Oh I am the Fool

I don’t need encournagement from you.

That is something I could use little of.

You sway me with your words.

You fool me with your touch.

Please don’t act

Please don’t talk

Please don’t say

You love me.

It is ruthless the way you play with my heart.

I am no mouse, this is no game.

I see few ways out but of course I will stay.

I will stay because –

because.

Blinded

Why must you break my heart Can you not see that you own it I think of you in the shrinkage of the tide I love you in the waking of the sun Why must god be cruel A third time, no less To send me a fool One i have fallen in love with It hurts not to think of you But for my sanity i must But in small moments Rare unstealable moments I allow myself your happy Foolish oblivious happy

Perfect

It really isn’t fair to me For you to be so perfect It really isnt nice For you to be so kind It does nothing but hurt me When you look at me, so perfect Lets face facts You will never be mine

Im far from perfect This much you know I have doubts I have fear I love to run at the mouth

But oh, my dear You make me feel so perfct Please stop Dont stop No good can come about

Regrettable

I think of you more than I aught. I blush at the images I conjure. A princess, trapped in a tower is how I feel. Helpless, lost, completely without the power. Escaping is impossible in this fragile cell, so I think. You and your skin, the bittersweet taste, a memory that mocks. Deft hands I focus on ignorant of my threadbare chains. Fingers that feel, no felt. I rely on these thoughts to pass the days to pass the hours never noticing the thoughts are a lovely heated trapping themselves. But, ensarled I am. I shouldnt remain but memories mock.

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Transition

The difference between now and then is really too much for a rant

it feels as if I have forgotten how to type

how to move

how to write.

Today is a day in which I have suddenly

suprisingly

found my way back.

I am not sure it will last

no, quite confused about this all

but I feel this need

this bursting and as always I must answer it’s call.

Rusty I am and tired I’ll be

This feeling inside of me shan’t cease based on these.

So on I go, nothing to stop me this time.

Just myself, and my heart.

Like always

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Validation

So I feel perfect

Need that be a crime?

to feel something I know I’m not.

To get through the day in this unlikely way.

Do I punish myself just for that?

After Death

All I can do is type, type away with my thoughts tumbling in poems I call them

Poet I call myself No one believes that of me No one feels the lyrics as I do Who reads these poems and says in their heart “Yes that feeling I’ve felt, these words are so true” No one And to my grave I will go Writing poetry unannounced Writing poetry with no form no grace Just the words in my head bouncing off the echoing walls.

Space, falling.

Osmosis

There are things to say but I must not.

Must hold my tongue

because I forgot

that to open my mouth

and speak my thoughts

brings all kinds of trouble

when I can hush

and close my eyes

clear my head

as transparent as a bubble.

Unforgiving

My poetry has rusted away

like

a shiny spring on a door that no one passes through much,

anymore.