Friday, November 12, 2010

Track 2

I'm falling in love with how he speaks to me through music that he plays for me
Intentions amplified with the meaning in the lyrics and the melody
We're silent and I'm driving; these songs are getting at the best of me
Takes my hand to his lips and lets a kiss get at the rest of me
This is his personal contradiction to the way he lives his life:
Flagrantly single; he should be beckoning the anti-wife
But I'm anti-trife, so I'm letting it flow;
The shit he did last week to piss me off, I'm letting it go
He changes the song but keeps the mood steady and controlled
Now I hear the words in his heart that he keeps untold
I slow down and turn to him to let him know I'm listening
He knods his head in silence as the song is finishing.
His eyes (unlike his words) never lie or make promises he can't maintain
But they tell me at this moment I'm the reason he's sane
A little tipsy, I'm tempted to say something kinda crazy
But I know it's just the situation making me hazy
So I refrain, the song changes, he continues the theme of love
Still I know it's just a theory and not the theme of us
He thinks I'm in it for the sex,
I think he's in it 'til the next
So we're cautious to avoid having to live with regrets -
He kisses my hand again, I guess he felt me moving away
Which is funny because I really only wanted to stay
This time he lets his lips linger just above my skin
Between the music and his energy I want to give in
I want to give all
I want to be able to fall
If I need anything I want it to be him that I call

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Hard For Me To Write These Words

I write what I'm feeling and what I'm living
What I'm needing and what I'm missing
I write the words you somehow couldn't say
Or at the very least you couldn't figure out a way
So I take the emotions you feel and give them a voice
I do it like I never really had a choice...

Still, it's hard to write these words...
Afraid that some of you might figure out the nouns and connect them to the verbs...
Connect the voice to the source of my laughter
Connect the face with my prose about the mornings after
My presumed sexuality on display for your voyeuristic needs
Your assumptions blur my fictions with my realities

I shouldn't really care.
Doing this makes me feel like I exist here.
Like the part of me that's dormant during my 9 to 5
Finally gets to prove that it too is alive
That my life isn't a monotonous transition from home to work to play
That my world is made up of more than the hours in this day
I exist beyond the physical matter and the parts of me you see
I am a part of some vision you have yet to dream,
Or I'm a part of some past experience you've remembered to forget
Then my words give that feeling new life and you forget to regret
Because you know somewhere someone is sharing that load
How can I connect with a memory you know is yours alone?
That's what these words are to me
A way to express empathy

I write what I'm dreaming of and hoping for
I write when I've given too much or when I'm owing more
I write when I'm lacking and feeling nothing at all
I write when I'm angry because he forgot to call...
I write about his kisses making me weak
I write about him sexing me until I forget how to speak
I write about the confusion of love and the need for lust
I write about the want for security when there's a lack of trust

But I hope I'm writing your thoughts when you're searching for closure
I hope they reach you when you're on earth but Hell seems closer
I hope they make you realize your unique pain is actually pretty plain
And that trying to be normal is actually pretty fucking insane.

I'll take the storms along with the sun to gain appreciation for both
Knowing the extremes is what keeps giving this poetry growth
And maybe that's a metaphor for the things I've put my heart through and the reasons why
But at least it's just as easy for me to smile as it is for me to cry

That may be a lie...

But...I'm working on it through words
Figuring out the nouns and connecting them with verbs
So as I glide my fingers easily over these keys;
And as your eyes greedily devour what I feed
We're both connected in this moment through a trail of my needs and wants
To me that's worth the nakedness I feel when you're consuming my thoughts

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