the pleasantries
weren't put aside
as much
as
they were
tossed;
abandoned.
and the open hands
became bricks
because the failure
had become
too much
and the honesty
was easily
pushed around,
quick to load
into
that gun
we had eluded
regret
for the time being--
it was outside
flirting
with a sunset,
counting
birds
on a wire.
kiss from a judas
Friday, September 14, 2007
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
something in the air
was wrong.
shifting,
warm,
fried and floral.
i drove
at dawn
listening to concerning eye
remembered how you laughed
like you've never been
scared
before.
it was never the same
after the accident...
you professed
love
for a god
you didn't even acknowledge
the week before
a blanket,
a ruse.
forced the harvest hand;
and the lost
always
find a way
to become a loss
you weren't one for goodbyes
just some really good stories left behind
some books you called friends
some paintings you called children
words.
words.
words.
words never saved a fucking thing
not anyone,
not mine, yours
or theirs.
it was another day
just a happy song
broken into sad parts
as i drove
into
the dusk.
was wrong.
shifting,
warm,
fried and floral.
i drove
at dawn
listening to concerning eye
remembered how you laughed
like you've never been
scared
before.
it was never the same
after the accident...
you professed
love
for a god
you didn't even acknowledge
the week before
a blanket,
a ruse.
forced the harvest hand;
and the lost
always
find a way
to become a loss
you weren't one for goodbyes
just some really good stories left behind
some books you called friends
some paintings you called children
words.
words.
words.
words never saved a fucking thing
not anyone,
not mine, yours
or theirs.
it was another day
just a happy song
broken into sad parts
as i drove
into
the dusk.