Spoken Thoughts

Woman In the Red Dress

I’ve been thinking about you,

Waiting for you to come home,

In hopes of my remembrance..

And the things we did that night.


I adored your composition.

From your delicate long red hair,

To your pretty freckles and captivating smile,

With a deep and intuitive stare;

The way you laughed it reminded me of self,

Not only could you listen but you could also hear.


As a companion, I made space for you to be here

But times have changed

And I can sense you’re no longer near

With a lackluster of closure you’ll always be here

It was 6 months of absence..

Now I remember one of my greatest fears


Forgotten Stars

I’ve changed the locks on this mental door,

You’ve come home late far too many times

With another word deprived of truth

And again, with lack of proof.

I’m another human being just like you are;

Is this the harm you intend to cause?

Worse than physical pain, like a metal stake

Through the heart,

I’ve suffered enough from eternal mental heartbreak.

Taken away from my delusional state of happiness,

Images of you crumble

As the stars burst

And the ashes of our speckled stardust dissipates,

At last we separate

Then remember who we once were,

Forgotten stars on paths the rubble creates.




You asked 3 times already,

Stop prying for answers you don’t really care to hear

Coming up with questions like,

“Where’d you meet this one or that one,”

Knowing on these topics I’m vague with answers,

Specifying neither here nor there,

Stuck on this and that

Providing conditional love while

Killing the flower’s vibes with all of the above,

Just to satisfy your urge to go tit for tat

Like it’s your way or no way

The typical buckeye; toxic and inedible,

The first time I realized some people are intangible.


Different Directions

I find myself constantly thinking about love

Knowing I’m not looking nor am I available for it,

It’s always running across my mind

And there it goes again;

Lap forty five.

My common trial and error

And never a true commodity.

The first was the beginning of the trilogy,

The second repeated the first ending in another tragedy,

While the third gave me signs that it would never work;

She also never gave me any feelings of pain,

This was the closest to God’s prodigy.

We would butt heads when she thought emotionally

And I countered, thinking logically. Silly me.

The best of her had it’s worst,

As I looked passed that because of how good

She looked in that purple purse

With the silver chain on it because she denied gold,

And that had nothing to do with it, for what it’s worth..

Her past denied her access to

What should’ve been a quenchable thirst

And because of that, in our silence,

There her squeezing questions would lurk,

In the dark under the lights

Where my answers lacked substance,

There came one then two and maybe four questions

Oozing mental lust.

My true thoughts had been buried beneath dirt,

I learned from each part.. so no longer

Would pain travel through these arteries

Attached to this heart..