A Hundred Times

It happened so quickly. Pressed against the wall, your hands locking me down, all I saw was a blur. I could hear you take short, sharp intakes of breath while I dared not even blink. Your eyes burned into my bowed head and I fidgeted till you quietened me the only way you knew how. You leaned in until every inch of me acknowledged your presence. When I finally looked up to meet your gaze, you slipped your hands into my hair, softly stroking them and I died for the hundredth time. You didn't stop there though, oh and how I hoped and wished you wouldn't, and you didn't. Your lips nudged and teased my earlobe, traveled down to my neck, licked the entire length of it with a slow and deliberate trawl and you stopped right then letting your lips rest on my nape, while you let me catch my breath for a moment. Your eyes shut tight, you had your lips pressed hard against my skin, waiting as I made up my mind for the hundreth time but only this time this wasn't a dream. And it was with that realization that I sank to the floor, but you stayed there, watching me bite my lips in confusion. What happened next, I won't ever understand, but there I was on the stone, cold floor with the man I had hopelessly given my heart to a hundred times over, disappearing into the glowing dust that danced in the faint afternoon light.

And there I was waking up from a dream I've just about escaped from a hundred times and more.

The Dreaming Shows Good Things.

Love is the little dry leaf

Inside your desk

Where a folded tissue accompanies

Other motley assortments

That you possess.

You've creeped into my morning dreams. Is this a sign? I'll let that pass for now.

- I've decided to leave the door ajar. You could be entering or leaving, as long as we're moving onward, forward. Yes? Because only now do I see some faint distinction between love and relationships. Some misconstrued conversations and several nights later, I've decided to leave the door ajar, so you could do with me as you please. Because only now do I see that I'm in love, not for the first time, no, but there's something here I would like to watch transpire. Strange morning dreams indicate happiness if I'm reading them right. And you, you knowitall God of all things, you I shall worship from my own brittle pedestal of steel. Because only now do I see the truth in your words. The truth that I see falling from the evening skies outside our home. This is meant to be.

Why not, right?

Hungry days and Horny Nights

I see you

Perched precariously

On a little gargoyle

Seamlessly floating

Against the blue blue wind.

If you were a canvas, I'd paint you foreverblue and throw in some fevicol for effect.

I see you

Hourglass in hand

Eyes shut to the dreaming

Drowning

In the blackness that is your soul.

And a single flame burns, while I wait, night after crimson night, songs falling from a listless heart.

I see you

Flailing body, swaying

To a rainy beat

Pitter patter

Your feet tremble.

Aren't we lucky you have a magic wand that goes pop?

I see you

Peeping in from the other end

Of your skewed pair

Of looking glasses

Pensive and brown

And I pretend to not watch when you're dying in your box.

Dazed and Lonely.

I feel like I'm walking through doors all the time. In and out. Doors heavily ornate some, others plain and simple with a little doorbell that goes ding! All of them open and close to little pockets in my mind, where I find little peace and a lot of doubts. Flaring up to the slightest indication of loss, holding on to tattered pages of history that almost everyone's so happily forgotten, how dare they. I'm not supposed to pee on you and make you mine, no? Territorial rights can be sketchy sometimes and I haven't yet learnt to handle them with adequate grace and dignity. Sharing a bed helps. Memories of vague intercepted mail, don't.

And the weariness of my addled mind just adds to the aging cage that is the body, making it difficult to breathe in this thick, knotted atmosphere. There's nowhere to go but huddle in the corner of a borrowed room and let the dreams fill you up till you forget you're dreaming, and then some. Mottled ropes of twine I feel like, about to collapse without warning, straining against the mouldy wall for support, sighing dramatically, till I'm sufficiently depressed enough to be happy. Oh I'm a keeper, yessuh.

My psycho heart etc. etc.

Our scars match, visible or not. Physical reality's as overrated as any other pseudo interests we may have. And we forget where our loyalties lie. We forget so soon.

i.

A broken piece of a song walks inside of you

And it's made a secret place for itself

Hazy sorrow and quiet longing

You're filled with autumn leaves and glass beads

That flow away with the winter rain.

ii.

She lies uncoiled, awaiting luck

And other fickle friends

A dark night flooding red

She embraces, with an unpoised charm

That ruined many a heart.

He's quiet for the most part

Indulgent to a point

But not reckless like you'd want men to be

And there's that little painsizedhole

That she's always trying to not see

But watches wearily anyway.

And she's downed a far too many

Not knowing what to say

Green bottles stacked against the wall

The paint's peeling off her face

But she's only thinking of his gentle ways.

And he knows what she's remembering

The halfdreamhalfreal vision from past morning

Cos he reads her like she's the God's book

Every line on her face that she's so desperate to hide

He reads her like she's the book divine.

But there's only so much to tell

Before ghosts reappear and seize everything back

She needs an obsession new

And he's far too tired to pursue.

So before he could make a plausible excuse

She takes the knife and plows it through.

And redstainedcarpets are a bother enough

Without a body to haul and a heart to rip off

So he quietly picks himself up

Takes not a single image to remember

And walks himself out with a cat in tow.

iii.

And any other night we'd all be asleep

Dreaming of hippie littered beaches

And black shiny rainbows from hell.

But tonight's something else, oh yes

We're giving the world a skip

And hitching a ride to the moon

Where the stars are just a little brighter

And our souls far behind in the dustbins.

Holiday it is not....

Desks and lights,
Casts and mice,
Musical delights,
Christmas!

Inscribed skin
All in a bin
The devil and my sin
Disappear.

Motley Crue and Dr. Dre
Make haste while it's day
A wide and cutely dimpled face
I dream.


"Thouroughly and utterly bored. That should explain this piece of nonsense. =D

Merry Christmas Everyone..."

Breathing Now

Like the sun that radiates innocence at dawn

Like the purity of fresh, unabated pain

Like the first steps to an unconditional faith

Like the roads that take you home

You.

A dress with a tear that only you can see

A mistletoe waiting for a new, wet kiss

A broken kaliedoscope - unused

A bird that's forgotten to sing

This world that's trying to breathe.

And I fear I've forgotten to dream

The mist strays too low

And I can see you holding your hand out

Way too far

And I said I'd never compromise

I misjudged

And I wished for a happy ending

When I flung myself over a steel rail.

But now I'm flying

Would you like to fly with me?

Dreaming On

I wish I lived in a trailer
With pretty yellow curtains
And a clean silver sink.
With a bunk bed of two levels
And a radio right next to it.

I would park it on a low lying hill
And when I peer out of my window
I'll see a tiny pond
With ducks, bullfrogs and blue lotuses.

I would travel all day through muddy, matted roads
To see the forests and the frost.
At night, I'll come back to my little hill
To wait for you to drop in.

It'll be like playing "house" like we did -
When we were young.
You can be Daddy and I'll be Ma.
Or you could be the Prince
Courting the Princess
Rescuing the damsel in distress. =)

Sigh.
I wish I lived in a trailer
I'd paint it green and yellow
And I'd fly it to the moon and back
And I'd take you with me as well.