today
as i was talking to xtechre
and listening to some music
and staring out at the blue sky and the clouds
i began to cry.
here are some poems i wrote while i was in the midst of a very deep emotional state.
one of those days to wonder, or whisper maybe
if you'll fit inbetween that hole in the cloud, or when you breathe out, those prayers know where the candle that lights the way home is
wondering when we walk past without looking at eachother, who is the ghost here? Who is the memory
and what am I?
turning to look at the blue sky, and suddenly you find yourself crying, silently
and all of that empty space is the empty space inside of you.
and all of the stars are holes in the black plastic garbage bag that's been poked with your grandmothers sewing needles
the moon is a white apple ready to give to the great teacher, A+ student.
passed away, top of your class, with honors, glass casket, don't mind it, just blast it.
slam it, chug it, fuck it!
the memory that was we is slowly leaking out of me, close and squeeze my eyes to dream, or choke and try to breathe and scream, alight, blazing and splitting at the seams, it's amazing but yet it seems
that that thread of my heartstring
is stuck in the eye of your needle
so you stuck it in mine.
"Two for one"
take it back.
i'll take it. back to where it started. take it all
give me what i can feel
knuckles white
back to concussions
and sore, soaked, straining muscles
grunts and the glare of the eye
blood dripping from your left nostril
shakey hands twisting sweat-soaked wraps
give me a pain i can hold in my hands and fight
knees and elbows exploding, fireworks, fighterworks
give me anything, give me his fist in my face again
give me blood piss and strength again
battling awake again
blood stained scrape again
teeth feet fists ache again
GIVE ALL I HAVE TO TAKE AGAIN
because in the end
i'd trade it in
i'd take it in
give back again
learn to begin
but this scar of lust
barred box of rust
now like my eyes
free from tarnished lies
with oil filled seas
and ashes for trees
with a nod, takes heed
and returns, to the dust.
They don't think it be like it is, but it do.