rubber feelingand you...rubber feeling by breathingglassstars
succubus tongue, thistle jaw,
you break teeth
in, lashes straight rods
fanning outward, forehead drawing
lines to match mine.
gazing, looking for the answer
to whether you feel me
between your lungs somewhere.
i want to grow big in that warm glow
you splash from your pupils
but my eyes grow dim, distant,
paling, bothered by shade, small,
wishing for enough space inside my
cavern walls, wet caves, bat-filled.
the ghosts of another's fingers crest
the notches of your backbone still--
she's here, even when i prove i'm here.
i'm here, begging "look in me"
and find exactly what you're fishing
for; battered girl on tile floor,
imagined bleach stains,
pale blood eyes and damp smell.
you will discover me soon,
understand behind wide-eyed
tenderness i am
weepy, crooked, desperate
for a thing called "love"--
that limp word i carried
in summer like a dead carcass
in my arms--
back before i knew your name.
old oak eyes
before a ne
backwardswe're back in delicate city drinking raspberry lattes like it's summer and nothing ever happened. your mother let you come outside to smell the yellow-colored roses in shop windows and reflect over the glazed smell of baking in the morning. she doesn't know i'm here. we sit on benches and chain smoke virginia slims like pastors' wives.backwards by breathingglassstars
"where've you been?" i ask you.
"busy, i guess. hardly seeing anyone. but look, i'm progressing. i want you to know that."
raspberry, sticky-sweet, drips down our throats. it's been forever, lifetimes almost, since you first turned on me, tried hitting me like i was the reason you were suffering. the flash of your red-flamed face looms in memory. my heartbeats run faster.
"what did they do to you?"
"gave me lots of sedatives. took me into rooms when i got too riled up about something. calmed me down by zonking me out into this half-sleeping state all the time. it worked, i guess. i don't feel so much anymore. nothing gets through. but look, look, i am...
coals die downquite mysterious, i'mcoals die down by breathingglassstars
suddenly driven mad by
the harsh lines of your brow bone
and the shelf of your collarbone.
on wednesdays, i wake up
over you like dead water
sticky with mosquitoes on those
moonless nights when we're
conscious of penetrating darkness,
when our whispers mix and we're
forced into oblivion selected
by celestial cycles. sleep.
so i wander to your eyelids
and let my gaze sweep like full-moon
hands and fall back asleep, lifted
up by the drawing of your breath.
i am growing oldfinding sequences of afternoons where i'mi am growing old by breathingglassstars
fumbling around in a dark gray room
trying to uncover pathways never
opened in me, grown from patches
of organic cells to give me home,
let other people waste me away on
summer sunday, 3 p.m. when nothing's happening.
i try to explore cavities, opening
myself up for light to burn and allow
nostalgia to weep from empty wounds
almost like tears or rain.
and then all the pieces of me
will evaporate cleanly like freckles
lifted from skin after winter shows.
i peel myself from cold tiles
covered in daisies, i remind myself
of the way bodies should work
like machines in the nighttime
and docile animals in the morning
when the sun won't stop for anyone.
we don't remember the passage
of time as each second wastes,
forgotten, another moment gone
as it blooms inside my head and dies,
this action, this moment before the dark
with lights carelessly going out,
has meaning only to me, for
moments leave me powerless, whimpering
blackbirda little birdie told me you had been a wreck,blackbird by churchmouth
trapped him inside, threatened to break his neck
if he came chirping back to me
but as you left you dropped the key.
well i couldn't believe what i was hearing,
went to open my mouth but he kept jeering
about how your heart was on your sleeve.
i told the bird he had misconceived
for he was describing someone totally new,
but he swore up and down that it was you.
well, after all the misery you put me through
i don't give a fuck if you are blue.
big black body of waterso i guess it is like we are a lot like a two lane highway. you are one side, and i am the other. if you stand in any singular place you will look and see the same stretch of asphalt and tar. there are two yellow lines. one belongs to me, one belongs to you. i guess at some points there will be holes in me and bumps in you. but we are still the same in the most opposite of ways becausebig black body of water by Reverberations
i am heading north. you are heading south. and maybe we cross each other on the way down but we are never after the same purpose. going to or from and i guess it has to be that way because that is the way wind is and birds are and if god had a body, well hell, he'd be that way too
and well shit. you know if we were both on the same path there would just be too much. and i guess that's the main part of it is that if both of us are harboring the same great sadness or the same great hope it is just too goddamn much. maybe we are that important
people always talk about the irrelevance of an individual course
riveri will never be beautiful like you areriver by Reverberations
fast paced crazy don't take no shit beautiful
but god i would be happy to just be around you for
i am the fire in my own heart and you
have built a home for me
out of the embers
a glowing flickering perfect home.
and god i am safe with you. you are
the kindness within me and within yourself
and i just hope that you will stay.