the passionate fury of the sun- redone

if you gave me your heart, i would put it in a zip-lock baggie, over ice. but before that, before you start to strategically retrace the forgotten lines where unkind people stole your innocent mind like...leaving scars on your chest where the stitches tore apart, i would start to reach for the part of myself that would tell you to put it away. i would have to find the right words to say what i mean, and i mean, i dream for you to stay right here and touch the part of my neck that hasn't been kissed by the breath of your eyes, yet. but do it again, over and over. i would just as soon chose death and die rather than never again taste your lips in my mind, and i cry as i try to find one unkind reason not to see you again, but i can't, which is so good.

if you could stop to see for a second, what you do to me; a cataclysmic state of perpetual bliss, my body shivers not to miss this...my dreams shake; i am awake for the first time in my life and it's because of you. inside my soul burns the unseen desire to change in me what it is i see reflected in the world around us both. unspoken and true, i turn the beauty i see in you into a light radiating into the dark future of uncertain...beyond physical pleasures where my soul spins around in unison...in a constant state of searching for where exactly i end and you begin. you're different, and i think i love you for it. i don't want to stop spinning, or searching for you.

often times i find you try to hide the real you behind obscure shades of purple and blue painted blankets torn in two. you go to a place where unused bandages remain packages in unopen boxes of stored away memories too painful to find again. so they stay there collecting dust. a part of us....inside you try to hide the real you behind those piercing eyes and hide as you try to hold your head up high. high enough to touch the sky and fly high on a clear day, red and pink stained with the passionate fury of the sun, above the burdens of existence extending into a realm of beauty ironically expressed only through the divine...heaven on a clear day. you see visions of a world so perfect, a beautiful place, and you're inclined to think you're just drunk enough to...wake up on the brink of perfection, undying...a forever with me.

neurosis

my hair has all grown out.

at first perceived, this unfortunate affair, my hair has decided to sprout. they started out small when i first cut them off, the shortest they've ever been. i thought they were happy, but then all as one, they threw a coup and came undone. with certain ease they started to spring, at first they spoke softly, almost under their breath, but then they began to come out of my head. screaming and shouting, do not cut us anymore, they said outright, don't cut us off like that because you feel bad about life. don't hurt us this way you crazy sod, we like to be out of control, a lot. so leave us alone to do what we want, what we want is some time to straighten out.

silly hair. what do you know, you are completely and totally out of control. i'll cut you whenever i feel like doing so. in fact, i'll cut you right now if i had somewhere to go.

confusion and chaos

tie me up and leave me there, in the alley of our lovestained affair, half beaten and starving with clumps of mud in my hair.
i wonder now when it will happen, a mother will retreat to the window of her kitchen only to catch her daughter being beaten down with violent words by the man who was supposed to keep her safe. on the dirt, her daughter lays there, body wrapped with scratches and nails. try to create new life now, when all you have is empty. get up little girl, and scream so that someone can find you, just long enough to repair.