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?