Sunday, October 21, 2012

"what happens to a dream deferred"

.last night, my dream escaped and flew to you. or maybe it wasn't a dream. just a stray thought, or a compact combination of all my thoughts, manifested in your dream. a ton of dead emoticons. and me saying 'i can't take it anymore'.

.something that won't disappoint.

.i am laughing bitterly at you in my head

sick of being stuck in the middle, you said
sick of playing hangman when you want to paint the moon
maybe you can't see yourself the way that i do
but wait, now i can't see you at all

my angel of doom, you always said you'd bring me down

and i laughed cheerfully instead
i am the living ghost of a goddess you dreamt up in my image, so very long ago
and even she had flaws

i will never be what you want me to be
i can never be what i want me to be
at least you have other options

but i am tired of hating myself each day i'm not her
i am tired of the lies i borrow from your lips, just to put that smile together
i am tired of the hope you plant in my soul so i can face another day, for another moment playing hangman with you
only to remember
you could be painting the moon with someone else.

Monday, February 27, 2012

.orion times three.

 .dreams cut loose may be hazardous to homework.

.can you see my mirror in your mirror?
eight lines separate the world.
kaleidoscope shards make a wormhole for hearts that know no better than to tumble into and out of place, thrown from souls into space, with no purpose but shapes to be changed forever.
.can your burn my flame in your fire?
nothing's ever complete when you desire. perspective is caught in the wink of an eye, from amongst sparks rising from the pyre, creating patterns, leaping higher and higher, with no purpose but to be entire in a never-ending sky.
wink of an eye, and then it is lost.
.can you be a map and not a maze?
this is but just another phase, with no purpose but to disengage the staticity if the earth stops moving. but what if the earth stood still and the lines curled round? and a little boy's xylophone was the only sound, all dreams would learn to stand their ground, and fling away the barriers. eight lines tumbling into and out of place until they're maps, and not a maze, and they throw back the shards till they're spinning inwards again, and they slow down, and tilt back once, twice...and tip over into the other side.

Sunday, January 22, 2012


.she stays.

.the sky is burning
i can hardly wait to see what it's been hiding
let the fire engines race to it, they won't make it
let the stars fall onto my arms
as the flames release them from the web above
and as they land
they will sink in and show me who i am
and where i belong
they are lined up on the shelf
now hold me tight
and let them lead the way
i watch them play on your palms
and i know
we're not going anywhere
we've lived our lives around this moment
i've just been acting stupid
now i know
and i need something to keep my hold on reality
the sky is calling
it can hardly wait to see what i've been hiding.