Because she looked like Audrey Hepburn and had a heart the size of the sun I knew I wouldn’t ever be good enough for her, but I tried anyway. I am still trying.
The temperature is rising, the world is warming, my blood is rushing faster, my hands are impatient, and thanks to the season I am thirsty for love.
It has been too long since I've written.
Send me ideas to write about and inspiration?
If you thought gravity was rough try to live under the weight of so many crushes. I will be the boy with the broken bones and roses waiting for a woman with the courage to love me back.
This is the only graveyard where we dig ourselves up Remove our skeletons and go on about our way Don’t worry I will still know all you people That feel too much You will bear stitched scars, over broken hearts Trying to be well No one wants to be broken No one wants anyone to see their cracks But me, I am content to be one of the wounded Bury myself the black of the earth And wait, For...
My head is full of dirty jokes and literary quotes and I’m hoping that’s enough for someone to love me. Do you think you could take me the way I am with holes in my hands, without a way to keep you here? Could you take me as I am laying on my back without a spine trying in vain to piece together new constellations. I am the dreamer being pulled in too many directions. I am coming apart...
I’d call you a crush but the weight of it might be too much for you. Sunk down into the earth, among the moles and snails isn’t where you belong. Or maybe it is, maybe you will set down roots to weather the winter so that when spring comes flowers bloom from your fingers. The bees will busy themselves trying to pollinate while being careful with their stingers. Maybe you are a vine...
There comes a point where words are wasted if I tell you that you’re beautiful again. Go to the sea and when you come to where waves meet shore take a look at yourself in the wash and see what I see. If you can’t I will hide underwater and whisper it to you so that you think all this love is coming from yourself, where it should be. I am not enough. I am just a man, or a sack of...
I knew she was a woman because of how aware she made me of my hands and how much I wanted to touch her but couldn’t until I had her permission. I knew she was a woman because she walked with both a rhythm and the wind. I knew she was a woman because she knocked me over without speaking to me and left my lying there my back on the concrete staring up at the sky waiting for it to be night so...
This isn’t a love song. This is me asking you why. Why don’t we talk anymore? I miss the way your voices rises when you’re excited about some new things? Why don’t you call anymore? You had your own ringtone and sometimes I’d put off answering so I could dance, I could dance. Why don’t you come around anymore? Why don’t you knock on my door and let me...
I am scared of silence. I am scared of the way that quiet creeps in and wraps its tentacles around your neck. I am afraid I might be suffocated.
If you are walking among the clouds I have to wonder do my thoughts of you have enough gravity to pull you down. Come live with me on the ground amongst the bugs and insects. We will make a summer house out of flower blooms. And when winter comes to wither our home. We can move into a cave, light fires, and watch the flame’s shadows dance along the walls.
I don’t know the patience of creation I don’t know what it’s like to take 6 days to make something. If I made the world zebras wouldn’t have different patterns There would only one copied and pasted over and over I might tire of drawing manes on lions So a few might have mohawks or crew cuts And stick out from all the rests If it were up to me birds wouldn’t wait till...
I learned to love in all directions like a paper airplane caught in the wind. I learned to love the sound a woman makes when her feet strikes the ground. I learned to love in echoes so that it will always come back again. I learned to love larger than myself so that I will know that I am more than just this body. I am the air. I am the passing breeze that you haven’t inhaled yet. I smell...
Shouldn’t there be a prize for those of us who survive the night? Not those people who lay content in their beds, comfortably wrapped up in comforters, dreaming that everything will be better. I am talking about those of us who stay up raging against the night, abandoned by sleep, forced to hang our wishes on shooting stars because they are our only hope. I hope to one day sleep well and...
This is the golden time we have spun out of the sun’s rays and draped across our bodies so that we might wear out each day. I want to spend each day expiring so that I will be born again tomorrow. I’ve come to know the best mirrors are your eyes because I am the best version of myself in them. I don’t want to wait till tomorrow to become the man I’m supposed to be...
wedontgopastpage17onthisblog asked: pt. 2 and you'll be left with pretty flowers and dead flowers etc. Subtlety and discretion is the key. I'm sure there must be similar criticisms about the crap I do and even this message, I know there is, I just wanted to say something because you seem to see the world in a cool way and I'd like to see more things like what I came here from originally.
wedontgopastpage17onthisblog asked: Hai, someone reblogged 'that-thing-wut-you-did' called 'flirt' and I felt compelled to check out your blog because I really like what your wrote. Honestly, it (your blog as a singular object) bugs me more than a little and I really felt like I should say something. You seem to leap into convoluted and unnecessary imagery almost immediately and keep hammering away at the same...
It is unfortunate when you get in one of those flirty moods and the people next door to you are married as are all the people downstairs. The guys that live across from you are just that guys and don’t spark your interest. You think about going out but you realize that you’ve put off all your work for this lazy Sunday that you’ve napped away half of already. It is a shame...
The season is changing, the weather is setting in. Some are in a rush to cover their bodies, to warm themselves but not I. I am amongst those whose blood is boiling and hands are aching trying to stretch myself across empty places. I am among those who are the echoes of heart beat. I am the breath on a woman’s lips right before she is kissed. I am the goosebumps on her arms as she waits...
Pardon me, I was born with hands too heavy to raise my fists at every ghost that scares you. Save my number for when you’re really in danger and I’ll be there to fight. Ignore the insignificant and the infantile, a brave man has no need to fight phantoms, he just needs to fight for you.
I need a new story to tell.
I’m going out tonight. Let me pick out the best skeleton in my closet. I’ll be wearing my secrets on the inside in hopes that I can look you in the eye. What becomes of the courageous? Do they die any more nobler than the scared? I don’t want to die alone knowing that I never told anyone, anything. I will bleed back time to get to yesterday. I should have spoken up when the...
Back when I was brave, back when I had guts, I needed my ribcage. But now that I am coward I am carving stories on each of my rib bones. I’ll place them in bottles and cast them out to see. If you find them you will know how I got to be me. Back when I used to love I needed a heart. Now that I don’t know how I all I need is a beat. I’ll record the way my heart sounds before...
Sometimes when my neighbor showers I think it is raining outside that is when I miss you the most. Because I can remember a girl who looked her best during a storm but now you’re gone to a land where the sun’s always shining and somehow I think you may be dulled out there. Come back to us where the sky gets moody and often gray. Come back where you are that sometimes light on the...
They sky is falling We’ve forgotten our umbrellas So when the clouds descend Let’s cover our faces And have a masquerade ball I will be more handsome than you remember And you will be good You will be good
I am exchanging time for talks with her. Here’s a second, give me a smile. Here’s a minute let me here you laugh. If I give you an hour what can I return? Can I hollow out a place in this world where the clock’s hands won’t touch us for awhile. I can slip away from everything as long as you’re waiting for me there.
She is going to fall in love with you. The girl in the front row that you’ve been silently falling in love with is not going to fall in love with you. It doesn’t matter that you picked her out amongst her amongst the beer soaked men and the liquored up ladies. You haven’t done enough. You won’t stand out. Not the way your friend does. He is up front with the curly...
I want to excavate your spine with these hammer and chisel fingers to prove you can still be brave. It’s going to take a lot of courage to love. Bother the bees for a bit of their wax to plug your ears. People always have too much to say. If you’re going to love me you’re going have to quiet all the voices that tell you why you shouldn’t. If you’re going to love me...
I can feel my skin breaking loose like some human cocoon but inside is no butterfly, just a naked man of muscles, bones, and adipose tissue. I will step into the world uncovered and unprepared, sharpen the nearest stick into a spear and cry war with the world.
My heart doesn’t beat back loud enough for me to know if I am real, so I will take my arms and legs in hand, see if I can manipulate them like puppets. Am I Pinocchio or am I the real boy? I spend so much time pleasing others I don’t know anymore. Here’s a knife, cut me, see if you draw blood or splinters. Draw me the way you will. You can be the artist to tell me exactly who I...
These are the words I’ve saved for you I want to watch you walk across thunder clouds To see how you handle the storm, till I pull you down by bare ankles here, Where brown eyes can hold you I see you with the backs of my eyelids I dream about you Dull eyes making rough cuts You’re a surgeon Removing my legs for my own good I won’t walk away like those other men did I...
I removed by bones just to make a cage for myself Now I’m spineless worshipping my surroundings like they’re church I’ll be the one singing hymns in my inside voice Because my Daddy told me not to be too loud or everyone else will think you’re a fool
It is often the ones that I get along with least that I am attracted to the most. The passion and fire spurred on by our differences only need to be redirected so that we can bask in each others heat. Don’t give me a partner that will simply tell me yes, nod her head and go along with what I say. Give me someone who makes my blood boil, makes me want to scream just by challenging...
In the day the sunlight is too much for me so I cut my light on and let it be washed out instead of facing its glory. At night I do not like any light at all. I don’t want to be shined down with any fluorescent judgement. I just want to be left alone in the dark. In the dark I can’t see that my body is too round and soft, that the curves of my body have swelled too large. There...
What’s with these late nights of loving and longing and longing to be loved. We all have gaps and it’s not enough to stay up late and try to fill them with stardust. There are only rooms that feel like prisons whether or we are at home or running empty mugs along the counters of dive bars. I’ve thought I could find my better self on the side of the street, thumb out waiting...
When it rains
When it rains, I think This must be Seattle fish markets smell like, But I wouldn’t know I’m just an east coast boy Walking slowly, So that Pacific time catches up to me I’ll tell you about my California dreams While asking you to ignore The splish and the splash of me, trying, to extricate my legs from thick red mud Before tomorrow comes And the kiln of the southern spring Bakes...
I should use this more...
Does anyone even remember me?
I am bumping my head against low ceilings cursing myself for getting this tall or maybe the room is too small and to blame my stunted growth. I never asked for anything short of being a hero strong enough to save your world. What’s a man to do with his hands if he cannot build love from nothing?
It doesn’t matter how many sunrises you flee somewhere there is a cock’s crow that cannot be extinguished So let’s be men, let’s be women, let’s be human, Let’s begin Your body laying perfectly still will not hold up the skies and keep the forecast from falling and if you remain longer You will be stuck watching these strangers you call friends Become stranger...
There was a time when I was poetic and words leapt from my fingers like new blooms in the spring. to the women I loved, I gave bouquets and called them poetry. I said this is for you and only for you. I have been unfaithful with my words so I was never loved back. I just never learned it is a crime to love every woman.
Desperately seeking inspiration...
They’ve given a name to the space that lies between us Called it distance as if that was enough In between you and I there are farmers confused over crop circles Girls going to their first dances and boys wondering when to go for the kiss Between us there are homeless men begging outside of local bars Because college kids make such easy marks I have driven 80 mph with my hands off the...
Last night I dreamt of poetry I wrote for a lover I haven’t met yet. All I remember is that “mouth of the earth is a black hole and swallows everything.” Tonight when I sleep I will try to remember the rest. Use that first line as a base and stitch a dress for her out of my words. I will only ask her to wear it long enough to leave it on my floor but take care to step out of...
These are my drunken nights where I start fist fights versus future doubts and marvel at my inability to hit anything. These are the nights where I stretch my muscles in hope of finding some sort of strength. Instead I find myself shipwrecked and seasick with no hope of escape. I will send you a message in a bottle if you promise me that you will at least respond. If I can’t have your...
I’m searching for back alley bars to spend it in I will get drunk next to aluminum trash cans Kiss the wife of a wino Eat cheese amongst the rats And ring in the new year’s with the sound of sirens Happy New Year’s!
You are a bird with freshly feathered wings All I have to offer is steel cage words So you say you can’t give into me, you can’t bow to my demands I cannot hold you, no matter how cavernous my hands If I cannot give you the wind, I cannot give you anything You told me I was the one supposed to leave and wonder what happened Is there too much red clay on the soles of my shoes What is it...
Wealth is a twenty dollar bill And a knowledge of the town’s best drink specials At least that’s what it is to me But I’ve never been right I always bet on the Cubs Call tails when quarters insist on landing heads up So maybe I’m not rich now But I got enough money to down myself And half a mind to do so The other half clings to hope with broken fingernails Ignoring that...
I miss you most in the morning with the winter wind has arrived premature and kisses my cheeks till they are rosy. The hummingbirds are absent till spring and I will not hear the wings beat heavy against the wind. We woke before dawn, dug our bodies out of their coffins so that we might be alive in time to see the sunrise. I have nowhere to go and you have everywhere to be but that...
I keep odd hours unsure if time can be even or if it cares to be anything at all. It seems to me that man constructed time out of small hands into something bigger than he ever thought it would be, let it get away from him, and now is busy chasing after it all the time. I am guilty myself of chasing moment, after moment, trying to trap some lovely woman with me for a few seconds of our time. ...