emotions are like fingerprints;
with twists and twirls;
so, saying that you’ve been there too
just doesn’t make the statement true.
overworked and underpaid.
clock in early, head home late.
shifting through shit day-to-day.
all ambition: grades of grey.
justified by money made.
ain’t that the ’merican way?
i pour me
right into we
we’re not one
our love’s undone.
my eyes see;
refuse to plead
or beg on knees.
i’m here now.
i turned around
and stood my ground.
suddenly startled from slumber;
completely covered in cold sweat;
her head hangs heavy, hunched forward;
throat tied tightly, too tense to breathe;
panicked pulse with pins and needles;
chest clutched cchambers compressed.
something wild from which she awoke?
or wilderness that she woke to?
this march roared in like a lion;
it may not march out like a lamb.
i’ve learned about some things,
and just like the in spring,
beginnings don’t follow a plan.
subject to sensitivity.
full of feeling.
engulfed in emotion.
predecesor to pathetic.
call me what you will;
my will won’t waiver.
and we drove
with the windows cracked just so;
enough to hear the walls of waves;
enough to steal stray rays of light;
enough to breathe the blowing breeze
of the shore,
of the speed,
of your love over me.
not to anywhere at all,
but to everywhere at once.
fields of flowery prose
being sowed to fill holes
in a muddied-down message
and windfalls of words.
but all you really need
is a handful of seeds;
go ahead and make messes
to make sure you’re heard.
i’m rubber and you’re glue.
if only that saying was true;
then my words to stop you leaving
maybe would have stuck with you.
a pseudo-scientific fact
(that i learned when I was 8):
it is impossible to drown
if you stop splashing,
and let yourself rest on the waves.