I wonder what you would do
if I told you
your dreams are useless, doomed to failure
your love is unrequited, a false trap, a lure
your happiness is false, transient like bubbles
your mornings full of sunshine, trouble
will turn to evenings full of longing
unfulfilled, unhappy, tragic, wronging
like the setting sun, miserable in muddy brown
your age, so invincible (now), will let you down
your mind will betray you, have you talking blabber
the ghosts of your loneliness will soon gather,
celebrate your funeral within
years before your innards decay, soaked in sin.
Would you crumble into a pile
fall, look at me with glazed eyes
or would you fight (for) me, punch me down
kiss me goodnight, with hope in your mouth?
For I’m Portia, my love
and all the caskets have death written unto them –
but the bronze one has hope, perhaps a new dawn
and so we live on
and so we live on. … More Shakes-a-pear
So much confined in a single word.
Like falling into an abyss without a bottom. Falling, terrified to accept that I am. (…) … More And if I stared too long, I’d probably break down and cry
The floor you run upon
Is bound to fall
The cage you’re running from
Will call with love
The bridges you burnt
The people you hurt … More For a heart in a heartless town
You slow everything down
with the tips of your fingers. … More Winter’s love
I come from a galaxy of thoughts, each bent on making myself occupy as little space as possible. I come from clenched fists, refusing to let go of scars and stories. I come from one eye on the dark movie screen and one on the exit door (just in case). I come from flimsy sweaters … More Since I had a loaded gun
When you go away,
as you will –
I shall send you postcards from the edge. (…) … More Postcards from the edge
I imagine you as hash under my fingernails. A heady reminder of the night that was, hard to remove, harder to forget. I come traipsing back to you, like an addict, somehow each time hungrier for more. Your effect lingers, in the way I look at myself in the mirror, in the way I do … More Hash
Tell me about your day
about how you took your chai
and whether the cigarette lit up on the first try (…) … More Tell me
You’re a sliver.
A sliver of ash.
A sliver of ash from the fire that comes when a spark ignites. (…) … More (Not) Mine
I remember you.
The lines on your face.
The crease of your smile.
The constant wetness of your eyes. (…) … More Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low