November 14, 2010
You are the most
Person I know.
July 23, 2010
Take a swig
Pop a pill
Sleep for 3 hours
Sleep for 2 hours
July 8, 2010
People can make fun of me.
You can threaten me, mock me, tear me to pieces.
I can handle it, but someday, someone will take your bullshit to heart.
You could hurt someone.
July 5, 2010
My grandma takes a bath every night before bed.
Walking down the hallway tonight, I smelled scented candles.
She hasn’t burnt them since grandpa died.
June 23, 2010
Stopped my thinking,
Quit my dreaming.
This is realism
without the fear.
June 14, 2010
Sleep comes in waves, breaking the night into modest pieces.
These pieces are filled with the drone of late night cartoons and the flash of your television.
Blankets entangle our legs making the bed a sea of soft warmth.
A rush of air, your yawn, brushes my neck accompanied with a whisper.
“Sweet dreams.” you murmur, sliding down onto my pillow.
“You too.” I sigh, gazing intently at the television.
Eventually sleep crashes into me, coaxing my head to lie next to yours.
In and out of consciousness we drift, tossing and turning.
I wake to your touch, an arm reaching for me.
Unaware, you pull me close into a soft embrace.
Acceding to your form I relax in your amiable arms.
“I love you.” I mutter, allowing the night to pull me away with you.
June 7, 2010
The microwave door clicks open revealing a steaming cup of tea.
I carefully grasp the handle and carry it across the room.
My body relaxing into the couch, I taste the sugar left on my lips.
Accompanied with a sigh, I stretch my arm to the floor.
After searching, my fingers wrap around the smooth container.
The pills shake in their half empty bottle.
One, two, three fall out of the orange bottle into the palm of my hand.
Sitting on my dry tongue, the powder starts to dissolve, a bitter taste lingering.
A swig of tea rinses away the lump, slipping down my throat.
My eyes shut and my head rests back on the forgiving, cool leather.
The bottle falls to the ground, rattling, retreating back under the couch.
Eventually the sleep takes over, my eyelids becoming heavier.
Trudging to my bed, I chug the rest of my tea, dropping the cup in the middle of the room.
A yawn escapes my mouth, a final sound before I drift off to sleep.
The night goes by, as does the next day, starting this cycle over again.
June 7, 2010
You don’t know
The world around you,
You’ll learn it all,
The heavy burdons
And weightless gifts.
Your curious eyes
overlook the invisible,
Growing old hurts,
Please stay young.
One day you’ll see
The world you live on
Forgiving to none.
For now you sing,
Filling silence with laughter,
See love in life,
And live contently.
Oh small child,
As days pass
You will want them back.
Fall asleep worry-less,
Troubles out of mind.
Sleep will come easy,
But only for now.
Hold your moments close
And save them for later.
One day you’ll see
The precious life you had
And reach for the memories
Of that small child,
That lucky girl.
May 19, 2010
So much is forged on the exterior,
I become something I’m not.
The fragile interior shatters,
My precious work is lost.
May 12, 2010
Your idle chatter only touches the surface
Of a tension strung between us.
My repose aura begs to crack
The formal filter you tend to display.
My lack of facade reveals my insight
Of a great being captured in an endless cycle.
Our previously exchanged words
Rest on the surface of my thoughts.
You bury these words beneath you
Unwilling to resurrect them.
You elude my outspoken gaze
Until I turn and finally catch your eye.
For a moment to long you sit
The surface broken by the mutual awareness.