WordTapestry

Clockwork Like clockwork,  I dance on my toes for you, the Crown  to my foolish Jester, and I let the sweetness of  your praise sting my  throat as it goes down. Each time, it  hurts a little bit more to swallow my pride and lower my brow, but like clockwork, I can't stop for fear  of a frown, so until  I one day find my  heart's design, I will remain your little mime.

Autumn I like autumn for  its fallen leaves, yet I can't help but think that it's  a little strange  how we find beauty in dying things. 

Thinking of You Even on good days, when I look up at the evening sky with all its  scattered, violet hues, like a lost child, my mind will always wander back to you, and all the things  we didn't do. 

Earth to Houston  Houston, are you here with me? You nod, but your gaze is off, and then you are gone,  somewhere in a galaxy, far, far away.  Contrite, your chest heaves unsteadily and though your lungs  put up a fight, your heart has readily accepted that you are so slight,  you hardly amount to  a speck of dust in the starry night.  I know it seems that we are so very  small, but even small  things have a purpose to call their own.  Take the tiny cells that make up our bodies-- though they are not alive,  they let us thrive. Isn't it fascinating to think, that it takes an army of tiny undead creatures  just to get one of  our eyes to blink? Though it can get hard to  breathe as you sit tight  and try not to leave,  remember that you are here on earth, where you are tethered at birth to the land, to the mountains, and all the sand.  So take off your spacesuit  and let your hair down free, here o...

Runaway I used to believe in ghosts, but you,  my anomaly, have left no trace of yourself behind in my  worn-out memory.  Spirits are supposed to haunt yet I am  the only one on the chase, only to find you--dear  runaway--dare not  show your face. Is it me you fear? Is that why you are not here  nor anywhere beneath my lonely atmosphere?  But that doesn't explain why even in my dreams  you do not appear. I guess I have  always just known, that you would be the one who forgets to come home.  So if peace to you  means escaping me,  then so be it, my runaway,  go fly and be free. 

Crescendo Because you have led my heart astray, like an ancient ritual that I must obey,  the worshipper I am makes sure to pick you flowers every day because I have the funny idea that love is something to be repaid and I must  give something back to you for every time  and every way you  make my pulse  crescendo without delay.

Bubblegum I nibble on my tongue like it's a  piece of bubblegum as your eyes narrow and your words sharpen along.  Chew-chew-chew-pop! Except the pop never  comes, it dies silently in my throat--drowns in  the boat with all the  words you will  never know. One day,  just like all the  other days of times long ago, your fire will  thrum away. With a face  shrouded by smoke, you will say that it's okay, but I will  always taste blood in my mouth. 

The Actor Can't you see? The seats in the  auditorium are empty,  the cushions stone-cold and infested with mold. The lights overhead  are dimmed and flickering,  there are no stars dithering in the sky tonight--not  even the gods are  watching your plight.  So why are you here, standing stock-still on stage, glittery mask donned  and cloak draped on... Why are you still pretending  even when your audience has gone?

Cheap Thrills  You and your bubblegum lips and candy-apple  face make my head  numb and my pulse race.  Like a carnival,  you smother me in  your bright fuzzy embrace  and with a voice laced with syrupy-sweet grace,  you tell me everything will be okay.  Tickets and toys I buy for  you, and you repay me  with your sugar-high company. You're  lovely, it's true,  without you, I wouldn't  know what to do, but  something is still missing. Though I am breathless with ecstasy when  we are kissing,  I can't help but wonder if you are really  mine to hold or just  a prize that I was loaned. 

Passerby When you turned away, I let you go without  a "no", but I'd just like you to know that I don't think of you as a friend or a foe. You were just a kind passerby who happened to catch my twitchy smile  and heartbroken eyes  and all the messes I made  as I struggled to try. And I cared that you were there for me,  I still care even as you flip  your hair over your shoulder and walk to where I cannot follow.

Corner I like to hold my breath as I walk around  corners because the tiniest drop of hope  still clouds my veins. What I have is  a child's dream, really, that perhaps,  like an afterthought, you are only lingering in places unseen.  Maybe you are  not really gone,  you simply live beyond  my desperate reach,  squirreled away in a place where try as I might, I cannot breach. I know you  are not here anymore,  but I will still linger there before the corner, trying to pretend that you are standing  around the bend,  waiting patiently for me  to follow.

Rust I thought that I could soften  your hard edges, but I realized too  late that to dull  the knife you are, I would have to  bleed myself out all over the iron cage of  your heart, in the wavering hope that my love may one day  be enough to rust  over your  sharpness and free your soul in  all its softness. 

Things that Ache The woe that comes with stubbed toes. Papercuts on  soft fingertips and scratched up knees  from an afternoon spent climbing trees. Poked eyes, bitten  tongues, snapped bones, bruised elbows. Tick-bitten arms and long-forgotten burn scars.  My heart for you. 

 To Paint the Sky      They told us we could do anything when we grew up, and so I decided I wanted to paint the sky. It wasn't enough to simply be an artist. I wanted to create the grandest tapestry of all time. But how could I, being unable to fly? Our classmates laughed at me, our teacher smiled condescendingly, but you didn't. With serious eyes, you held my hand and told me we would be painters together. For days, we two dreamers would climb as high up in the trees as we could muster, trying to touch the clouds. But the sky was much too big to hold, and our hands were much too small. Finally, with tears in my eyes, I let my dream go, yet you still remained by my side. I thought you would scorn me for giving up. But you didn't.       As the years passed, our paths further converged. The same hues from art class staining our palms, our two pulses throbbed out a symphony that never quelled. We grew intertwined--two beings of one soul, of one...

Open Wound My mouth is an open  wound from which red  words leak as they escape from my heart, staining  my teeth and rolling down  my chin, and I live in fear of the day when my words will congeal around my lips  and seal my wound shut forever. 

Spirit Away When you  aren't looking I whisper our  secrets into  the wind and  pray the breeze will spirit them away to some  distant land where they will  never again be able to keep us  silent.

Sober Our time  together was a drunk haze of spinning lights  and sour breath. All you left me  in the end, is  a mess to clean  up in the middle of the night, a  growing sense of emptiness to fight, a pounding headache to nurse, and a plethora  of memories to curse,  'till the day when I will finally wake up sober from your love.