Writing, Ideas, & Stories
i can’t stay away if i wanted to
your hands melt my skin
leaves handprints behind like wet cement
i could never wash you away
like hunger i crave you
your lips against my skin
sends my nerves in to all hands on deck emergency
it is a power outage inside
body unlocks like an orange being peeled
and your love is the knife
i know i have been in your thoughts
i woke up and my legs were shaking
roaming corridors i once lived finding myself a tourist
a map with rooms crossed out and a new name written
on brown tape-
renting or buying
a night affair or a lifetime package
why was i brought to witness;
a chance to outbid
or walk down a memory lane with caution tape
boarding off every entrance,
the tape was my doing
but the exhibits were made to last
and i wonder
how many double a batteries
it would take
lost in a graveyard
found six feet under
it was never meant to end this way
or maybe it was
maybe i choose to ignore the signs on the road
the endless yelling of choosing poorly
but right now was meant for the hollow
a cross of a god that was never my god
a cross for the forsaken or the loved
holds the seal tight
i would challenge him but
he is a god so that seems dumb-
against his wishes i will rise;
turn my hands into shovels and rise
the bottom could never hold a spirit like mine
a heart with everything still to give
stories left to be told
work still to be done
and
the last season of game of thrones
still to be watched
a little lost now
following a kite
map shredded
two nights to get it
and i have never felt, whatever this is-
a chilling call
not a heroes call
an endless brawl through the nights free-for-all
and i have been losing
easier to count the small moments when i felt everything was whole
can do it with one hand
do not see the second being used
yet to push aside this feeling of being used
left beaten and bruised
to lay in the coldest of night
with nothing but a stringless kite
loving someone else is impossible
unless you love yourself first
i find comfort in solace
to retreat to my corner write a rhyme
it is an organized crime, murder- right before bedtime
yet
solace is never kept lonely
i carved my space in this world built on fiction
i will not blame anyone for not being real
made it myself love the appeal
check on the time but that is not real
blood on the walls carved from stainless steel-
solace is my emergency contact
it knows i exist
just never picks up
we are worth more then one chance
i usually deploy a weak baseball rule
three strikes
but weak because i can never call anyone out
even when they deserve it-
bad shit comes in threes(bleed)
should have been a breeze(beast)
fucked around caught your disease(21)
you have been out for years
kept you around against my wishes
missed the days when it was simple
dimples and smiles got you in the door
war followed and never stopped-
sometimes you just know-
i do not know how to explain it or to express or tell you to guess what it feels like
but i can feel it
in the tips of my fingers
it is you
the late nights the date nights the great fights
i only want that
with you
a show always getting a new season
no reboots maybe a spinoff
little jet on his own;
a show with its ups and downs but we hold strong
a model for those to say i want that
a jim and pam a marshall and lily tv sweethearts;
this script is tender and soft
but with you it is always right
burning in my chest i need you here
a cure but temporary need hourly doses
of your potion and you will always have roses
so you know that you are chosen
a star in the show, a star to me
nobody else fits that role
it is in our dna
like a skeleton in our closet-
we were made through violence
the quake in my clench fist
was the same in my past life;
it is not what i am here for
to lay down the sword and wield a shield like cap
i will use words to diffuse
this fuse and the only bomb that will drop
are f bombs to clear the fucking rubble
history only outlines today
but will still build an empire
an euphoria haven of shields
cutting fields of old patterns
burying violence in a grave marked yesterday
i prayed once-
like a message in a bottle i threw it in an ocean of many
they clinked together like after a toast-
or a prayer
i do not know if they will ever get to mine or which god answers the phone
maybe it is like the lotto system and we are all on hold
waiting for our number to be called like the dmv;
the bottle was ordinary but the paper was special
out of a journal with muses on the cover
thought they would get a laugh out of that-
whatever god; he she it just know i was in a dark place
darkened scribes on a windy night
saying hello to the moon inches from a fall-
i would not bother you guys
if it was not important
was hoping to get into the priority lane
but i have missed church a few hundred times so i get it
just need something to go right-
anything;
Saint's Muse 