wooling willow

twice in a row I found myself
waist deep in sadness
fabric wrapped around my temples

in a swamp
green sheets of madness.
breathing but
my lungs are not having it.

gauze holds
your scrape
the mark of a person
who has been hit with there fate.

I kept trying to tell you
i kept trying to TELL YOU that day:

gauze is placed
it is put. there. for. you.
it will not take away
the pain.
that is blood
that is blood

yes we see. we see it everyday
gauze conceals us -just
for moments in the day

are you wounded?!?!
NO,i am just covering up my-lines,thanks.

are you angry?
NO,I'm just always this color of grey.

Marked by all of this,and a little of that:
you are holding my wrist now
for the v e r y last time.

I am holding your
attention
in seg-me-nts

And he is standing there
on a stupid cloud
in a ship that has yet to float
mumbling 
he is
sp i t t i n g it out
looking straight down


I just want you to know 
I could feel your heart's heaviness
each time we kissed



(I don't even react to this
I barley even flinch)

I just bite my upper then bottom lip

And my spirit is rolling her eyes
screaming to him:

what is a kiss?


I have left your hometown
thousands of times before
in fact and in your mind.

When you told her I was haunting you
did you mean that as a compliment?

Remember when we were too young to tell-what our words would one day grow?
oh the seeds that we planted,oh how I wish they wouldn't of survived that winter...despite all that snow.

we were reaping and sowing 
you were
plo-tt-ing 
& with our blind little eyes 
we poisoned the soil.

What about that time we kept pointing out
the-obvious?

With your coat on from England
you were saying your speech
of the call to:
farewells
goodbye songs
a pirates life
the vagabond kind

And I was just holdin on 
crying like a baby. a new born. baby.
oh how silly my eyes must of looked
leaking all over your moon shaped buttons


I have never held someones soul so tightly
in the form of a coat

And when I pulled away it was only because
I knew you were leaving.
It was only because
my aura was weeping.


out of all my memories
yours is the one that continues
to leave me.

this is beyond a postcard
this is beyond an explanation
this is what was and what is and what will be

why do we make ourselves into
entities?
why do we gauze over our heart strings?

what is a wound?
without healing
in the cards.