Pretty Friends

There’s a hollow hum

Noises made by the dumb

Words of self-centered wisdom

Seekers who know not what it’s like to give

There’s a shallow lung

Breathing smoke and amphetamines

Taking score of everyone

Or so she says in breaking silence

 

Well, my pretty friends

Here we are

In the midst of the lame, the lurid, the sane

Well, my pretty friends

Here we are

The paint’s not doing you good

For yes, beauty is not skin deep

I just wish you understood

 

There’s a deep vein

It’s been pumping a lot of pain

They say it’s momentary

But knowing me, I know it’s everything but temporary

There’s a callous heart

Pays for all, beats for none

Cold as stone, bends all bones

Or so she claims in fun

 

Well, my pretty friends

Here we are

The suns long gone, you’re bare and I’m undone

Well, my pretty friends

Here we are

Arm in arm, lip by lip, hip to hip, caresses and slips

Never-mind the clocks and alarm bells

For we’ll never get from the bed to the crib

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Words

Words,
If not for words,
This would never be written
If not for words,
This would forever be lost in time

If not for words that have been spoken,
There would be no faint of heart or strength in love
If not for words that have been spoken,
Emotions would die deaths of agony in silence

For the words I write
For the words I speak
Thou shan’t find a finer meaning or expression of me
In time, in history, in memory, in ink

Words,
Undulated like the sands of the Sahara
Standing tall in time
Formed by the letters that make them

If not for words, silence would behold one
If not for words, the deaf and dumb would remain unspoken
If not for words, there would no stories to tell of
And little children would sleep quiet nights of no dreams

It is but words I write and words that I speak
That make me more than a lump of flesh and bone
It is but words I write and words that I speak
That feed me life in every breath that I take, in every morsel of my soul

If not for words, what would I be?
You and or me, lost in a crowd, a sea
Of opinions and perceptions alike with no voices or choices
We’d lay bare, stripped off all emotions
Naked and broken

Words,
Timid yet powerful
Like little ants forming sand castles in the jungle
Quietly weaving a story to be spoken in time

Words,
Like the jagged peaks of the Himalayas
Standing tall in time
Formed by the letters that make them

Life, if I were just a book…

Life would be easier if I were just a book
Written in moments of peaceful silence
In moments of bottled anger
In moments of quiet reflection
Written with some thought, some fantasy, some hope, and some love
That perhaps someone will understand
Leave a little note at the bottom of the pages
And return to wonder
That precise moment and thought that made them ponder

Life I’m sure would be simpler if I were just a book

Life…

Life is a whisper

Fades before you hear

Clearly

The message disappears

In volumes of chaotic fear

Slipping

Through your muddied conscience

Lost into oblivion

Waiting

I can hear it drip
From the cuts that I bear
Pools of crimson red
Try as hard as I may
Pieces of a heart
Now lay scattered in disarray
Some say, wasted in wait
Never to come back again
But I smile in my pain
Waiting as she smiles through my gray

I can hear it drip
From the cuts that I bear
Like the sound of a beating drum
It breathes in fear
And for all that I have lost
In the wounds and scars I fare
Mornings pass by into nights
Millions of words tell me someone cares
For reasons only they can define
Waiting as she smiles through my tears

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