(no subject)
"I Won't"
I don't want to swim this channel again,
don't want to bear the vibrant current.
The muddled reverb of a violent bird's call
always rings just outside of reach.
I won't go back for fear of heavy waters.
I won't go back for you.
The space is infinite in this box,
but I'm pressed against the floor
like the crime was made by me.
I'll let you have your fun, your way,
but I won't go back to feel depressed.
I won't go back to feel for you.
The car has lost its motor, drive,
dying like a smashed guitar.
Did you break me for the show?
The ash tray's full of girl's numbers,
but I won't go back on my word.
I won't go back on you.
My tightened grip could snap the pen,
but I'll writer another poem for you.
I'll send another cry for peace.
You'll never hear, never listening.
I won't go back to walk the streets,
and you won't come back to walk with me.
"Does It Scare You?"
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
I'd stake my claim on thirty girls,
but never find the time to be sincere
in the smiles that break like the sunset
as the day fades to dusk,
like burning bridges to dust
or numbing love for lust.
Does it scare you?
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
sound's off on the salutations
like a rifle blast I'll never hear
over the muttered apologies -
why question what I think?
I'm just a blown speaker -
a scream, a rattle, and I'm dead.
Does that scare you?
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
stretched marks for the memories
because they all reach on so long;
I'm fishing the ravine
for girls on beach towels
embroidered with their monograms,
eating up my heart,
and that scares me.
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
scratch at the chalk on the sidewalk
that bore our feet for a kiss,
selflessly, selfishly -
too intent to know the difference.
Spacing myself on the eight
was never such a heavy task,
and it's scaring me.
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
drive past the corner
where you told me you're gone,
on the way to another night,
with another girl,
another fight with the receiver
before it's slammed back to place.
This scares me.
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
it's amazing how your hand
can become a ghost in mine,
lose it's feeling, texture -
disappear to beach-sides and boys
with the sun passing over too quickly,
sinking too far away to catch.
That doesn't scare you.
But I do.
Poetryz. Enjoy.
I don't want to swim this channel again,
don't want to bear the vibrant current.
The muddled reverb of a violent bird's call
always rings just outside of reach.
I won't go back for fear of heavy waters.
I won't go back for you.
The space is infinite in this box,
but I'm pressed against the floor
like the crime was made by me.
I'll let you have your fun, your way,
but I won't go back to feel depressed.
I won't go back to feel for you.
The car has lost its motor, drive,
dying like a smashed guitar.
Did you break me for the show?
The ash tray's full of girl's numbers,
but I won't go back on my word.
I won't go back on you.
My tightened grip could snap the pen,
but I'll writer another poem for you.
I'll send another cry for peace.
You'll never hear, never listening.
I won't go back to walk the streets,
and you won't come back to walk with me.
"Does It Scare You?"
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
I'd stake my claim on thirty girls,
but never find the time to be sincere
in the smiles that break like the sunset
as the day fades to dusk,
like burning bridges to dust
or numbing love for lust.
Does it scare you?
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
sound's off on the salutations
like a rifle blast I'll never hear
over the muttered apologies -
why question what I think?
I'm just a blown speaker -
a scream, a rattle, and I'm dead.
Does that scare you?
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
stretched marks for the memories
because they all reach on so long;
I'm fishing the ravine
for girls on beach towels
embroidered with their monograms,
eating up my heart,
and that scares me.
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
scratch at the chalk on the sidewalk
that bore our feet for a kiss,
selflessly, selfishly -
too intent to know the difference.
Spacing myself on the eight
was never such a heavy task,
and it's scaring me.
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
drive past the corner
where you told me you're gone,
on the way to another night,
with another girl,
another fight with the receiver
before it's slammed back to place.
This scares me.
A careless mistake
breeds a careful injustice;
it's amazing how your hand
can become a ghost in mine,
lose it's feeling, texture -
disappear to beach-sides and boys
with the sun passing over too quickly,
sinking too far away to catch.
That doesn't scare you.
But I do.
Poetryz. Enjoy.