PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Like the prophets, the candles bleed out

and die

Karma says

I'm going to get you

I'm going to get you good my friend

You'd better lace your shoes and you'd

better count your time



I speak in tongue to the shadow

Watch the smoke rise to the

light and change its color

So what if I can't give the inch that

you expect in your miles away

Where did you go anyhow, that it

was so distantly spaced and fake



The answer is a fingertip near



Hang on while I blink, I hope I

missed something

Something huge.

I hope it slithers down my spine and

hits the right nerve and makes me ache to the bone



You won't know what you've caused until it happens to you

You realize one day seven years later that you cut your arm pretty bad

There are scars, and you roll your window down and you shake

your head violently at the sound

At fifteen you were an entirely different girl, and at twenty-two you

find yourself unfolding down to the brain

You call your mother and she tells you well honey you've been

this way for awhile

I've tried to tell you



And the birds are tangling knots in your stomach

so severe that you lean over the fence and throw up

That same fence you crossed and hid for an hour hoping

you could have a reason to go home

Whatever it would take to make those three hours and

tell you grandfather exactly what you think

He gave you twenty dollars for the struggle.

He gave the uncle ten thousand plus for the drugs

and you thought you were special

you thought you had something more appealing then weakness



Just

shut

up



Just shut up and give me the lies and the buried limbs of the dogs

And I'll play drums on the top of the drywall buckets and tell you that

everything ive done, had you behind it

There is no room in my heart for time, or standing on the corner admiring

I have seen the clouds and the colors and depth of a morning

But if I can't feel, then I may as well be

that deer my grandfather shot out of kindness so it

wouldnt die alone in the woods

It was very good of him

(and I forgave him)



It took awhile but I forgave everyone

I still harbor my anger, a deep port of guilt and no seashells

god, no more seashells

No more piers and porchswings and the same story of where

things were and then where they went

I've grown too full for anything constructive, I used to know the

anatomy of a human body, but the human body is lost to me

I can only remember the endorphins and how they deceive your mind

And that is why there was no love that night in the wheat fields

I still havent cried, over that



"So this is what it is, and you can't analyze it

you can't stick your hand in and taste it and say it

tastes like chocolate

because it tastes like vanilla, I meant it to be vanilla

You can't do that

This is merely a surface and you can't think deeper of it

You can't make a sentence into a conviction, and think that

its something ive held in for you because trust me

with the shape im in... i have nothing to offer you

So don't ask me those questions that need better answers

I carry you because I have to

and that's it, that's all you get.

Dont ask for the rest



You just can't do that."