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These are some of my oldest poems, dating back 6 years or so.
you sneak! creeping up on me like champagne bubbles going to my head only you went for my heart and now i’m doomed.
it’s so easy to undo what i feel for you i’ll just watch out for your faults and your nasty habits it’ll be easy i just hope you cannot play the guitar
let this be over soon without me shedding tears for the moon as i’ve done for years besides, it is the same i picked the wrong prize for the game can’t expect it to be nice besides my reasons are few not to mention wrong just because of pictures he drew just because of a song let this be over, please for i refuse to play a part i simply ask for release don’t let him break my heart
three days fasting fourth on the way the love is dying gasping it lay there will be no mourning no prayers to say just his voice singing at the end of the day quietly creeping the music will play my soul pretending to keep it at bay oblivion is waiting the skies are grey love stood defying said, “come what may”
archangel of mine my angel dear to whom my love committed me here up to this day empty is my side no one to light no one to guard no one to rule no one to guide for ever and ever amen
we sit beside each other all that empty space says all that is between us our necks stiff from turning away and turning inside to converse in our heads he to the one who left him behind and i to him while the music fills up between us and becomes a solid wall as i listened to the words he sends by heart across the darkening skies as i listened to the words i silently whisper by heart to him punctuated by a sigh which he echoes for reasons that exclude me i nudge my heart chastising it for playing dead and reluctantly it beats brokenly angrily the music ends i stand to leave he turns to me and smiles bitterly my heart beats “fool! fool!” and i knew not whether it spoke to him or me
spiraling down from the skies screaming loud sting in my eyes faster i fell crashed to the ground then i was still i made no sound and the blood seeped slowly out the doctor came as the people shout: "is she dead? how’s her head?" "are her bones torn apart?" "no," the doctor said, "see the blood, she has merely broken her heart."
it was a yellow day though it was raining and the sky was golden instead of gray like an old photograph we seemed my heart watched you smile and heard you laugh so eager you were basking in the yellow hue of a day’s ending i acted like it didn’t matter i was intent to act that my life is made of more than yellow days and that i was content yet if i would be true i should say that it was a damned fine yellow day because there was you
relieved that you are gone now i can be healed the scars will be light the pain forgotten the blood will be washed away by water not tears come when i am well we shall talk but not to remember perhaps we can start all over again like we just met
i write you back in, in pencil, lightest shade with light strokes, easy to rub out, and would not stain much. the story begins in the middle, expecting to pick up where it left off, but the first pages had been washed away. don’t you want to take a fresh sheet, white and new and perfect still. you see, the old story has a dead end which cannot be changed. this time, tell that once upon a time there was you and there was i and tell that now all we have between us is new and nothing
| poems for sebastian | revisiting ruins | musings | a crooked path |
| a man of god | old times | spaced out | stars too bright |
Acknowledgments
