Monday, June 1, 2009

From the Lost Archives

I can only make a guess as to when I wrote these... some of them date back to the tender age of 14, so I will let it begin there. Papers torn from notebooks, patterned journal pages, the backs of receipt tickets... they are here, now, when I had honestly forgotten that they existed. I will try to post them in the order of oldest to youngest, but I am probably making a shoddy estimate.

I give way, now, to these things, though not altogether without a bit of embarrassment! For, you see, I'm reading them for the first time again as I post them here. So, make of it what you will... I'll leave you to it!


If I am too young for you

Why do you try so hard

When I'm still, in sight

A girl

A little girl

All you gentle men

Who have love

You'll have to wait until I come of age

It's just as well this way

It just wouldn't be right... or legal, you know

This girl

Little girl

Why do you still bring this up?

Why are you making you old?

I never wanted to be the pedophile's prize

But I'll agree to be your medicine...

When you need some...

Little girl


You have her hand

Be careful with it

She uses a gentle shampoo

That should say enough

I swear to God

If you hurt her

I'll kill you


He killed a bird

A bird

A bird

He killed a songbird

What if it wasn't one?

He knows he killed something

Sitting on his window

Possibly just because it had a song

And a song was more than he was

He killed a bird

But what if it wasn't a bird?

A bird

What if it happened to be me?



What if it happened to be me?

Queen (For J.L.U.)

You wore platform shoes

And glittered

You were once a child, too

Believing in pictures

Believing in mirrors

Believing in your reflected makeup masks

Felicity, was it fun

In you suit, tie, and eyeshadow?

Felicity, you cry

Holding your youth

As the smoke goes away

Everything fades with it

Felicity, a doll

Felicity, you cry

You've covered your suit and tie

With a party dress

You were beautiful

In a hologram

Still, the memory of mothers

And the things they say...

You were beautiful

You would take the world


If I spoon fed you tears

Would you rain again on me

Loving with picture show, theater faces

In an air conditioned room

You left the keys in the door

And it was cold enough for winter snow

Words on Waking (For D.L.S.)

I found your words in my bed

Your body with me

In my small outline, you seem to fit perfectly

And there are stains on this paper

From other lives I lead

Where it rains

Falls, and I, too

I miss you when I have to go there

And I love you

Nothing between our souls

Everything between ourselves

That could make life,

And you, happy

But I won't let you see another life

Only the world with you in it

And I'll hold to things that drive away the rain and all thoughts, but you


Did I tell you that I woke up to see you

And that I could only love you more than words

Plate (For C.A.H., D.L.S.)


There is no real love

There is no real peace

In the way you talk

I hope that every word you say

Ends up back on your own plate

Where I and my friend stand

Already half-eaten

Or at least having been in your mouth

So... be male!

Be a man!

I still love you

This is just how I am letting myself feel right now

And I hate that

No, I don't want to talk about it

It will be gone tomorrow

And I want it to be

For the first time

Distraction From the Sermon (For S.R.E., C.T.T.)

Strangers, entertain my angels

With electricity

Inside your soul

Inside your hand

You hold your own love

I'll break you

If you ask me to

With your silent lips

And you won't know who

Until you do look for me

And your feet are on the wall

But you won't let it go

Angels carried you this far

You can live through this

Sand is not gone

It is only time

And sifts through your fingers

Like the trains in your head

So... smile for me

Strangers, entertain my angels

You said something about clay

Untitled (For C.T.T.)

I'll climb out of myself, tonight

And use your spine as a ladder

We'll be safe to stay the night

Inside the thought that I could be wrong

You are that thought

The complete lack of judgement

That makes me wrong about most things

But not about us

This is an aquarium

And I'd rather swim than walk, anyway

You know this

You are the only one

Who has spelled my name out in my freckles

And I owe you my head

Pockets (For C.H.)

I have something small to tell you

But please don't think it so strange

And don't you dare worry an ounce

Or at all

Because it was all in love

Just as I am now, with you

And it only hurts for a second

A minute

From prick to heal

Instead, if you should ever ask how I can think at all

As much as I do of you

You'll have an answer

Something to know

I've made a small pocket

Well, a few

Sewn a small pocket into everywhere

Attached to every place I can think of

To think of you

For every small way I remember you, a pocket

And sometimes, a pocket just to make a thought

In the back of my eyes, a part of you

Your face, to see as clearly as possible, whenever I close my eyes

In my ear, your voice to keep me warm when it's so quiet around me, here

In my heart, every little thing that can be thought of

To make you as you

As much of you as you are

Sometimes overwhelming

How happy, abnormal we once were

And should be soon, so soon

Not soon enough...


Whee I lay, one to keep your body

Or the ghost, thereof, while you're away

I keep it there , safe and warm, until I should need it... tonight

Another small, cold night

On my tongue, the words play over and around

And through my head, life, and day... to day... to day...

And speak like you would to me, just to have you there

And in each of my fingers... the tips... a small pocket

They were the first, you see

The first to heal so the rest of the job may be done

These scars that you see are not scars, but my thoughts

That these tips may be used someday to patch up those pockets of yours as they need it

And, as every pocket does scar

And bleed

For a moment the pity is well


As they do become one with the skin that surrounds them...

You'll be there

A permanent fixture on me

That no one can replace

One that I cannot leave, and would never wish to

You will see, I am willing to do this one little thing

As I wait...

As I wait...

She (For J.L.U.)

She can't be love

But maybe enough

To last me through the weekend

His arms tire me

And make me scream

I feel so tied up, but find no threads

Make me love you

Make me cry

It's just what I'm needing to get me by

Make me want to hurt myself

Then I will use up someone else

Sitting alone is probably better

Than spitting all my pain out at her

She complains of being wet

Crying when I've done nothing, yet

You don't know what I could do

Taking one piece, and making two

You would never walk again

If you knew how I feel by the end

Blend the break with your acid words

And burn the places where you know you were

All this time you've spent alone

And missed your chance to be my home

How I love you when you cry

Like I'm playing reaper

How I love her when she sings

And helps me breathe in deeper


Breathe, my friends

Tonight we're together

Tomorrow, we'll end

Shelf Life (For J.K.H.)

I'll be on the dustiest shelf

Of the room you never touch

With the dusts, the dirt of another time

The particles left behind

From stories unfinished

Or, in fact, completed

Or, even still, continued on where the mountain didn't

Where the story had simply fallen off

And should have died sooner

Which makes one understand

That some medication should never be taken

Some lives should not be sustained

Nor pain prolonged

Please, have the dignity to let me go

Then again, my love, how will we tell the difference?

Who will be writing; telling what should be told?

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