découpage in hyperthymesia

it felt like a mistake
to memorize your smile

you're always in the hallway
coming (or going?)
and i don't feel like being home
so you can talk to the machine

[now, my wires frayed soldered and rearranged]

-but it's the other way around-
losing friends and missing lovers
walking on bottle caps and broken glass
love is just a passing chemical in my head
-maybe that is the way it goes-

bookends holding these words together
the tales from my nightstand
maybe it's worse to forget


________________________________________________
my anti-panic attack

i accept the universe wrong
though i choose not to attach myself
so i wander up and down at
the library, downtown, alone.
(remember, no medals are awarded for loneliness)
suddenly! i lay in the greenglade;
my ear to the grass,
looking into Her eyes
knowing hers into mine.
with a laugh meet my lips.
our bodies ebb.
our bodies flow.
(remember! life is too short
to spend waiting for disaster)

suddenly eden opened for an instant.
in giving i didn't find You.
i was discovered, myself.
at night, we feast on each other.
in the morning, She wakes me with a kiss.
i heard Your voice as i rose
from the library floor (head aching).
somehow Your message was on repeat.
(remember? how i said i was afraid)

i was afraid of becoming a cemetary
of performance, for when excuses are
dead i must act. and without hesitation
we began to dance and swore to never
return. to stay where lack of time
negates sickness-death's but a timetable.
Your beauty merciless,
oft, the way love acts.

with nothing but love
i'm better now.

***************************************************

mourning morning

i first met you under an old tree.
An old sailor on my first voyage,
your song rang out like a siren

(now, i wandered and i wondered)

our melodies resonated in harmony

though melody became harmony...
and harmony became dissonance...
while dissonance, once again, became melody...

could i?...
(of course, can is a question of ability)
should i?...
(of course, just to prove you don't)

body through the air,
head first into the concrete,
a shattered spine.

(i told you that you don't)

(as i got up to walk away)

i heard an old willow weeping in the wind.
i flew to the top on broken wings
to comfort it when...

There...

was a lone Girl, sitting amongst the branches.
The thorn in Her side was a mirror image of mine.

suicide, manic, depression...

She sat there gazing into the sky,
naming each star one by one,
so that they might feel love.

She turns...
(and She's beautiful, lovely, almost expectant)
She turns, nonetheless, to me and says (naming),

"I shall call you love, for we've never met"

Now, everynight we soar through the cosmos,
on our broken wings from the top of our old willow...

Hoping the daylight doesn't bring us back down like gravity.




visual art for Mourning Morning (Rhys Ki's request)

http://viewmorepics.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=viewImage&friendID=83830331&albumID=1025454&imageID=37525255

_____________________________________________________________
lips like sugar kissing

[here's]
a passionate gleam;
where nothing feels right,
and it makes you wonder...

why are we living?