Family Isn’t Blood
When you said,
Family isn't blood,
It's who you choose to let in,
I was in the back seat of your car
When you had never been the one to pick me up.
Tears streaked down my face,
And I had just asked why the devil and I couldn't get along.
I hadn't called you,
I had called my Angel,
But there you were.
She must have heard the panic in my voice,
and called you in her own panic.
You dropped everything to pick me up,
even though it was before your waking hours.
I should have known you loved me then,
For a man so unyeilding to upend everything.
But there was always that doubt,
That poison that stops me from saying those words even now.
So when I saw you for the last time
And you also said the words "I love you,"
I should have let you in.
what if i’m good and nobody cares?
what if i’m talented but end up being nothing?
if i ask the world a question
will she even bother to answer?
if i have talent and spend my credit
banking on a future that’s already bankrupt
where the fuck then will i be?
do i only have disappointment ahead of me?
death seems like the greatest adventure and
the place where dreams go to end.
if i greet death like an old friend
will he let me live long enough to love who i am
even if i finish the race with
nothing in my hands?
nonsense
Two friends sitting outside a cafe.
"What do you call a witch's garage?" Said one friend with a grin.
The other rolled their eyes, chin dropping into their palm tiredly. "Dude it's July it's not even Halloween yet -"
"Humor me. C'mon."
They groaned, their tone dry as a desert. "Alright, I have no idea. What would I call a witch's garage."
The coffee shook in the other' hands as they held down laughter, face turning pink. They choked out, "A broom closet."
Dead eyes swiveled to the busy street, the cackles rising beside them and into the sky.
First Cigarette
Ooh tricky question. First date and you are going straight for the big questions. I like it, and I like you for asking it. Can we skip me and talk more about you? No? Okay, desire. Desire. What kind of desire are we talking? Like life long dream or like love life stuff? I did just become a lot more interested in sex very suddenly, but I guess I don't really feel like going into that before the drinks get here. I also became much busier. I am always doing something or having to schedule something else all the while coordinating with other people to get them to do something... Come to think of it, it kind of makes sense that I'd look for an outlet.
I want that.
I want to do something irresponsible for the hell of it! Develop an unhealthy habit. Like smoking! I've never smoked once in my life, but these days I keep catching myself thinking, 'God! I wish I had a cigarette!' Weird huh? And you know what else? I want to date the bad boy -- that's where you come in. I want to stand up in the middle of my work and run down the street just to feel the wind in my hair, or get in my car and drive until everything familiar dissapears; I want to fall of the face of the planet. I desire an escape from myself.
What about you?
#DoIt
A Poem for a Strawberry Blond
If I could do it all over again,
I still wouldn’t reveal the truth to you.
You’ll never know how my heart aches in pain.
You’re not at fault for what I’m going through.
Thank you for being so very lovely.
Your light caused me to love the world itself.
I promise, I’ll be no longer lonely,
I can love myself, heart’s sorrows now shelved.
Knowing that you’ll always love her more than me,
I am accepting my own agony.
I may never be your priority,
but I’m alright with that reality.
Logic and reason, please erase my feelings!
You calling my name still leaves me dreaming.
Inspired by "Strawberry Blond" by Mitski
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g685pAuKW34)
A Sonnet for Homework
I forgot about homework, yes truly
Then remembered, but forgot once again
I’m surprised how poor mem’ry, it threw me
To a panic, yet I managed to pen
One quatrain while I sang in the shower
A few more lines while I combed through my hair
A couplet while crying in rush hour
And some more rhymes that I plucked from thin air
Should my sonnet be filled with delusions
Or brimming over with loves sad and true
I’m not sure, but I’ll tie up the loose ends
I mean, it’s just homework I’ve got to do
Hey, look, everyone! Ten beats ’til we’re done!
Ten, nine, eight, seven, five, four, three, two, one