My Words...

Like a thirst

quenched by

a potion

intoxicating smiling eyes
that sometimes drop a tear

Do you really like them?

Do you really get them?

Or have you plucked out a few pretty words

Flowing syllables,

 like a sparkly dress on a rack

And said “I think this would look good on a Saturday night, with my hair down…”

Some would think…”well, hey, that’s kinda cool”

But no

It’s not

Look away
 that would be fine by me

or

Feel them like your heart is your only sense of touch

See them like your soul is your only sense of sight

And then carry it all with you

So it wakes you in the deepest part of night

Because what’s inside

What I’ve smeared on this screen

Is pretty

Is ugly

Is a hot fucking cold mess of everything I’ve known

With colors and shades

more permanent than markers could ever scar a page

It’s a recipe of a disastrous life

That I sometimes thank God for out loud

It’s the shadow of a nervous tree

That you can barely see

Because you were too busy

Staring at the streetlights

Creating diamonds out of rain

All across your window

This may not be the kind of rhythm

Heels could click to in a club

But if you listen

If you really listen…

Dance will have a whole new meaning

It will make you stop to chase that uncaught breath

It will knock the wind out of you

Make you fall for so long

That you’ll beg to hit the ground

Just to know and feel its end…

But you won’t really want to know.

~Trish