GossipHer diamond eyes wouldburn a hole in -That's what they said -They whispered it likeI was a throw pillow.Well, they may havebruised me (Iam made ofpaper) But I leftmyself with the otherspeckles of dust on theirmantle.I will be rememberednow; they have to live withmy -I remain on their fireplace stillto this day. And my ghostwill mark them always -I must be worth more thanthe stain of wine that spilledthere on the carpetonce andknocked over youryellow lampshade.
Lost ThingsWith truth to the letter yourvoice has become actualmusic to my ears. That's allI've been looking forwardto lately. You know I wish thatthere was something neweraround. Maybe somefresh snow on the ground orsomething as sincerely brightand soft with innocenceto avert my mind from this blackhole that's opened up in thehome we made here. I don'tcare how many days Ihaven't marked onthe calendar; I've lost whatI was looking for like therewas a hole in my pocket.I can't find it anymore. Andthat fear will freeze me to myshaking core. It doesn't matterhow many timesyou say it's right there. You arenot right there. You are not.It is not the same and nothingyou say from this day willfortify a lesser sense ofabsence. You are not whereyou once were andI miss you.
WrongI don't have any doubt you knew,somewhere in the back of your mind,that I'd write for you anyway.You knew I'd write youwith left or with right.For day or for night.I'd write you somethingfor every minute you existed.I'd write you a sonnet for your breathand a novel for those hairsthatstick up in the morning.I'd write with a pen, ora feather, or a rock.I'd jumble words togetherjust to show youthat every warm complimentbelongs to you.I'd do it over if you asked me to,I'd do it if you broke my heart.And I'm not ignorant enough tosay"maybe,"I know, I am adespicable human being.I didn't do what was rightand I felt no shamepleading for your forgiveness on myhandsand knees.I didn't deserve to be written back,that's what you said.And I guess you're right in punishingmethat way butI thought you'd write for me anyway.
SixIt occurred to meright thenhowdeliciously fragile you areI wanted to climb downthe words in yourthroat, and cooyour heart.You’ve seen thestars in my eyesto compliment themoon in yours.And how we light upin infatuation, ourromance isthe glow of fire light.I’m so inlove with your way, I realized,when I tore away the woolthat occluded me from you.You’ve got a beaminghalo and thissmile that loves me inall its radiance.I keep you for myself,little pieces of you haveinevitably becomea part of me.I don’t mind if youdon’t mind.I keep your voice tuckedbehind my ear.And your eyes inthe back of mymind; you know they’realways overflowing.I keep my home inyour arms andmy heart in the trusty gripof your fingerprints.My laugh is in yoursensitive sidesand at the end of yourtoes.I have your breath onmy collarbone, and yourtouch on my cheeks andyour lips on my neck.See, I love youdevotedly. And a bunch ofother adjectiv