At this point I take a moment to play the guitar and have a conversation, musically. In classic Blues’ call and response fashion:
“Hi, is this seat taken?”
And that’s where it all began..
I’ll take a sharp breath when you split from me.
I think graciously about moments that were, inescapable;
a monochrome filter seems to rust the reel of my life. “With or without you,” the inevitable diagnosis which materializes into border-line crazy.
I find shattered bits splintered generously across a tender canvas,
neighboring the web of blank spaces that accentuate my innocence;
like a weapon misinterpreted, it’s far worse than self inflictive.
I found you between the hustle of a dream, that’s been beaten relentlessly,
and the greasy cookie cutter of society’s mold.
A charred scar that pulsates at every wince,
while its deep impression remembers your starry gaze.
Every color runs from the backdrop like dripping paint.
That tear inside, aches as it fills me to the brim, blurry eyed.
When all that remains is numb, I’ll understand; it’s when the heart and head are disconnected, I’ll learn. “Always,” was a word fit for a king.
“Someday,” is fit for a prince. Flipping through your hair like chapters from a book, gripping my back like tenderloins on a hook,
stripping away inhibitions, the truth is naked in your look.
If true music is based off feel, as opposed to technicality,
then I’m playing so deep in the pocket that my Soul can cook. Never mind that.
“Can we just, not talk.” See, I believe in war, I believe in beauty;
you’re actualizing me, the way that just being, emanates a stronger presence in me.
So I’m feeling like feathers now, my stomach free falling, weightless,
the rhythm in my centerpiece catches speed, breath escaping me;
I’m dead-center, cracked and now split like a rorschach.
I draw no analytics – suppose I’m far from an architect,
but the blueprint of your smile will inspire me past senile and my dirty cats.
Bridging the gap from a far cry and an outspoken desire;
I’ve never spoken words so distant, yet so near:
Fuck emotions – I’ll dissect every increment of anchored bliss’ as I replay our sentimental songs to death, because motivation renders me sleepless.
I drag my feet with worry, dreading the shuteye and mornings of void.
Locking arms like revolvers clashing, your arsenal is military grade and was never lacking. I conclude intimacy and include tentatively..that connection.
That encouraging smile and suggestive brush of wit,
infective past the poison due its part.
I dangle from the hinges while you softly cheek my enemy’s fringes.
Words are inadequate so I deliver this in Song.
Each unintentional habit you coyly withdraw, and I’m.. dare I say it, falling, madly.
“So sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”
“Have we met before?”
“Hmm..I don’t believe so.”