Tag Archives: picture

a picture of patience

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half-remembered

plastic wiles

you’ve got that

kinda poppy smile

spring fills envy

and i’m steady

though my mind’s

about to break

if i’m sorry

you’re not ready

i’ll still own up

to my mistakes

when you find out

what it means

the oceans stain

with solitary pink

i’ll keep my secrets

right beside you

hope you sleep

before you blink

but it’s early

oh, far too early

and maybe i’ll be glad

for this may be an

augean journey

but you shall be my iliad.

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shut up when you’re talking to me

We keep the beat with your blistered feet
And we bullet the words at the mockingbirds singing
Slept through the weekend and dreaming
Of sinking with the melody of the cliffs of eternity
Got postcards from my former selves saying “How’ve you been?”

~*~

those clever words

are only things

you said in your sleep…

but i still listened,

and i still believed in them.

i’ll wear my heart on

my sleeve just so i could

wear something new

i’ll wear my brain over my shirt

just so i could pretend that

it’s something true—

but feeling and thinking

is already out of style

so guess my fashion statement

is faded, bleached out in

the bad kind of vintage

so won’t you give me

a cheap trick and tell me

“don’t be cruel, honey”

like the parasite that ravaged

our lips turning to scarlet

but i couldn’t find the letter

or monarch butterflies

in our holiday down in las vegas

when we lost the highway

for the third time that evening.

it’s a picture perfect eternity

the goodbye that never leaves

it’s the most insincere you and me

the “happy birthday” that doesn’t age

have i blown your mind yet?

or were you distracted by misery?

there’s no take two’s, i’m afraid

but encore’s full of apologies

so just talk, like it’s all we can do

talk because it’s all we can do

and listen to the insomnia

lash out in crashing profanities

if you’re too afraid to stay

‘cause these doldrums won’t play out

forever…would they?

~*~

Whoa oh, we’re so miserable and stunning
Whoa oh, love songs for the genuinely cunning
It was ice cream headaches and sweet avalanche
When the pearls in our shells got up to dance
You call me a bad tipper of the cradle
Tired yawns for fawns on hunter’s lawns…

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Aka no Sakura

It starts inside my head, let it course into my bones
I breathe recycled air just to feel like I’m not alone
So does it kill you now? Call it insincere
You took the worst way out and I’m still here…

~*~

A suicide note written in cherry-cola shade lipstick

Disconnected telephone still ringing in the backdoor

Sore bones cracking under the weight of the bed frame

An empty prescription bottle gathering flies on the floor

Faded picture frame with red-eyes and faces scratched out

Tawny overcoat hung down the tattered couch one last time

Blanched body on black tiles, twisted in grotesque abstraction

Is it too late to apologise for never surviving but always dying?

~*~

It’s too late, it’s too late
The ground’s breaking under me
I can’t breathe, I’m underneath
So go ahead and wish me hell ’cause
You’re the one who dragged me there, yeah
It’s too late to save today…

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Wrong Exposure

I woke up with a jolt, and you were still there

Grinning bedazzlingly at me with a hopeful stare

I tried to smile back, but instead wept in shame

Because you were only a face stuck behind a picture frame.

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