speechless in the fact he could be mine
but could he be with another?
doubtless that he would be able to get with
another. if he isn’t, do i have a chance?

secure in the will of god to keep me on
the straightest path, but what if he’s on the path?

i cannot tell where you stand
or what you think of me
do you tread on dry land,
or do you go through the sea?

your signs are unreadable, your lips are
divine, perhaps a sign that
you are like a traffic light going back
to green, or to red, to tell me to slow my car

but i can’t stop, it’s on a hill
and the brake-line is cut  
and as i gaze out of my windowsill
and see a tree sprouting chestnuts

i linger in the tub
long after the heat has left
i wait until it chills my bones
shivers down my spine
i linger in the tub tonight
bubbles sparsely sit on the surface
my pain is slowly unearthing
an iceberg, deeper than expected
an iceberg, how much i’ve been neglected
an iceberg, dive into my tempest
an iceberg, the weight of deflection

Would anyone notice if my world stopped it’s rotation?
Would I change in some way? Would I need more or less consultation?
And haven’t I changed? Is there something further to fix?
And sometimes I don’t even like music.

If I raise my head high enough will it stay above water?
If I focus enough will I see clearer and farther.
And if I’m smart enough will I see all of their tricks?
What if sometimes I don’t even like music?

I have cared far too much, but don’t I now care too little?
Have I ever been firm, or always flimsy and brittle?
Now what hat can I wear? What role truly fits?
Will it matter if I don’t even like music?

Have my passions changed, or have they just disappeared?
Will I be forgiven if I’m forevermore sullen and weird?
What’s already faded and fallen can neither brighten nor stick.
And these days I don’t even like music.

But I have seen the clouds part on the darkest of days.
I have greeted the ALL with hurrahs and hurrays!
And I’ve even begun to see the beauty in it.
Still, sometimes I don’t even like music.

*** laude
but still survive by making lattes
oat, soy, or is 2% okay?
my tongue strains from over complicated names
i’d rather be where the trees meet the beach
i’d rather see where the ocean meets me
i’d rather be in the in between
i’d rather be surfing in tropic scenes
but i am clocked in
dialled in to deliver the best service
i am locked in
dialled in to automate, surrendering purpose
shocking the lack of stopping
the earth keeps earthing

i sit by the window watching the sun
go down into the horizon, tasting his tongue
on my breath, sweet and sickening like
fruit pastilles or a persimmon, homelike

it reminds me of my future with him
it reminds me of my past without him
all those years wasted not knowing
my love would meet me in that

dead end old school, where hate is bred
and stupidity is taught in what students read
they don’t know anything about life
about love, religion, repentance, longing

for his eyes, his speckled face glistening
in the late-afternoon sunlight listening
to my ramblings about this or that
sometimes his finger pit-pats

on the desk where i first found myself
a sea of endless pain and anguish rescued
by my foolish love, another pointless beckoning
quenched by lack of reckoning

i sit by my window
waiting for him

Every night I fall asleep to the rhythm of your heartbeat and the gentle kisses you so generously offer. Every morning I wake up to your stupid, soothing alarm and attempt to listlessly ****** you from your tasks.

    You are safe and strong and like no one I’ve ever known. A calm, kind, neutral party whom I fear I may corrupt.
For there is unimaginable darkness within this heart of mine. And while you might be a pleasant distraction from the pain, your love alone cannot illuminate the murkiest parts of me.

    The love I feel for you is comfortable. Like a soft blanket and a warm cup of tea. There is no passion, no desperation, no ferocity to this affection - but it is strong nonetheless.

    You and I will never move mountains; so move your lips against mine.

    We will never discover the secrets of love; so tell me all of yours.