susceptible.

back. back. back.

how far can one go
before he has left
where he was
and entered a new world?

does every man
entering the realm
realize he wishes
that he belonged here?

does every clopclopclop
sound in his brain
long past the horse
leaves his sight?

does every simple fact
resonate, and resonate,
within all of his soul?

or is this one,
susceptible,
to wishing?

back. back. back.

game

i can play this game,
too, you know.
of whispers behind hands and
secret smiles.
i can giggle and even
sway my hips
like you.
and if you ask nicely
or say pretty please
i might even pose for a
picture or two.
but i can promise you
this
i'll never be as
fake
as you

woah

ow, to be missing a part of myself.
and not an important one,
but enough to hurt a lot.
and falling asleep was the wierdest thing
that i think i have ever known. wierd.

breath

empty, true
desolate, no
windswept, beaten down,
bent from the cold.
but bleak, no.
beautiful.
exposed maybe,
but barren, no.
latent, fruits hidden,
ability masked
frost baring the outline
of an endless world
infinite sight, from the
warm white breath.
skeletons, rising tall
branches dark, stark.
horizon reaching to the
cold, unfeeling sun.
lighting a solitary, hopeful, world

drowning

don't you understand?
i can't just not finish.
because then its my fault
because i took that breath
i saved myself
and because of that
it is my fault
because then when i don't finish
it's because of that breath
and i could have done it
had i not gone up for air
i could have done it
had i been dedicated enough
so i'm going to do it
no matter what it takes
because then it doesn't matter
that i didn't drown myself
or even if i do tonight
they can't blame me,
and that cursed breath of air

woah. i didn't know i could get this tired.

web

time just adds
extra complications.
hidden in unsaid words
and bitten lips.
knowing and waiting.
and watching the unaware.
time just weaves
it's web tighter and tighter
around you,
making it harder,
refusing to let you leave.
tying you down.
time just wastes
love and possibilities.
what could be is set off
postponed, and deferred
and you waste away
waiting for the inevitable.
time just leaves
its mark on everything you do
on everything and you.
days pass and you lose yourself
feel yourself slipping away
losing grip and all your best intentions
just time

therapist

what am i supposed to do with you?
yeah, i make a good therapist.
but i'm a person too.
just because you can't tell
doesn't mean it didn't happen.
so i get to deal with it, then.
is that all that comes of it?
i deal, and you keep on treating me as ever?
is that how it works?
hours on the phone because you're bored,
and i still care too much to say no?
yeah, you're a great friend to have,
but at what cost to me?
i don't think this'll last much longer.
actually, i know it won't.
only until i give in to the truth.