19 Apr 2017

A guitarist pulls strings
giving life to a piece of wood
like a puppeteer

I wonder,
Did the tree ever predict it would sing so softly
when the wood cutter was tearing at its side?
When my eyelids close,
yours open

We just live on two seperate sides of an ocean

You live somewhere on my top eyelid
as I await slumber on the shores of my bottom eyelid

knowing that the difference between us
is merely my every waking moment.

To the beloved of my dreams,
why do you keep my nightmares company?

I remember when you pulled me out of the pack.

How you inspired my spirit
How your winds pulled me into your breast
But now I have reached the moment of expiration

I know it's selfish, but I feel so jealous
when the kiss of another makes you feel the same way

Look I don't expect you to understand
because I'm more addicted to you than you are addicted to me

I'm cigarette.
Everytime we kiss
I provide you a pleasure, but you provide me a purpose.

And tell me, what can be more addicting than a reason to live?

It is not the sting of whips on my back
that makes me work relentlessly

It is the hope that when the day is through
all I can do is crawl into an empty bed and find you in my dreams

Every night I come to you in chains
knowing all the while, that if I am not the source of my own happiness
I will continue to be a slave.

I should have noticed the strings dangling from your mouth
when you kissed me for the first time.

Your tongue tied the other ends to my heart.
So that with every movement of your lips my heart danced.

And now that they are drifting away,
my heart feels the agonizing pull of tightening strings
tuned to the ears of lost pilgrims.

Upon them, I compose beauty from pain like spirituals rising from

It seems, all my songs will be played upon the strings of attachment
until they irreparably rip open my locked heart
so that all of its prisoners are set free

and no one can be denied its shelter.