I wonder if my words came out right
if your heard me in the night
feeling for your warmth
would you know it?
well I couldn’t sleep
tripping out in the woods
and laying on rocks
but the sound of you breathing made me breath deeper
and sometimes I’d follow yours
then slow them down to silence
so you can’t hear me anymore
I move away to a more acceptable position
fitting into the hard background
I can’t feel you but
your still there
still somewhere else
like every other girl
some sort of vision
a dream I’m still remembering
and an unmade decision to isolate myself
if I can’t have what’s before me
that’s wanted so badly
then shouldn’t I search inside?
accept life and death and pain
like a Buddhist poet
except I assess what gain can I take standing in the rain alone?
or in some dank dark place where my is soul sitting stoned
trying to make my life a work of art
but I think it is a tragedy
because I see things so black and white
like the ocean and sky
not wrong or right
but a void of ominous entities and omens
a place that I could make well with my poems
sing without worry for pitch
just the thick vibrations underneath us
a thin blanket
my feet bitten and legs leaning nearer
looking down so small
I can’t see your face
but its clearer what I want and its me
that holds back
a hesitation, one moment
or many hours
that I
never realizing the power of a glance
looked around for opportunities
and left them all for chance