touch my face

i can remember




i can complain
about everything that keeps me sane




somebody asks me if i'm nervous


and i think



i'm too many other things
and i guess that could be one of them


hazy clouds and monochrome rainbows





i sit in the darkened corner of the glass walled cage i built around my thought spot

there is a hole in the floor of this 8' X 4'



a bottle of SoCo and a knife to pour it into my veins that much quicker





familiar overwhelming mirrors cast my gaze back at me and i crumple into tears






rocking thoughtless back and forth with my arms around my knees



dreaming of an embrace other than my own
i looked into those eyes



"i have no boundaries"





.....but i can see one
or two.....





this precious moment holds me in its grasp forever

tieing me here so that my body doesn't have to

pleasantly intoxicated secrets fly on wings of black lace and CD epiphanies
those nights i shall remember

while my guitar string broken echoes reverberate my glass walls, covered in salty finger prints





touch my face again
and convince both of us that this is not a dream






sometimes we're lonely


i try to live for more than the here and now



but i enjoyed that way too much




just another one of those perfect things that are too good to be true





and here i am

sitting



writing away


watching those black lace winged memories fly tumultuously



as i am precariously perched upon the edge of that hole

bottle in hand

singing myself hoarse





through tears, fears, and thougts




to keep those memories aloft




thinking of when i might



....perhaps......

add to them








touch my face



convince us both that i

am not








a dream