anticipation
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I see you across the room and I have to know what your voice sounds like. I have to know what your touch feels like.
Dear Future,
As I look onto you, fear installs
It often fills my eyelids
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll fall
You’re the only one that can lift it
The empty shell I call a body
This morning I caught the blues.I stood on the edge of the spoon with nowhere to go.I tied my shoes and searched for my muse.There she sat, distance postponing an ooze of stew.With the end of the ladle short.
Optimism, not yet here
Preluding, yet it rests
Finds shelter in an anxious heart
Remaining unpossessed
Waking up is never my choice
I would prefer to stay in my dreams
Where you are with me
and not miles away
I wake to the ding of my phone
But I know it brings traces of you
Hello, how have you been?
It's been so long since we've talked.
I miss your voice, I miss your laugh.
It has slowly become a stranger to me.
But never will it disappear, it's like a tattoo.
I've gone through adequate measures to beat the monster that resides within me
This thing lay secreted beneath the surface of my skin
Readying to rupture out at any which moment
Tomorrow Tomorrow
That is when you will be all mine
When our hands fold like cards
When I feel your marrow against mine
All my life
I have been unwrapped
My ribs glossy-exposed
My lips made of glass
They have told me to learn
And I have taught myself to listen
While ignoring what is important
Alarm, beep beep beep,
Wipe grogginess away,
Wishing for more sleep,
Nervous jitters on the first day,
It's not the first time I am here,
Think of the past three years and reminsce,
Her alarm went off at six in the morning
She heard wedding bells in her sleep,
then the snooze went off-- a warning.
He turned on the coffee pot,
somewhere on the other side of town.
Life is the frail branch of an Oak
Dangling above a voracious flame
Time is its only companion
CRACK
And biggest tormenter
The occasional gentle breeze pacifies the branch's paranoia
Temporarily
Biting my lip in anticipation
Sweat forming at my temple
I don’t know if I can hold on much longer
So I let go
My feet crunch in the woodchips
I run like a cheetah
I leap and hit the swing
I hate high school so much
I can’t wait for it to conclude
While the memories to be made
In our minds we exclude
