Broken Heart

How do you fix a broken heart?
Booze?
A really good high?
Give me some pineapple express so I can smile.

I'm dying inside,
Nothing can mend it.
You left me to rot.

Five years,
I thought by coincidence everything aligned.
There are many meant for you,
The time just has to be right.

I guess it's still not.
Even though you made me think.
It hurt to be stood up.
Waiting still.

Chromatic

Drifting through sideways,

Never stable,

Never sure where it ends.

Eyes tire at sight of day,

Hearts weigh with every second,

Life is viewed in chromatic grey.

Pressure

What eyes see,

Can’t see what needs to be.

Dripping and tapping on eaves,

You’re not welcome.

Don’t say my name, 

Don’t follow me out.

Leave,

You’re not welcome.

Grabbing and surrounding,

I cannot escape. 

Go to peace,

You’re not welcome.

Strokes

Flesh flickers on surface,

Soft strokes,

Sweet cool and warm tones,

Captured to a tether,

Salt tones envelope.

Burn so sweetly to canvas.

A finished painting.

Dust

There is something so cold in our actions now.

We act like nothing has changed,

But inside I’m dying.

I care far too much far too fast,

And I was never something you thought would last. 

You talk to her more than me now,

We were so close,

I felt safe,

I could tell you anything.

Now I can barely look at you,

She tells you anything.

I was nothing but a fling.

You are everything I’ve ever wanted,

A gentle soul,

Thoughts about the world overflow from your lips,

A really bad kiss.

Sweet touches let me know you care,

When you smile the whole world lights up for you,

I look constantly for a glimpse 

I will wait out storms,

Even if you don't care,

I will be here till the end of this.

Ask me to follow,

I would follow until the Earth was nothing but dust beneath us.

If only you wanted me to.

Shots

Slipping down your throat,
Twisting down the pipe.
Thoughts blur like mud,
Intentions go to hell.
Pour some more.

Shoot the line,
I don't have a room.
Can I go home with you?

Dirt

Dirt makes you feel clean.

Don't touch it,

It will make you sick,

Bugs writhe underneath the surface

It will steal from you.

You're better than it,

Scrub it from your silky white fur.

But sinking your toes in it,

The intoxicating smell,

A wild rush of instinct.

There is something so natural in being a little dirty.

Spines and Columns

What do you do when all the columns come crashing down around you?

They don’t topple over and lie there next to you,

Not in a mutual agony.

They fade away like a mirage, 

Having never been there at all. 

There is only one column you need to hold the weight and agony of this world back,

Your twisted muscles and spine,

A column with unshakable will.

Your will has gotten you through everything,

The doubts you trust to others is simply thrown back,

You ask the questions you know the answers to.

You know the answers,

All the columns are fakes,

A spine with twisting muscle is all you need,

You are all you need in this life.