You Made Your Choice

I'm angry with you today.
I'm angry with you today.
I'm angry with you today.
My choice?
Mine?
It was your choice.
Your choice.
I tried.
Everything.
I wanted to make it work.
You believed it
best to leave it be,
I followed your words.
I did what you said.
And the pain was so great.
The pain ate me alive.
The pain still won't go away.
Because
you
made
the
choice
not
to
be
with
me.
I'm angry with you today.
You think I should wait?
I deserve better
than
that.
I had no choice.
You made the choice for me,
for us,
for you.
And I am now
left,
with
just
me,
and what I
do
with
me
is for me to keep.
You made your choice,
the day you walked out.
Now to save your pride
you
blame
me for choosing.
I chose
because I had no choice.
You had your chance,
and I gave you many,
and even if
my love for you
clings to
me
forever,
you made your choice.
Now
I
Live
Mine.

I Hear the Storm

There was a Storm coming.

And she blew

away.

There was a Storm coming,
she kissed his pain away.

The Storm came,
washed all love ashore.

The Storm disappeared
and now she's
begging for more.

Toothbrush

The paste begins to
lather,
at the corners
of my lips,
till nothing's
left
but the white froth
coating my face.
I stare at my reflection,
my eyes look wide,
my mouth looks ill,
the bristles of the toothbrush
massaging my teeth.
I sip the tap,
cool water
gurgles in my throat,
I spit,
and gurgle
and spit some more.
Suddenly its little neighbor,
the pink version of mine,
stares at me unused,
and the memories swarm back in.
A tear rolls down my cheek,
as I place my toothbrush alongside his,
once, when it was all so easy.
I take his toothbrush,
bristles barely touched,
and I
save his toothbrush,
because maybe one day
he
will
need
to
use
it
again.

Love Hurts

I ain't gonna tell you to give up.
I ain't gonna tell you to stop trying.
In fact I'll tell to wait.
To focus on what's you.
On what's the thing
that makes you tick.
But yea,
Lets get this fucking thing straight,
we all suffer
from this little illusion
from what is.
But believe me darling,
there really ain't nothing to go by.
Just yourself.
At first it seems sweet,
like blood softer than any water
flowing from your insides
and you'll tell me otherwise,
but it all takes work.
And sometimes you'll try your damnedest
to make it work
and then it explodes like knives
into your little sweet sockets of a brain.
And it suddenly don't make sense.
Here's sense for ya,
don't go looking,
and nine times outta ten,
he ain't worth the bother.
But then suddenly,
once you've marked your
talent,
he'll come running
like a desperate little rabbit,
and you're
on
top
of
the
fucking
world.
But honey,
it don't matter,
because
you have you.
And maybe someday
you can
share
it
with someone
you think
worth your
time
.

Shimmer

I feel your rock in my heart.

I balance it on my face,

the smooth surface

almost like the taste of your skin.

Once, you gave me this,

a very long time ago,

and now near my bedside

I keep it,

hoping it will help me grow.

A lot of pain

has paved my way,

and mostly everything is

understood,

but this stone

this rock,

this shimmering mineral,

I keep close to my heart,

because you knew

how much this stone

meant to me,

and here it sits,

on my shoulder,

a blessing,

and I hope and pray

it will suck all the pain away.

Ingrown Heart

She's ingrown.
Turned inside out,
flesh exposed,
burning in the sun.
She's ingrown,
falsely amused,
facing downward.
She's ingrown,
from all the pinches
dug deep in her flesh
bruising
beyond recognition.
She's ingrown,
loved so hard,
fought with brains
now left
to shield.
She's ingrown
before the mirror
flashing teeth.
I'm ingrown,
and
ready to set free
the love
I continue to
believe.

Hill in Force

Gotcha.

She couldn't let go.

Gotcha.

Twisted with concern.

Gotcha.

And then a spiral twist.

From that moment on

she sprang to fruition,

holding onto something

that was thought to become,

but never lasted.

A lonely spider

in a kiln

suffocating within her own web

then loose beyond any thrill.

I couldn't say

how hard the climb was.

But it takes a harder step to cross it,

and another to move it.

And although

my reflection seeks beauty and peace,

my heart despairs

along the everlasting

road that's

been trampled to bits.

Could I have said it then?

I did but with less grace

do I hold onto something

that's totally killing the core of everlasting sorrow,

between these walls I seek the courage

to not become the victim

of my own demise.

And why would anyone ever want me?

Not because I don't believe I deserve it,

but maybe because there is no one there.

A happy thought,

but nothing that could stick

inside my heart.

And yet I dream

and hopelessly fall for something

that's poor and

indisposed.

A book is comfort

and book is a dream

a poem is food

a poem is...

Bruised.