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poems? poems.
Current mood:  content
no one has to read these. (:
tonight he drinks champagne, with the beatiful and wasted
and 3 floors up she drinks in freedom, it's the best she's ever tasted
taking down her memories, one and two by one,
she's making room for a new right someone
yearning the tomorrow, and yesterdays, to come.
look down, and his locked door says 'do not open' -
because that's where he hides the horrible truth.
he looks out the window and sees his own face
but from a different time, and a different place -
from a different view, she's dusting her hands and watching the frame fall.
10 flights more, and glass with become tesserae
beautiful, not wasted.
we are the invincible.
lucky, you say?
where, when,
how in what way?
for we see what's unseen, and
what are intrigues
to eyes whole and ever clean?
bruises and hoards lay uniformly precise
in corn rows of revenge, dirt love and lice.
the idle breezes of logic, and perhaps hope,
manage to stir nothing, yet touch each thing.
rows, rows, rows, and registers
all of it dry, and none of it dead...
but all of us are crying.
crying, crying, crying, in the same bitty bucket
it's not enough to save our Mother.
we are the invincible, and we are the scorned.
rockaway rockaway rockaway baby
rock with me to the beach
and we'll swing and go crazy
we'll dance to different tunes
but we'll both know the words
i'll whisper it in your ear
and you can scream it in mine
we'll just laugh and swing baby
our hearts and our shoes
they're tapping in time
we're only young, and expectant
chasing a starlight
one that fades
the closer you get
what's to get?
zero gravity's a bitch.
skip skip skip
an angel's on my lip
telling me where puddles are,
and "careful not to slip"
tap tap tap
a demon's on my lap
if i get the words all wrong
my knuckles get a rap
did i not warn you, that my heart,
'tis made of glass so thin
yet on the floor it's shattered.
like paper hearts and cracks in the stone,
never whole again.
like light's release the day will come
he'll gather my heart, piece by piece
with gentle hands he'll mold it back
to say nothing, and hear,
"this, i will not break"
i wait.
that wish that you wish, for it to come true
it's as likely you'll find that same shooting star, and at the same time, too.
c'est la vie, c'est la vie, et il vous appelle
you won't find your dream come true
if you're waiting for it to come to you.
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