Even his voice is hot

You call me friend, smile and wave hello. But as i turn you laugh again at my thinly protected back. Slipping words into their ears, lies that almost break me. You say forever like you mean it. But those shifting movements in the dark blind me like the roses thorns. I will be wary next time we meet, because this time i know.

Bent Flower Paper

Will you be the one? Eyes like glass, shining and clear. Eyes that could make a mountain bow. My head is tilting. Wild rivers dashing at the sides, begging to be calmed. And the butterflies. Familiar and haunting, making me want to rip open my heart and set them free forever. Will you change this hope, this desperation? Will you be the one to tranquillize this inner chaos. This pandora's box, residing in my chest. Those peircing movements poke fun at myself. Their words, and whispering wishes stepping into my heart and stabbing at the wounds and insecurities within. Will you be the tape that holds me togeather as i fall apart? I know its not much but i need you to be there. When i fall apart, crashing to the shore and coming up for air. Will you be there? Or will you tip-toe away, and vanish silently into the night as i wait for the love that wont come?

Gay Nazi Jews With a Bowlcut

Miles away a baby cries. Tears of hunger and pain. Dust rolls in clouds, and we lay here and pray that we dont get eclipsed by it. But what of the ones who are left without voices. Throats as dry as famine. What of them? What of the ones sitting alone, on the cold hard concrete, waiting for daylight to shine on their faces, heal their wounds. What of the ones beaten, and shrunken like socks left too long in a drier, all for what they believe...who they love. The strong and proud, slammed into submission. Struggling, toiling, in their silent cells. Who speaks for them that cant speak for themselves. Do you hear the hearts pleading? The hope that threatens to drown us as each new day dawns. Remember those who are lost in that sea. For after all, "Attention must be paid."

Lemon Poundcake

A laugh and shrug, a brush of the hand. Two hearts embeded as one. Clothes rustle past each other and gather togeather. Kids run and play, hopping past their lives with one another, into the crash of love. Glowing, radient, beaming love. The world revolves by it. Like chocolate, the cure of everything, all faiths. Faith slipping over the head, of friends. Gathered togeather and gossiping. Spilling out secret wishes and absorbing hidden truths through hushed lips. The happiness that turns the globe, uniting nations. Love.

But it doesnt smell good!

Reaching behind this veil is hard, to peel back to inner layers and the deepness inbetween. We see this transparentness yet hold up the veil just in case. To dig, go deeper, only creates mess. This dirt strewn about, puddles overflowing. Its easier to leave things unsaid, hide away this jumbled mess behind closed doors locked tight. But ignorance is not quite bliss. For the digging has to begin. This work left undone could rot away the crisp bright apple, leaving only the bruises beneath. Put on those Levis, comfy jeans. There's holes to be dug, and scenes to be played. Why leave work undone, with these halfbaked dreams.

Love-mails From Dallas Texas

Whispering hopes fly across your mind. Shallow dreams, expectations, never alligning with such harsh reality. When the illusion shatters, like glass slammed by a bat, crystilline tears trickle down your face. Spirits lifted high into the night, on the wings of that one small silver sliver of hope, to be smashed back to earth again as soon as you realize. What did you expect. Life is never as you wish. Like a genie in a bottle, wishes become distorted. "Be careful what you wish for or you just might get it". A cliche phrase spoken through poison-laced lips with a razor-edged tounge. Hope tempts, then takes, so why is it so addicting? You never know what you may get, good or evil, the choice awaits. Which do you choose?

The Starwars Leggos Are Always Best

My skin is soft, and glowing in the soft evening light. My hair shines. And i smell beautiful. But i wonder, will you notice? maybe if i come a little closer, you will realize. How i long for you to hold me. Maybe youll notice how soft my skin is. Like silk. i watch as you slide your arm around her. But all i can think of is if it were me. But then, it wouldnt be. Maybe if i change will you notice me? But i cant. So for now i will go back to bed. And wait for when you fall, and ill be there to catch you.

Dancing Men in Shiney Hats

My whole life it's been there. This imaginary concept we brainwash ourselves into believing, if only to feel less alone. Love. From a friend, from a parent, from a husband, or wife. We convince ourselves that love is pure, and wonderful, and whole. Forgiving, and perfect. Nights spent staring at a television screen, watching gushy romance scenes unfold, and wishing, longing for something so beautiful.
I remember when i was little. And everything was beautiful, the world didn't seem bad. Trusting someone seemed commonplace. And loving someone was simple. Easy. But then, i grew up. As we all do, and as the world expanded, the cracks beneath the surface, were revealed. i started to notice all the bad things in the world, all the pain, and the suffering. All the broken hearts, and untrusting people. And i grew a shell. To protect myself. I stopped believing what others said so easily, and started to watch my back every step, trying to protect my heart from more of the scratches it had already endured. And love became this beautiful fantasy. Like childrens' fairytales. Magic. Healing. The one thing that would always be perfect.
But thats not what love is. It is amazing, yes, and beautiful. But it's not pure, or whole. It requires work. And faith. But more than anything, it requires trust. And sometimes it's hard. To let in another person. But i think it's important sometimes, to love. And even though love can get you hurt, it can also make you happier than anything else in the world. So i will keep trying, even though i may still get hurt, i want to keep looking for love. True love. If only to help prove that beauty does exist in this world. Because through love i learned how to be happy. How to be myself. I learned that at the end of it all, it doesn't matter who wins or loses. All that matters is the one person who stayed, just to watch you finish.

Notes to remember

Fingers nudging keys. Begging truth to be revealed. But with nothing to give, what can i bring. My eyes are burning, tired in the night. But my mind is blank, longing to be more. For now these words, scrawled upon paper are all i have, too tired to go on. Words press into my mind, asking to be let out, but as i reach for them i find they dissapear. These half-written ideas, wishes, and dreams, pale in comparison to you.