Puke Poetry

Heart like a hand grenade, fully-automatic weapon for a mind.

Monday, May 14, 2007

same moon

i woke up this morning - on my own, no face next to me, eyes closed, head on a pillow - feeling like i'd already
packed and ripped one - you and everything was a haze
you because of distance and the world because i can't get it away

i know the plot line - i know the beginning
and i know the end
i know the result and decadence
of dancing round and round these holy circles
dizzy and losing my way

why is your question
and because is my answer
take everything i've ever told you
and there is your answer:
i'm alone and hollowed out
my mind is a hurricane and my heart wishes it could
get back to racing
destruction is the perfect description
and i can't close my eyes without falling back into another time where all i could do was bite my lip and mind
pretending not to cry
there's no rest for the wicked
and not an ounce of disappointment when nothing is expected
that's your answer why
so that i can sleep
so that my thoughts can get quiet and fade into the background

i could pull the moon down
cause that's the only time we breathe
but i can tell you how it ends, it's us
staring to the sky thinking where the other is
and if they're doing just the same.

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