Writing, Ideas, & Stories
can hear the singing
two buildings over
three stories up,
she’s cooking dinner
she loves Otis Redding
can see her shadow sometimes
as she spins by;
she saw me once
waved and went about
she had her hair up,
maybe she was cleaning,
i wish i was wearing a better shirt-
next time
she said
there was no heaven
i asked her what she would go after
she said to the mall
chances are
you’ll forget;
the long nights
the honest hours
the weakness;
and remember our last fight.
just stay an extra night
will waive the fee
the loose change
free of charge round trip flight
take a minute and relax
was it that serious
she spilled a drink on you;
flares burst like the fourth of July
she’ll never forget this night,
four seasons passed
n as she woke from her bed at the four seasons
from her comfort nightmare
i failed you
an exam i missed
to hide away
to blow these streets
leavin’ our sheets
retail feats
knock me off my feet
fallin’
failin’.
your eyes are subtle reminders
that these ties were never crossed
left on eye level finders
and lossed-
one day i will forgive myself
just not on this calendar
circle a time
when the clocks hands are down
when i can see my own eyes
in your reflection
i see it
i see us over and over in my head
like a movie still caught on fire,
frame rate below thirty
i remember a lot
memories flow throughout the day
like a runaway dam
i see it
and numb to the feeling
thought i’d seen it all
haven’t seen anything until i saw you
you broke all the rules
if there ever were
just loose guidelines
story of my life
loose and never rooted for the hurricane
hear the voices climbing in
through the door under the pile of books
only you know where that door is;
you love to take control
drive around the block a few times
be spiteful as you give the keys back
& back out the trap door,
i worry the day you never
turn the controls back
i find myself selfish
in the most uncommon time
looking for god
in the hottest time
picking up the phone
in the middle of the desert,
wrath is laughing
greed is smiling
and gluttony shovels what’s left
nothing much
just a nightmare with a side of depression
in a desert
Saint's Muse 