Sink Or Swim

Hand touching hand.

Eye meeting eye.

Skin touching skin.

Heart melting into heart.

Two becoming one.

You and I sewn in frabric of time.

Words becoming murmurers of things we know are true.

Sayings like "I love you".

Hand touching hand.

Fingers feeling in treads of hair.

Skin touching skin.

We dive into pools of each others eyes.

Sink or swim into our skins.

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Sinking in love and in sorrow

There is me. Curled up in a ball and, Morrissey moans. I yearn for far away lovers touch while the only touch I can have is the cold hands of time reminding me every second of every hour that I am alone and that the one I need is gone. How Could Anyone Know How I Possibly Feel? Indeed, Morrissey. Indeed. Just. Shut up. I don't need you to bitch to me your woes. I do not need this. The Cure seem to sit this drama of a "just a phase" depression. The Figure Head. Something to sew together the shattered glass of the turth that I am sinking with my fanasty of being rescued; dreaming the thoughts only a little girl could dream again. A knight on a shining horse... only to see that the armor is tarished and the horse is made of sand. Not to say that this is me. No. I see no more knights or of the possibility of being rescused. I simply will have to make my own escape to get to him. The journey will be long and hard but worth it in the end I know. He knows. We both accept this. That I am blissful in, but now, this moment, I am not. My head burns with clouded thoughts of falling of the edge of the earth forever. Death. "It's just a phase. It's your choice to feel the way you do." I have been given this all before. Can't it be understood that this is something that I would like help on? Give me drugs for all I care just make my passion for the kiss of death go away! You can't see me now, for I have blended into the shadows once again. And I am slipping down the cool tile floor of this shower in vain for no one can see me. How I twist my body in want, almost begging, but no. I am not that low. These acts are not for everyone; just a someone. I am sinking in love and in sorrow. The love is something I do not mind, for it's something I've always wanted to feel. In this darkness, it makes me smile and feel warm. And to know I will feel the rush of it soon again makes me warmer still. But yet, my feet are cold and my head is clouded. Because it's "just a phase". A long phase then. "What's wrong with you?" If I knew I would tell you! I wake up feeling empty and gray. There is no reason why it just exsist but YOU certainly are not helping me swim. Nay, you're helping me drown, for lack of a better word. No. I won't kill myself for I have a few things to live for tonight and tomorrow and the tomorrows after that. I will feel whole soon as are figures are intwined and we can lay in almost no sounds, save, for a record to fit the mood. To fit the love that almost makes us burst into stars and dust. In that I am whole. In my books and music and pens and papers and inks I am whole. In this hotel room? I am not. I am broken. Robert Smith understands, or the lyrics do. So this is the night. Drowning in thoughts of love and the touch of sorrow.

Human Life.

This human life is all we know.

This path; our only road.

Starting lines to finish lines.

Day to night.

We are real.

Eyes, flesh and cuts to make then heal.

Love is real, not made of steel.

Fire Flies Stars And You

If fire flies could melt into stars they wouldn't shine as bright as you.

If the sweetest song could be heard it wouldn't be a tender of harmony as your voice.

You are not merely flesh and bone.

You are something more.

Though you fumble and fall it only adds to you, as a whole, as one thing.

And yes, you bleed and cry and sigh to the moon in love or frustration.

But like I said before, you are different.

You are special.

If fire flies could melt into stars they would not shine as bright as you.

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Getting The Twitch

Sometimes I can't stop shaking.

Sometimes I can't stop a wiggling and giggling and squiggling.

Standing up to snap my fingers.

Standing up to snap my toes.

Getting the twitch, getting the twitch, getting the twitch.

Just for kicks.

It's not as easy as you... think.

Sometimes its in your brain or in your feet.

And its harder than you think.

It's hard to get the twitch.

Beautifully Ringing

Please stop making me twist and turn in fits of soft laugher and a red and growing redder face. Stop making me think you'll knock on the door so I can run as fast as I can to get to you. You do this to all the girls don't you? I'm still twisting and turning on the floor because I can't controll my laughter. Or my twisted toes. Please please come. Please ring the bell so I can run. Oh, I want to run! For you I'll run! I stand only to fall to the couch. I feel weak but I don't mind. My ears pricked for the doorbell and your voice straight in my ear. You say such wonderful things to me... I can't wait for you to be here. So many beautiful things for me... I can't wait to run as fast as I can and see you. You always say the prettiest things, right in my ear, so no one else car hear a breath. Oh how you make me short of them. All my dreams I'll keep for you, in a little glass jar. These day dreams are delicious. Shh.. don't sing so loud, I won't hear when you ring.

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This...

This longing is too much now. It hurts so bad I feel like the slighest glance would kill me. Because I've waited, still waiting, on thin silk threads of hope and hopelesses itself for you to understand, and want and to feel. Oh god. Why? Why do I cry for you, harder than I've ever cried and yet, you know not that I breathe the same air and look up at the same moon at night and wake under same sun everyday.
Fate, how cruel you seem now. Although for good reasons it might have I cannot be greatful. If only stars could be adjusted when time began writing out the courses of our lifes. Found you, yes. And distance didn't so much when I was younger. Now I can feel it. Pounding in my inner cage of bone and flesh. If you could read these words, and know that this is a real feeling and tell me no. Tell me no so I can dream a different dream. Tell me no so I can walk away from this. But.. oh. Don't say no. Just, don't anything. Just hold me there to your cage inside your bones and let me hear your heart beat. For a second then I could be whole, I think. If you let me. Oh god, this hurts so bad. I love you. I love you I love you I love you but you won't know that. You can't until I see you, until we are at last in the same spot for a moment. I don't care how long it is. And all the feelings, the excitment will be there but my face will arrage in set lines of dermination and hunger and loss and yearning to speak the words, those wonderful, horrid, horrible, lovely words to you. And maybe you will roll your eyes and be done with me. Or maybe you will just stare down at me, gaze at me like the Mad Hatter to little Alice and sigh and just say "Thank you." Or maybe you will realized that I was the thing you wanted but fate had to be cruel and it wouldn't work now. Perhaps a crooked smile and a shake of head at a childlike jesutre that you have seen too many times to remember. Maybe you would... kiss me. Just, one. That's it. Please. Just sing Pictures Of You then kiss me. Then walk far away from me, don't send me letters. The longing is too great. Why can't you read this? Damn it why can't you see this?

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