My heart frightens me...

My heart frightens me...the way it wants...the way it craves; the way it encompasses all and how it slaves to be sated. Its perpetual voracity and endless capacity to beat in time and stop on a dime.

Its ceaseless yearning to consume is startling.  Its gluttonous appetite is always starving.  Pangs and aches carving through its chambers with surprising rapidity.

It harbors a sacred silence that only desire can know and abhors its deafening cries that denial provokes.

It's a living breathing thing.  It takes up space in my bed.  It gets in the way of my every day. It breathes and sighs.  It swoons and cries.  It fucks with my head.

My heart frightens me...Fuck it, I should just stab it with a fork.

Nothing's there...

As I lay dreaming thoughts of you are streaming in a cloud like smoke. Unprovoked my mind wanders down the length of you and back again.  

Drinking your lips and inhaling your breath.  You make erect the hairs on my neck when your mouth nears my ear.

Whispering promises brings hope.  On a slippery slope we tread lightly hands clasped around noose and rope with our lips locked tightly.

I search my memory for your grin.  I can't wait for this to end and for us to begin.  Writhing around in my bed with your name on my lips I sniff the air for the scent of your skin but nothing's there.

I am...

I am the ground that bears your weight,
and the sun around the world rotates.

I am rivers on which heavy loads float,
and the flames that ash the letters you wrote.

I am air in your lungs that breath makes,
and the sky that yields thunderous quakes.

I am the food on your plate. You can eat me, 
and the lover in your bed come complete me.

I'm the bone that needs picking, your fingers that need licking, 
and that god awful clock in your head that keeps ticking.

I'm not complicated. Just frustrated,
and too honest to be anything but alone.

I am home.

There's a woman you know...

There's a woman. You know her.  She's a woman you know.

She's spent her life sweeping up her own wreckage.  You know her.

You remember her face.  Even when it's hard to place.  

It's in your head more often than you'd like. Invading your space.

She's a woman you know.

She is nothing. She moves through walls.  You've seen her.

Rain soaked clothes she makes thunder when she calls. You've seen her.

Broken glass and bloody tattered rags at her feet.

She can't seem to find her way home. You know...the woman you know.

You've seen her.

She stands before you naked and unsheltered.  Still nobody helps her.

Lost she's surrounded by miles and miles of flares...nobody cares.

Do you put your arms around her? 

Or can you live without her and with yourself when you walk way and say...

I don't know her.