the snow sits softly
on a porch a gave myself to years ago
it makes a promise I could never keep
to die here
to live here
I see the intersection poetry
I see the future pulling past
I can get out of here
raise the sails and set the mast
you'll be beauty pictures
you'll be my last real agenda
I've not seen anything
to tell me I was never here
make me ask the questions
to the story I tell myself
so I can come back here
foresaking heart and health
let me back one more time
so I can see the cutest things
I'd only cut myself up for back then
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Monday, December 06, 2010
nothing of everything
i liked it better in your apartment
when it was summer & it was stifling hot
so hot it made the sidewalks expand
& let the ground breathe
but no, not like me
the stagnancy of your air
made it difficult to stretch my lungs
it’s not anything like that,
no, not anymore
we’re closing in on winter
& you’ll soon be bitter cold
so cold it makes the sidewalks contract
& my first conscious breath will be stolen
when we lie in a bed
so frozen it makes us tremor
& you don’t hold me at night
no, not the way you used to
in the throws of loveless limbs
using yesterday evening’s cigarette butts
to move tonight’s ashes aside
blowing smoke into your ceilings
between sips of whiskey & cider
making sure your poisons are kept pure
i see those other women in your eyes
wearing your lovers’ clothes
& your coughs don’t concern me
cause i’ve got one more smoke than you
& if i could just get inside your head
i’d pack my shit & leave
just remember,
your hair’s gonna fall out
your teeth are gonna rot
your ears will go deaf
your eyes will go blind.
you’ll eventually think yourself to death
which i find foolish
when it’s a hell of a lot easier
to drink yourself dry.
Fabricated by oxenfree at 3:02:00 PM 1 reflections
...and then there was oxenfree