Chinese throwing stars in my eyes
So I've been staying up at night, not sleeping but writing and I am so proud of this new poem, I love it so much I decided to share it. So you can like it or not I could care less, it's all subjective, but the point is it's me and I'm sharing it.
Didgeridoo
As restless eyelids are my slide-show screens my mind replays that night. My honesty spilled over your ears like waves on the pier where we sat and buried our insecurities and toes in the cold sand. Everyone was watching that random couple have sex on the beach, right next to us right there, but really they were listening to see if we would give ourselves away, our intentions that is. A seductive look, a familiar position, read between the lines of the “there ok”. The sky melted into the lake that night as you tried to point out the horizon to me, leaning near enough to me for me to know, it wasn’t really the horizon you were trying to point out, you weren’t trying to show the separation at all, but rather the closeness of both the horizon and us. And I tried to convince myself it was my eyes you were looking at when you told me we should get going. So into your gingerbread car we went, not really wanting to go but glad we no longer had company. And so on that Lost in Space Odyssey adventure back to finding my house I let you know my intentions and impressions of you shouldn’t have to hold back and I don’t want you to. Butterflies and lawn gnomes are passive, so you shouldn’t have to be. I am here to explore and to be explored not by the person you portray but the person I know you have hidden inside you have no reason to be afraid. I mean come on, the park, middle of the day-what more can I say? You shouldn’t have to hold back to my house we went with a pit stop to review the lessons you were unsure on. The grass was wet so we sat on the concrete, which was as comfortable as the silence was broken by my voice once again. And with my hair pulled back like curtains on a stage I was ready to perform. So as gently as I knew how I lead you into my world and you came, in silence. But you weren’t always silent not when it came to deep lyrics and intense plots or rambling about Power Rangers but I didn’t mind because at least you were talking. I always replayed our conversations while I was laying in my bed starring up at the stucco ceiling trying to find shapes like in those puffy clouds that were above the hammock. And I thought you would call at any second-calling to say that you saw through my bullshit, how my confidence was a cover for a insecure lover. So at night I’d leave my cell phone on just hoping you would call cause even if you were angry at least you were talking. Then other nights I wanted nothing more than to sink into the melodies of my very own velvet underground and ignore the jabber of the TV and not wanting to hear the ring tone or your tone of disappointment, when you realized I was just a thief of time, that you had confused paradise for a pair of nice legs. So with Sylvia Plath as my character piece, I wrote this poem hoping it would be the first of many green lights and if you do happen to get caught at a red one, well maybe I’ll get a button or maybe you’ll make me a mix tape with more than one bad song or maybe well make each other’s mouth’s silent or maybe just maybe you’ll be comfortable.
FUCK YEA IT MAKES ME FEEL SEXY
Didgeridoo
As restless eyelids are my slide-show screens my mind replays that night. My honesty spilled over your ears like waves on the pier where we sat and buried our insecurities and toes in the cold sand. Everyone was watching that random couple have sex on the beach, right next to us right there, but really they were listening to see if we would give ourselves away, our intentions that is. A seductive look, a familiar position, read between the lines of the “there ok”. The sky melted into the lake that night as you tried to point out the horizon to me, leaning near enough to me for me to know, it wasn’t really the horizon you were trying to point out, you weren’t trying to show the separation at all, but rather the closeness of both the horizon and us. And I tried to convince myself it was my eyes you were looking at when you told me we should get going. So into your gingerbread car we went, not really wanting to go but glad we no longer had company. And so on that Lost in Space Odyssey adventure back to finding my house I let you know my intentions and impressions of you shouldn’t have to hold back and I don’t want you to. Butterflies and lawn gnomes are passive, so you shouldn’t have to be. I am here to explore and to be explored not by the person you portray but the person I know you have hidden inside you have no reason to be afraid. I mean come on, the park, middle of the day-what more can I say? You shouldn’t have to hold back to my house we went with a pit stop to review the lessons you were unsure on. The grass was wet so we sat on the concrete, which was as comfortable as the silence was broken by my voice once again. And with my hair pulled back like curtains on a stage I was ready to perform. So as gently as I knew how I lead you into my world and you came, in silence. But you weren’t always silent not when it came to deep lyrics and intense plots or rambling about Power Rangers but I didn’t mind because at least you were talking. I always replayed our conversations while I was laying in my bed starring up at the stucco ceiling trying to find shapes like in those puffy clouds that were above the hammock. And I thought you would call at any second-calling to say that you saw through my bullshit, how my confidence was a cover for a insecure lover. So at night I’d leave my cell phone on just hoping you would call cause even if you were angry at least you were talking. Then other nights I wanted nothing more than to sink into the melodies of my very own velvet underground and ignore the jabber of the TV and not wanting to hear the ring tone or your tone of disappointment, when you realized I was just a thief of time, that you had confused paradise for a pair of nice legs. So with Sylvia Plath as my character piece, I wrote this poem hoping it would be the first of many green lights and if you do happen to get caught at a red one, well maybe I’ll get a button or maybe you’ll make me a mix tape with more than one bad song or maybe well make each other’s mouth’s silent or maybe just maybe you’ll be comfortable.
FUCK YEA IT MAKES ME FEEL SEXY