Please Check Your Coats At The Door

.... and continue on to fourstarheart.blogspot.com

To Render Me Speechless Just Ask Me Where I'm From

Do you know the way you look in imaginary white, or the way you wear a bed-sheet like a dress? These are things I've imagined, hoping to hear you one day say... "I do." 

Your smile was a makeshift sunset for my eyelids... inspiring me to write it all down. Show me an hour glass and I'll show you how to make a Molotov cocktail... just to start a riot on time itself. Please tell me it's not too late to tear out the pages, scatter the ashes, and let this life unfold.

There are fibers inside us all that make us exactly the same... subconsciously crashing thoughts like chemistry. Usually it's never as bad as it seems in our own heads, or in those seconds when it seems like nobody else can empathize. The truth is... as reluctant as we are to admit it we all just want to strike the match, watch it all burn, and use the light to catch the train back home.

I'm so sorry for the barricades. I'm forever tearing at them during the day, as they rebuild themselves over night. It's a never ending battle in my chest. 

When I looked into your eyes I saw walking wires, climbing walls, and the gracious dancer in you. I was no acrobat, so I just kept looking forward, hoping that you'd glance back as I was stranded in your rear view, and this four star heart.

2012 leads here.... FourStarHeart.blogspot.com  ..... hope you'll follow.

Fridays Were for Literature

My heart feels like an intercepted package that was meant for you, but somehow got off track. Would you sign for it the next time we cross paths?

There is a breadcrumb trail of loneliness that leads back to a classroom at Columbia where I saw you last.  I've been in a shy world lately, though there have been thoughts of you picking at my mind like it was a lock.  The pleasure, the afterthought, the missing tombstone to mark where our eyes first met... these are things that keep you top of mind.

The fountains that line memory lane are now covered in ice, and I just want to feel like a coin being tossed in them again... to know that someone believes in me enough to make a wish.  True love as an escape route. In a time of hope we don't really sleep... we just write.  Promise you'll find me soon?

Omaheartache

I am the starving bear this autumn, craving an iceberg between the shoulder blades. That shovel in my grave is keeping my foot out of it.

Troubled thoughts hit sidewalks. I put ours to the pavement, only to circle back and struggle with the key in the door. Home will forever be in your stare, and I'm locked out.

This is me... standing tirelessly in front of the mirror, picturing myself with your hand in mine.

"I've Read About The Afterlife, But I've Never Really Lived"

Waking up for the first time. Please give up on me.

We are all just an arsenal aimed at each other. This is me... Swearing to never aim towards you. This is not me saying that I'm sorry... because who am I to be stealing your lines? I used to see you outside my window, more than I ever saw myself. 31 floors up and down. Trick shots to the mind.

I hit "copy/delete" more than anyone. Second guessing is for the second city, and I'm safely home.

The carelessness that ran through my veins pulsed itself out. Guess I'm running on hope and loneliness. Full steam ahead. Chasing my dreams, trying to run along side or hitch a ride. Full hearted drifter.

Full circle decade.

Remix This Heart

Humid... blood in these veins. Causing my thoughts to stick together as the stories she can't relay reveal themselves in slurs and stutters.

The friction of her twisting words, like kindling.... catching hearts on fire. Mournful whispers pressed against ears. Empty threats make for empty beds. I want to teach her eyes to lie, tell her to save her voice for the big ones... but I'm to busy walking home, head down, writing myself to pieces.

Hallways and staircases. Scenes for our mistakes. Where there is love there is war, and another casualty in my head.

O'Hare or Midway?

I'll uncross my heart and hope to live if you'll promise to crash upon my shore like you mean it. A thousand days misplaced beneath the waves, there is a ship that sunk with you in mind. Nameless.

A moth lives for only one day, yet it never wavers... as if the ground was never an option. Promise to always be that way. The way that flowers never weep upon the arrival of winter. The moon towards the dawn. Me and you.