Private #1

If I were to write
As though no one would ever read these scratches in the sand,
If I am to envision my parched pages swirling around abandoned streets
Once everyone who could've digested them
Has long since disintegrated,
What new truths would burst unafraid from my pen?
I've had a rough morning and I want to spill my guts to you.
Not sure you care to listen.
I want to cry my tired eyes out on your warm, tan shoulder.
I want your arms to brace me against the world.
I can't see the future from here
But right now you make me feel alive,
And somewhere in the past you were mine.
Of course
I do hate being wrong;
Failure is exhausting,
But hope can kill you.
And even though you wouldn't want to read this,
You'd like it if you did.
This is misery
Destiny
Exploding poetry
A simple change of scenery.
I want you to know me,
And to smile with me
About how laughter is sometimes magic
(Especially at the wrong times).
And to burn with me
To dream with me
And believe with me
That love can be a wild eyed soul stirring journey into eternity.

(May 26-05)