Cut & Paste

I awaken to the sound of a girl
breathing lightly in her sleep.
Confided in the walls of her room
bounded in blankets and sheets.

Her hair falls freely on her pillow
as her stomach rises and falls.
Her body faces toward me
and her arm rest under my side.

How sweet she is in this soft moment
and I know I must remember to hold it
soft within the pocket of my heart
after the task of the day tears us apart.

Away from the one that fills me
with an abundance of transparency.
Transparency without the curse of fear
because she can be trusted with my safety.

Her mouth twitches and her eyes tighten
and she moves a little closer to my side.
Her hand scans a part of my arm
as she falls a little out of sleep.

I lean over to kiss her forehead
and to touch the quiet cheek
of the one that let me in her bed
and has me completely in sweet captivity.

Her eyes open
and she smiles
and I feel as if
I am in a painting.


Where the pieces of this poem are found:

record player
chipotle hat
starbucks tea
pet food

Cut & Paste

Love Is Disaster

I live upon this fault line
where a single touch can shake
this world of mine
sending me to pieces.

I am drowning in a flash flood
of insecurities
breaking skyscrapers to the sinking mud
of what is me.

And when the winds blow
I’ll be swept off my feet
into the swirling tornado
of love not returned to me.

It’s cold inside my blizzard
of an untrusting heart.
In this cold winter
I will die alone.

Love Is Disaster

You Were The House I Wanted To Grow Old In (XXXVI)

I had been falling for you
the whole month of last June.
I was just a homeless boy
with everything to gain
and nothing to lose.

Your windows were your eyes
casting a warm light
through this cold room
that found me on the couch
the sun was in my eyes.

I felt at home with you
panic attacks in the bathroom
our bodies had the same marks
we were dark from the same heart
blackened by our ex’s.

I had moved into your heart
and closed all the blinds
and boarded the door shut
cranked up the heat
hoping to warm you from the inside.

I felt lucky to have you
and proud when your hand
was holding mine.
Saturday St. Valentine
I grew insecure.

By December gray skies
seasonal depression
situational depression
self inflicted depression
thank you for your safety.

But than you left me
and evicted me from your heart
and now that room no longer exist
as you fill it with something
or someone else.

I remember that one time
when I asked if you liked
me all tatted up and you cried.
I had already lost your respect
when I reclused into you.

I haven’t been looking for a new house
because I love you (as a concept) and
me (as a house cat) that is turning feral
in the cold streets and bottles of whiskey
I am a ghost that no one wants to see.

You blocked all my desperate calls
held my love under water through silence
drowning my love for you out
it is my problem now
I just wish I would drown.

You Were The House I Wanted To Grow Old In (XXXVI)

I Told You That I Loved You

I know that I called it love
showered you with compliments
made sure that your cup was never empty
and made you laugh at the expense of me.

Your face showed your vulnerability
as you scanned the room of strangers.
You didn’t sense the hidden danger
of the intentions of my selfish heart.

I got you back to my place and kissed you sweet
on the lips and than to your forehead, hand on hips.
I could feel as your knees went weak
when I rubbed your back as I held you against me.

We went inside and went to my room
where I turned on some music to set the mood
and flipped on the Christmas lights, all blue
and turned off the main light to set the glow.

We fell onto each other in a passionate way
as you straddled me I moved the hair from your face
and you started grinding and moaning
as my fingers started warming you up.

My performance lasted longer than expected
and I found every nook of pleasure inside you.
I could tell your mind was blown
and your legs were still shaking.

You went to lie down, but I pulled you to your feet
and told you I was no good for you, hell, I’m no good for me.
Handed you your shit and told you to get the fuck out
and pushed you half naked out of the door.

I know that I told you that I loved you
but you see
I have a habit of saying things
that I don’t really mean.

I Told You That I Loved You

Bar Fight

The time is 12:35
sun down, it’s night.
Just got in a bar fight
route four, time to drive.

The cops were on their way
and I knew I couldn’t stay.
I knew I would say
“Is there a problem off-if-ther?”

The wind in my beard
eye punched shut
hands fucked up
from some beat up schmuck.

I feel my dark soul
leak into my knuckles
on the steering wheel
tempted to turn

95 into the median
belt off through a windshield
won’t wake up again
dying on the sideline.

Baby, I am back
boot to hat black.
Soul darker than that
wanting to end everything.

Bar Fight

I Am The Ocean

I am the deepest and darkest of the earth’s oceans
hidden beneath the rolling surface of my skin
emotional currents stir somewhere within
trapped behind the windows of my eyes.

Five feet in me the sun reaches from the skies;
beneath that there is darkness
so frightening you do not dare to explore
So never changing I do not feel anything anymore.

Few have romanticized my vast mysteries,
and for weeks set ship upon my beautiful blue seas;
but stayed upon their vessel decks of wooden safeties,
hoping to see the whale of my consciousness.

Though there are a few who sailed, there are fewer less,
who submarine or dive far within my chest
searching for my heart of gold that I repressed
due to hurricanes and my most painful shipwrecks.

As people we distantly experience one another from the land
because it is easier to find it in ourselves.
Reprehend the man whose hand tries to understand
and touch the heart of a woman to hold her treasures.

For she assumes that I have shallow motives at most,
or will release my sea monsters turning her to a ghost
from my life, apartment, and the depths of my chest
and steal her heart of gold buried in her shipwrecks.

So I quickly retreat back to the numbness of my deep sea
left forever, for good, to be alone and misunderstood.
In the brightness of my day I will portray the reflection of the sun
in the darkness of my night I will comply the reflection of the moon.

I Am The Ocean