this is one of those
I wish you could love me
more so,I wish I was older.
(a shoulder open to different aspects & case folders)
I keep falling for women half the age of my mother
a few years shy of my brother
whether this is trouble or not
is yet to be told.
its hurt a lot so far
as everything does.
so these thoughts bring me back to her
the subject of so many words I've strewn before.
so many miles to roam
why do I have to get heart broken in person every time though...
do I just know,
or do I make it be so?
(monologues are optional as we share smoke)
these positive manifestations get me confused & under sweet womens clothes
snuggled up in their homes,where they feed me...
keep me warm.
which is all Ive ever wanted...but their never the one...
I want them so desperatly to be...
but they dont have HER pharamones
(& Im as close to crazy as I can clone)
so if I dont show up soon
GOD knows who will
or who has...
WHICH IS WHY IM BACK AT IT AGAIN...
falling in love with those words you read...
why these wiser thoughts appear in my head
& our transcribed by my fingers
so I can keep it to myself until I can get a pen in that hand
or a little rubber on the cement
a few miles further from the desert...where I hear mirages play tricks on lesser heads
my eyes are wide open
& I AM A MOTHERFUCKING GENTLEMAN...
God Damn the life of a Poet.
the life Ive finally learned to accept
its easier then
...but what isn't...and what is it about this life that dosent make me fear death?
is it that I am the walking dead...
who some how stumbled into heaven
without a thought in his head...
that cold january morning as I ran naked down dirt roads outside of orlando convinced I was dead...to only come back to camp to watch you
(and again,these poems are as abstract as the thoughts in my head)