six simple days of serenity, and in a flash
perfect visions of days that could lay ahead
of more elevator joy rides than either of us could stand/enjoy
hot nights in busy cities, tossing and turning
(forgetting the heat and the sounds in the streets).
but who needs electric, LED-Lighted, luminary, numinous
visions psychadelic in their beautifully innocent splendour?
progressive paradigms shifting like the pavement in front of the hotel
after hours of sweating, spinning, butterflywingswhirlingwildly inside
new feelings in an old body dismissed/disused
now, after these six simply serendipidous days
i am left hungry without any desire to eat
the butterflies slowly fading away
their flashing light wings crumbling into week-old,
forgotten confetti.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
but now i wish to see and share some light- i believe the end, my love, is fin'ly nigh.
you led, then left, me down a darkened path
by which i'm finding difficulty coming back.
you were always the better writer,
and certainly between us more the fighter-
and the more blind i was to the ways of your wrath
your grasp on me only grew tighter.
i defended you defiantly
cared for you maniacally
yet in the end, you did your best
to ruin a chance I had at happiness.
you sucked me in with pitiful pedantic pleas for pardon
every time you fucked up -
so now that rusted hinge has hardened so
that I must simply leave this CellarDoor shut.
i've tired of the mindgames, helping you up
because you don't want to tie your shoes.
and don't you think, too, now, that it's high time
i've taken up a different muse?
Could it ever have occurred to you
that perhaps i'm done with seeing blue?
that i'm looking forward to another hue, void of you,
after all the bullshit that you've spewed?
What was i thinking? Feeling responsible for your worry
for your pain, the detriment i caused you, the guilt you never paused to hurry?
Now it's so plain to me-
your thoroughly ruminated ruse
to give me the sweetest gift: a key-
whose power over me you'd just abuse.
Well, your crooked arrow's aim was true,
you locked me down in Hell with you.
I'm ashamed it's taken me so long to see
that you don't WANT to be set free-
you would never come back up with me,
and your cherished memory is but an apostrophe
of something and someone i truly hope i used to be.
i think i can say now, safely, that enough is enough-
and before you can spill anymore,
i've got to try to start cleaning up
all the blood that you've left on my floor.
by which i'm finding difficulty coming back.
you were always the better writer,
and certainly between us more the fighter-
and the more blind i was to the ways of your wrath
your grasp on me only grew tighter.
i defended you defiantly
cared for you maniacally
yet in the end, you did your best
to ruin a chance I had at happiness.
you sucked me in with pitiful pedantic pleas for pardon
every time you fucked up -
so now that rusted hinge has hardened so
that I must simply leave this CellarDoor shut.
i've tired of the mindgames, helping you up
because you don't want to tie your shoes.
and don't you think, too, now, that it's high time
i've taken up a different muse?
Could it ever have occurred to you
that perhaps i'm done with seeing blue?
that i'm looking forward to another hue, void of you,
after all the bullshit that you've spewed?
What was i thinking? Feeling responsible for your worry
for your pain, the detriment i caused you, the guilt you never paused to hurry?
Now it's so plain to me-
your thoroughly ruminated ruse
to give me the sweetest gift: a key-
whose power over me you'd just abuse.
Well, your crooked arrow's aim was true,
you locked me down in Hell with you.
I'm ashamed it's taken me so long to see
that you don't WANT to be set free-
you would never come back up with me,
and your cherished memory is but an apostrophe
of something and someone i truly hope i used to be.
i think i can say now, safely, that enough is enough-
and before you can spill anymore,
i've got to try to start cleaning up
all the blood that you've left on my floor.
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