Written on:Tuesday, January 06, 2009
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I wrote this for a man I love.
he hasnt read it yet,I don't think he cares much.
I'll be forever adding little pieces to this,as the weeks and days pass..
i'm always inspired by different sensations..
its the neverending poem/ will probably turn out to be the longest piece i've ever written.
i'm scared to death,
when i realize the true colors of everything around me..
when i acknowledge the genuine skin of the walls surrounding me
when the smoke clears,
away is the fog
and my virgin ears bleed with the sound of reality
the real tint
the real taste
the real texture
when I realize i am not in an evergreen field of daisies somewhere
when the castles brick fades to an apartment building
urban streets,blacktop grease,graffiti scene
when the victorian gown melts to a pair of jeans and a dirty tank
when the death of your voice is only a click away
and the beauty of your existence holds in the palm of my hand
and your lips are somewhere deep within the caller ID
I am scared to death,
when I recognize the realism of a disintegrating cloud
when I finally comprehend the harm of a moving train
when the paint washes,
when the mirror cleans
and my baby eyes cry and blink
pupils,widen with the high of reality
the clarity
the science
I am a spiritualist
and a Scientist
Yes,there is a way.
But I am scared to death
when the floating shapes around me,colorful squares swaying,
and fuzzed out neon willow trees
focus into faces of millions of crowded people
walking in a city so gray
I am scared to death
my stomach turns and twists
about to spew up an olive colored mess
when I watch the promiscuous lips of vile lovers,two
entwine and kiss
without any conscience
arent they supposed to be "mature",wise,and ever in such ethic?
I am scared to death,
When I realize my current location
the polished wooden chair
the television speakers
soda bottles and take out boxes
when I speak to the minds around me
hollow and bare,rubbing off on my pure neck
after they serve food from a steaming microwave
when the meadow washes into a dry desert
vast,ironically cold and plane
I am scared to death,
when cowboy boots and hippie head bands
infect into designer pumps and prada hand bags
long brunette curls and bare feet in the country sand
bleed into shallow audiences,red carpet events and critical hairstyling men
I am scared to death,
when I realize the supposed facts that high pedestaled philosophers speak
as they burn into horseshit next to the masculine palomino sucking grain
when people say to live in the now,
but you tell me tomorrow is worth the embrace
and I cry to you that I cannot wait
when people say theres a god,and all he left us is a rule filled diary
or when churches are torn down so that fashion malls and runways can be made
I am scared to death,
when elegant violin screeches and screams, dwindle into raw rap slang
and ghetto beats
when Renaissance dragons of sparkling scales,
blood stained claws
and drooling fangs
become stepfathers
I am scared to death,
when playing on the couch with our casual cat
is soon followed by picking up our rifle and hunting hat
when tea is replaced with alcohol
and when promises are broken
I am scared to death
of actuality.
of non believers.
of technicalities.
I am scared to death of finding fairy bones
or unicorn spines that have decomposed
deep into the forest of mine,
and discovering there was never actually any of their kind.
When the weed grows
and the pink petals drop
when we water the weed
and neglect the rose beauty
I am scared to death
of knowing that i can not unbutton your pants
but i could unzip an attached file that you email me over
i am scared to death of
realizing you are so far away
emotionally,
physically,
in your perfect physique.
i am scared to death
of
crushed dreams,
fear of fear of fear because of fear.
love,and when you hate love
life and alittle bit of death
and of technical difficulties
because therefor,we would no longer be able to speak.
I am scared to death
of loving you,
but even more scared of not loving you.
what are you scared of?
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