a man walks by
suit flared at the waist
with heels clicking
and watch ticking louder
than mine
he walks on high
short hair pasted to head
I know he has a brain
made of plan
and though he won’t admit it yet
loves another man
he passed me by
he passed me by
Copyright L.M. 2008. (written May 26th, 2008.).
my hands are dry and rough from working
my eyes are small and used to squinting
my stature average, verging on petite
I have thin skin and veiny feet
my complexion’s poor, my tone is pale
genes say my bones will be quite frail
I have no nails as they are weak
my voice is too high when I speak
my mother thinks my hair’s too long
I think all compliments are wrong
I’m a sceptic, sometimes too much so
though I try to be fair to friend and foe
my opinions strong, my manner shy
in public you’ll never see me cry
in private I keep emotions tame
my anxiety has that cause to blame
I hate to shop, but buy a lot
no place could ever be too hot
I dislike snow, I dislike cold
I’m terrified of getting old
I have good friends who understand
I’m always later than I plan
I’m sensitive, and feel more pain
than I let off, or care to explain
I never intentionally drink alcohol
and for this, flunk social protocol
I dislike freckles, and have a bunch
I bend, I slouch, I slump, I hunch
I get depressed but never treat
I just stay up late and never eat
somehow, I’ve seemed to manage this wreck
to keep my addictive tendency in check
though these faults I easily admit
I’d like to think there’s some good to it
I’ll never regret the time departed
for when I love, I love whole-hearted
Copyright L.M. 2008.
I took solace in the tears the moon gave me
pretending they were for you
it was full tonight and I passed the site
the cruel arena
I couldn’t find a plan so I kept going
and wouldn’t you know? I slept
while my tears dried on my cheeks
while I stood there staring at the moon
yes, I slept,
everything reduced to numbness
all the passion and anger
slept tonight in my pain
reciting my own words and those of ____
just so I can swallow some air
I’ve been breathing dirt for days now
I can’t feel anymore but that’s okay
it’s better than feeling awake
would you settle near me and watch me
so when I choke there’s a reason
since the scene never plays itself out
if it makes any sense at all
may I be removed? I thought I saw a star
I’m sure I did in my eyes
and the long clouds dripping dip through the moon
I watch behind the dead tree
magnificent as the Seven’s and just as achingly cursed
spelling my letters as I read them
I couldn’t find the keys in the scramble
the door was wide open and I walked into it
beginning with my mind
and ending with my feet
I can’t cry for you
I used to be much better
can’t slow my eyes getting wetter
so let me cry for the moon
Finished: 6:20 a.m., Sunday, November 25th, 2007.
Copyright L.M. 2007.
it has a plan
constructed elsewhere
I’m its guardian
watch as I slide
that slippery washboard
bringing the tide around
it can happen like that
so let the notebooks fly
they soar better anyhow
let them see the wind
from whence they came
dying a death onto paper
and living so long
to come around
and be made angels
they’ll thank us
all your inspirations
and mine
Copyright L.M. 2007.
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