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Saturday, September 22, 2012

Rush


The doors are different.

Yet, they are the same.

I walk on.

And on.

 

I knock on each one.

No answer.

The light used to rush out of the windows.

You used to be there.

 

Even the wind and cars race past me.

Your smile made my life.

Why do I go on?

My world is dark.

 

You probably have no idea.

I will collapse,

from wandering the road

and you will go home.

 

Monday, August 20, 2012

Beautiful


You are beautiful.

You are not beautiful enough.

Up.

Then down.



I want you to think that I am beautiful.

You see a surface that is rough.

Something that is covered in cracks,

that makes you frown.



What do you want?

Should I live for myself or be tough

and emulate what you desire?

Which is more important?



I want you, but I want myself, too.

Kiss me.

Kill me.

You already have.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

My Cup of Tea


I was making a cup of tea.

You came around the corner,

when I looked out the window, you were all I could see.

My heart instantly felt warmer.



You seemed busy,

hunting for somebody, or something.

I stood there breathlessly

trying to move, but, nothing.



Despite your impending obligations,

you stopped, and saw me.

Without hesitations,

you opened the door, and touched your keys.



Without words, you grinned,

and took a pen and piece of paper,

off the counter, and you penned.

Nothing else was said, until later.

Friday, July 13, 2012


Whenever I have a really long day at work, I like to go to the bar and get something to calm my nerves.  You know, unwind just a little bit.  From a long, and I mean freaking long day.  I feel like it’s worth it to end up on the floor the next morning, somewhere, who knows where, after doing who knows what, for who knows how long, and with God only knows who.

I type all day long as a secretary for a newspaper, a smaller one, but not sleazy if that’s what you were going for.  I take calls and type out stories for the people in the back to perfect.  They’re always about what usually goes on at night after the beacon of daylight goes out and people feel like they won’t be responsible for what idiocy they take part in.  But, life lesson doll face, you will most likely always come to terms with what you don’t even remember from the night before.

I came with this guy who has been bugging me for weeks about going out to get a drink with him.  I don’t particularly like him, but I thought, you know, what they hey, I’ll get free alcohol out of it.  Which is hard to find these days, and if you can find it, nobody wants to know what you did for it and they will pay anything for it.

He has slicked back hair, pants that are too baggy, and a walk and smile as slick as the aforementioned locks.  He’s one of those guys who’s like a bee always going around to every flower and asking a suggestive how do you do with a charming gaze.  Right now, I am sitting here with a shot of Jack and I am not sure which one I am on or how many that I have had, but it must be a lot because I haven’t kept up with which girl he is trying to entertain with jokes at this moment.

The Bartender keeps giving me a funny look.  If he gives me any talk about my bangs I am going to kill my hairdresser.  I knew they were too short.  I don’t care about the current look.  I try to look busy with my drink, because clearly it’s the only company I’ll be having tonight.  I drink the last little bit and the bartender quickly saunters over to refill it.

“Ma’am, I noticed that you were looking lonely.”

“I have a date he just seems to be forgetting who he came with.”

He gives a sympathetic expression and fills the glass with ice and more liquid without asking me to pay.

“You don’t need him.”  He says.

“I know.  Didn’t want to go out with him, just wanted him to finally leave me alone.”  I reply.

“Just let me know if you need anything.”

He could tell that I really didn’t want to talk.

So, I looked around for my date and I couldn’t find him.  I decided to people watch for a bit to pass the time.  You can always tell the girls that try too hard.  Their skirts are just a little too high and their makeups just a little too thick to be innocent.  They hang over everything, walls, chairs, words, men.  The drunks fall asleep wherever they are sitting and are usually alone.  So sad, but true.  The under agers are always the funniest to watch because they look like deer in headlights wandering around like they know they will get caught.  Nobody really cares anymore though.

I look down at my watch and it is almost closing time and there is still no sign of the guy.  I take my last drink and set it down.  I circle my finger around the rim a couple of times and then reach in my purse to gather up my money for my countless amount of drinks.  A hand is placed on top of mine.

“It’s all on the house.”

I look up to see the bartender with a warm grin on his face.

“Thank you.”  I stammer.

He draws back his hand and looks at me for a while and says, “You know, I can walk you home if you would like.”

“No, no, I am fine.”

“I just don’t want you to be out this late.  By yourself.”

“Just rub it in why don’t you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“I was rude…I’m sorry, I am just tired.  Of everything, especially men, like him anyway.”

“Did you recently break up with somebody?”  He says as he wipes down the bar and some cups.

“Yes.”

“I am sorry.”

“Don’t be.  He was a real putz.”

He laughed.  And said, “Well, would you mind if a real gentleman, such as myself, took you out for some coffee?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.  There’s this little diner that should still be open.”

“Okay.  But, I’ll pay.”

“No. I insist.”

“Are you sure?  Don’t be a hero.”

He laughed again.  “Positive.”

“Well, okay.”








Saturday, July 7, 2012

My Red Umbrella

I only pick it up when it rains.

Now every day is just the same.

My red umbrella accompanies me

wherever I go, ‘Cause I know,



You won’t be there anymore.

My tears hit the floor.

I never put it down

for the clouds surround.



The clouds are where you used to be.

They are the only ones that comfort me.

You may be on cloud nine, but here

they just, confine.



Tell me what it’s like.

To love life.

‘Cause I might just drown

before anyone, gets to me in time.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

What am I?


What am I?

Am I but only a reflection

of you?  The only outline

of me is your rejection.



Everything that I am disappeared

when you came into my life.

Like a pleasant disruption you dared

to change all that like.



Why then do you go away?

Is this a game and do you enjoy

what confusion you give to me every day?

I just want to bring both of us joy.



My appearance is faded

because you took the light of life from

me.  I remain dumbstruck and jaded,

just an empty shell, feeling so dumb.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Ants


I go to get some

Cheerios, the ants

have already

made reservations.



They have found

the only treasure

in this house.

The O’s look like hugs.



The rest of the

pantry is empty

with only a few

cobwebs to decorate.



The house, pantry,

my heart, and the ants’ stomachs

all share one trait,

near emptiness.