Out · of · the · Blue

there’s nothing more infuriating
than a pencil drawing lines
that are unfair.
they go up and down,
spin round and round,
even though the formula
to make sense of them
exists,
in your mind.

they bopped up and down,
your legs.
they moved in time
with the synchronic movement
of us crossing
boundaries.

i love your hands
and your memory
each time i think of how
they caressed eternity

they drew pretty pictures
on my stomach and they brushed
against my lips,
your soft fingertips.

but you lost track of the map
you designed on my back.

and besides the fact that i
cannot see,
whatever it is you wrote down there for me,
i do not read maps,
i’m unable to.

especially when you draw a line there,
that is just so unfair.
so, so, so, so, so, so
unfair.

eviltweeter © 2009

My emotions are tied
Into a black velvet knot around my neck
And every time I get close to you
They heave.

Sometime ago you chose one flower
Among all those laid out in front of you
You smelled it and you made your choice.
You stroked the petals with your voice,
When you spoke.

I wear your love like a crown of thorns
on my head.
It’s just what's left,
Of what I used to be.

The only thing missing now,
Is the leash you hold me on.
Your pull is still,
Still,
Far too strong.

I cannot breathe,
I cannot breathe!

eviltweeter © 2009

This is going to be short because,
Who gave you the right to stare anyway?
To invade personal space on a multidimensional scale
Is so easy, but you forget
That staring is, basically,
the equivalent of
sex.

Because, when you stare, your eyes just peak in
And use three letter words,
You don’t know
How uncomfortable that makes me,
Basically.
So before you stand up and walk around the room
To give me myself back,
Could you please just close your eyes,
And give me your hand,
Instead?

eviltweeter © 2009