scribble #112: rebirth.
for awhile, i was dead to the world
and even dead to me
till you pulled me back, and my love unfurled
for the person who just allowed me to be.
scribble #17: hypodermic
you're a needle full of bliss,
but i'm out of skin to abuse.
you are my drug
that i'm simply out of reasons to use.
i laid under the moonlight
and could only dream of you
i'd stare until my heart took flight
and brought you with me too.
haven’t shaved since the breakup.
i was sitting in the corner cafe eating a too-small pastry and sipping from an overpriced latte when the muse hits like a hammer to the brain
i call it the muse but
it’s really just this intense, nagging craving for cheap gas station coffee
and jazz on the radio
while i pump out a few chapters of the book that i’ll eventually just delete later anyway
and reward my ‘productivity’ with a few shots
haven’t slept in days
but the muse doesn't care
and with the comforting feel of a glass between my fingers, eventually
neither do i.
but for you i'd spend
between the pages
you said i was unforgettable but
i've always just been a leaf
pressed between the pages of your story
and left in the dust of the shelf.
I sit down, and stare hard at that keyboard. The paper. The pens and pencils.
"You're going to write."
Stare at the lamp's bare bulb until it burns my retina. Watch the ceiling fan rotate slowly, blades swishing like lazy goldfish swimming in the same fishbowl over and over and over again. Is it me or is the room darker than it usually is?
"Put the pen to paper. Make the magic happen."
Stare outside. Not a single thing in sight, not even an occasional bird. The gray overcast sky casts a pallid color over everything, and it feels like there has never been color here.
if there is no color then why waste time mixing the ink?
your heart stopped
but this fire just isn't going out.
did you really want to
blur those lines
or did you simply
miss the signs
of a heart that was about to burst?
because you dared
when life has left you in the dust
and your friends come and go like the seasons
when everyone wonders at your “lack of trust”
and why you stay at home without giving any reasons
is it because you’ve given up?
or is it because you’re simply scared
of giving more of yourself than is needed
and paying the price because you dared