Send me a nurse

(just a disclaimer, I know how utterly fucked up this sounds, im just really sick and a million unrelated words filtered through my mind. These are those words, purified and unorganized)

It didn't take that long for the room to pull apart, splitting in half like a plastic Easter egg. My brain turned into alphabet soup and the water danced in her pipes like Mexican jumping beans, shaking the little ones awake. I hear violins in the living room, but I forgot how to play. His mouth opens like a sewer drain and you dive right in. You don't want to be alone. The rats will welcome you home. Someone is sleeping in the attic.

Lost Letters

The first time we locked eyes, I fell in love.
Your tall, slim body sat bored, uninterested in what she had to say.
I sat still, imagining the lightness of your frame.

I left you alone...

But your golden skin begged for my touch.
I wanted to sink my teeth into you.
I wanted you to scream the words I begged to say.

I left you alone...

But when I look at you, I lose all thought.
My finger tips ache to pull you close, palms pulsing down your back.
The whispers I beg to formulate spill from the darkness of your eyes.

I can’t ignore you.

You know that thing you were thinking?

It's true. Don't second guess a thing.

The reality of impossibility

I had a dream last night that we were running. Running from lies and war and heartache and failure. I woke up this morning suffocated by truth and an internal war and heartache and the fear of failure.

I've taken ill in the reality of impossibility. Back to bed...we'll stay together... stay running...in my sleep.

Off the grid

The first punch hits the hardest but after that it all rolls from the tips of my thumbs. Such a steady drum. Like the sound of a heart beating against pavement while hands find home in silver bracelets. The echo of footsteps bouncing off alley walls. I tap. The screen is smooth but my words are rough. Jagged and unclean like a lost kid's razor. We stay chasing a runaway sun, taking us home to nowhere. Savior.

Going back home

These cigarettes smoke too quick and I'm gasping for a lack of oxygen like a fish flopping next to it's bowl. This autumn breeze is cutting me in half, but I don't mind.

It's smell of the dying leaves that remind me of you, and those watercolor sunsets setting on our backs. The baseball dugouts of our youth are desolate and all but forgotten by my childish heart. These reminiscent tears will not fall from the crevices of my eyes though.

It's when my nose starts to turn pink, and my fingers ache between the last few puffs of smoke, your face reemerges from the depths of my memories. Young and cheerful, mixed with uncertainty.

It's when my legs grow tired of walking, and I can feel my toes freezing inside of wet shoes. I remember sitting beside you, on a curb or a swing, with nothing to do.

And when people ask where I grew up, I say the heights, but what they don't know is I grew in the reflections of your hazed eyes.

Color me blind

Your words spill out like concrete coins. Jackpot. And I'm eagerly swallowing them whole. Like little paperweights grounding me to the present. Your honeycomb eyes burn money signs into the sun. Relentless. The stars shine the brightest in the day, and the moon smiles behind the trees. To you, goodbye is not just an idea but a lifestyle. Falling by the wayside, my stomach aches with the weight of your words smooth like jazz and thick like caramel. Incessant. My heart doesn't beat as fast as my lungs collapse and my mouth spits venom. Rifling through cluttered boxes in the back of my mind, your smile swoops in like a butterfly in May. But these memories are just rusted words now with neon lights half burnt out. The vacancy sign flashes a "NO" in front and the thought of you drives right by. And you, you speed off into a dust storm sunset. Tangling the tears of the last love in your windblown hair. Directionless.

Until we get home

I'm blacking the windows out for the last time. Laying on my bed in the middle of the yard, this house doesn't feel like home anymore. I've emptied it out in hopes of finding the solace that used to lurk. Hovering over a wine stained carpet, I feel lost. My feet stay planted while my heart is long gone and my head is in the storm clouds. The clouds that turn day into night. The kind that make every desolate moment resurface. She's working late and I'm working on my composure. My mind is running amok with thoughts to tough to think. Thoughts even tougher to evacuate. This house is not a home. Just a place to play house. This house creaks with the cries that were muffled, the wind blows through the cracks with thoughts that could only escape in soft sighs. These bones shake when you come close. Hold me anyway, just until I open my eyes. Just until we get home.