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Literature Text
i am sleeping for my thoughts
and this night that breathes never shuts
up. i can hear your voice through the
walls, a crackling of telephone
static without a destination. halfway
around the world through lost
transmissions, i wish for your
particles so i can keep who you
were and the way our memories track
through electrical pathways mean
nothing if they can't make the journey back
home. i've remembered half the things
i meant to forget and none of the things i
meant to say. i can't make heads
or tails of these thoughts of mine or
yours, but we fall asleep anyway to
our circadian rhythms because this
is where love goes to die.
and this night that breathes never shuts
up. i can hear your voice through the
walls, a crackling of telephone
static without a destination. halfway
around the world through lost
transmissions, i wish for your
particles so i can keep who you
were and the way our memories track
through electrical pathways mean
nothing if they can't make the journey back
home. i've remembered half the things
i meant to forget and none of the things i
meant to say. i can't make heads
or tails of these thoughts of mine or
yours, but we fall asleep anyway to
our circadian rhythms because this
is where love goes to die.
Literature
interstitial.shuffling
interstitial
shuffling,
between bass music
and crazy looking floors
caught stuck dancing,
between the cocaine beat
and the existential shadow.
blinking blankly between,
trapped, I mean,
between the image and the afterburn,
incessant ringing of the slot machines,
celebrate everything
carpet
strategically designed
to ensnare me
in kaleidoscopic fences
cafe attendant
bizarrely happy to see me
escalators,
are fun-house mirrors
to catch the light of
dim fluorescents
please kill me
if I ever un-ironically use that shade of mauve
that painting in the corner,
Literature
on the cusp
it is just that when i let go of you
when i let go
it's hard to remain that perfect without you.
--
the in-between of love, buds- so full of potential
our love is written in whispers on the pages
of a book which has not yet been opened.
--
that day, the sun had erased the last lines
of an unforgiving winter from my skin, i was renewed
olive skinned and feeling as if i had just fled the eternal
garden naked as i came- free, fallen.
--
the sky was dark;
nothing but the blood red smile of the moon
cut through the transient darkness of the night.
Literature
Poems
Once in an era ship sailed beyond
They sank below the eternal blue
And their mark would be left
As the eternal blue grew so did the mark
Once in a lifetime story are told
Their story was what left of them
The eternal touch they left for us
Untold truth remembered for Tomorrow
Remembered mistake kept for tomorrow
Keeping away the waiting beast
If the beast awake soon death follow
Keeping keys locked and answers be lost
Suggested Collections
12:54am
1/13/10
nothing is as it seems.
pretty unedited.
i was angry when i wrote this.
title = from a stars song
♥
1/13/10
nothing is as it seems.
pretty unedited.
i was angry when i wrote this.
title = from a stars song
♥
Comments15
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Just adore the phrase "circadian rhythms". 
I think you meant "and none of the things i meant to say" six lines up from the bottom, though.
I think you meant "and none of the things i meant to say" six lines up from the bottom, though.