you are a distant dream
just behind the sky's eyelids
where you toss and turn
walking with graves
clouded by empty sounds and high, breezy voices
that never seem to stop their whispering.
have you ever wanted something so distant
searching for it everywhere you go
needing the warmth through frozen, hollow bones
have you ever thought your life is so excellent
compared to the stained others
and you should not be worried or sad or anything
because you are a dream
and you almost wish
some tornado would fly through your hair
so you would have something to say
something for people to care about
your mouth has nothing to say but cobwebs that come tumbling out
on top of the autumn rooftops
and you want the slate to fall through
because it hurts so much when the snow coats your skin
what i want is a lot more than you will ever see
no one ever wanted me when i was young and blue-skinned
so i danced with snowflakes
but always alone.
&i ask again,
are you written on the walls?
am i really a summer girl
when i always felt like a child
born into winter, skewed by spindling tree branches . ?
the only limbs i wanted to touch me.
what if we never ran through those empty parking lots
in the middle of the night
bathed in yellow streetlight breath?
i wonder if we would still be .
i am a warm glass painting on your lungs
like the cigarettes you kissed at dawn
when the world was empty as the midnight parking lots .
that is what i desire to be.
you always sortof believed in destiny
just as you always sortof believed in god
everything was a half-effort
because really, you didn't believe in any of those things.
you pretended for a while
to make things easier
but i always thought all or nothing;
everything or not at all.
i am not at all.
i am not at.
i am not.
you now sleep, but if you were awake
i would tell you
everything and more
i believe you are imaginary.]