it's the first of the month,
yet my sheets stay unclean.
i find myself staring at the ceiling, lying in bed.
dreams so fresh reeling from my subconscious.
i struggle to grasp my flight of rationality,
sweetly lulled departure from my pillow,
deluding reality from passionate desire.
maybe that's why i write essay after essay,
stretching my primal instincts over
carefully constructed arguments.
i say what i say because i fear,
because what stared back at me was marred
with imperfection i know you don't deserve.
does it shock you to know i'm scared.
one desire,
in an effort almost sacrosanct yet ultimately human.
open your mouth, speak.
i struggle to find solace in the consolation i conjure,
for deed will never replace the warmth of a verb.
that i may never be that tall or brooding,
that i may never be able to take you by the arm
and fly you to journeys i cannot even piece
in my unsaturated minefield of a heartbeat.
with pen and heart
so calmly projecting everything i think i can be,
the only way i know how.
yanking breath and streaming paralysis,
as i tear my eyes awake from this world
i never was meant to be a part of.


03 August 2010
11:28:00 PM __________________________________________