DustYou could say I’mas little as the stardust that floats in the sun’s glow(through sheer curtains)when you’ve got nowhere else to look.And they’d call itblush pink but I wish I was astall as my scarlet heart.I could see hair lines with droopy lids instead ofstraining my neck withdoe eyes.Remember the time words bruised my cheeks?And before the sob could evenburst from the dry back of my throat andbefore the tears evenleft my ductsYou hooked me with able arms andI was not forlorn. You hadthe stardustbetween sun streaks and I wish Iwas again buried between the braided threadsof your blue shirt with closed eyesand fingers in my hair.
RideInfinite. That’s not a feeling. You can’t feel infinite.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -My heart had never been so high. It must’ve flown from the tip of my tongue when we sang together and landed somewhere in the volatile sky. I thought I saw it with wings but it could’ve been some exhausted illusion like when you see colored spots in your vision that float around and begin again when you blink.I want to remember that drive more than I'm able to. All that I'm certain of now is that I didn’t have to be in your arms to feel your warmth in the passenger seat; I felt your love in the scent of your breath when it circulated the car, when it swirled in my head. I had never known you better than I did when morning caught in my throat and a melody emerged; and when you sang too it was a growing conversation. For someone so much louder than I, I never would've known you were so poetically pensive.I was chilled with the air of winter right outside the windows
MarrowI caught my reflection by hersilk spun lips; She wasas beautiful as the slendermoon. She doesn't sayhello too often but thistime she lingered quite a bit longerthan usual - so it sounded by theticks on the old grandfatherclock down the hall.What a delicate heart she holds.How heavy it must be to carry - Icould see the weight in herrain cloud eyes. She has never lookedso sweet, to me, even with thosehollow bruises underneath. Terseor not, I found my marrow. And whileI could not keep hold for long; it wassomething that had been lost for sucha long time. It is still there, I see -I have seen. Howhastily I fell for her disastrous nature.She's so afraid, you can tell, but herbaby cheeks hide these dimples thathold every ounce of her innocence.So swollen and youthful, I dare nottouch the dream that is her velvetskin, for I may break the mostfragile thing to ever bekissed by the northern lights.
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.