violent and savagery
your kind heart wasn’t meant for this world
waiting for your wings to grow
an angel watching us from above
hidden quiz; makeup. on.
sometimes, this is difficult
to beg for answers
everthing is truly a test
but this should have been open book
games being played
answers written on your hand
and i can’t even see the scantron;
laid it down
you, the one in the gown
pride of the hometown
strutting, wearin’ that crown
not ready for that showdown
but this is that countdown
wear it on my chest, i’m that proper noun
but i’m the one that looks like a fucking clown.
the wanderer
the wanderer has no reflection
a boulder tumbling down a road
left bloody by her wife
wonderous by her mistress
alone by her husband
the wanderer has no reflection
they; walk
to find
something
a no name feeling
a response to a question
on a dotted line
written in invisible ink
revealed by
well
the wanderer doesn’t know
if you know
and you see the wanderer
on the road you avoid most
let her know
she misses her wife
Saint's Muse 