(no subject)
goosebumps cover my arm,
cardiac beats ain't too easy,
i could farm my thoughts,
i could sell them and never run out,
i could sell them over and again,
i'd rather not grow any to begin with,
i'd rather just hold you again.
pulses and sparks and beats,
tiny little jigs in my head,
so alive, so desire my death,
i can't help but hold it down,
below my lap and knees,
beneath my skin i wheeze.
i look to my cell phone,
i take up my heart drum,
for you.
i close my eyes for black,
i plug my ears to deaf,
because its not you.
i'd tap my foot and rid myself of life's unhealthy rhythms,
but i'm not sure the taps would be without rests,
long, deep, thought filled rests...
if i think hard enough i can betray the conscience,
i can see you here;
i can almost feel you near.
i confess to taking up the phone,
i confess to dialing the number,
i confess to listening again, and again, and replying to your digital,
i confess to not being able to not press nine everytime.
only so much can be done,
only so much can remain tangible and unabstract-
it doesn't take long for my mind to rise,
rip off the covers, and expose itself to the memories.
a lot can happen in a short time,
and one may not take into account all the small quirks, all the quips-
until they are overshadowed by something greater; ironically.
to whom is life well?
to which of you is it perfect?
and how many of those has it blinded?
for every day that one remains happy,
is another they don't remain not.
for every moment you spend with somebody else,
every moment away seems for not.
colours and corners,
footsteps and laughter,
shivers in cold,
shudders in warm,
smiles, frowns, tears,
they turn me backwards too often-
they take me lower; too low.
music echoes-
pages turn-
words spoke-
minds made-
but not mine.
hands linked-
eyes stare-
love sinks-
lids wink-
but not mine;
not now- god, not now.
*