To get lost on a shelf.
A journey, couch potato tourist,
Book upon book, fantastical and fact
An expergefactor for the literary senses.

A sofa that swallows you whole
with an old fashioned friend,
stirring bourbon thoughts and
swirling orange twists

A wall of books,
novels and tomes.
Hemingway nestled next to Palahniuk.
Generational angst and
Alphabetical Chaos!

I think I’m having withdrawal
With HP now off-line
They say BRB and ASAP  
but it’s been an awfully long time

I’m anxious to get back to reading
To see what you all have to say
If it’s not back soon, gonna open some wine
Oh heck, I think I will, anyway!

your neck is concrete
where once it was limber;
but your hair was pulled once
too vigorously
and now all you can do is nod.

and it’s not that you forgot how to say
no.
it’s that you simply cannot say
no;
no, I don’t want to hook up with you
no, this isn’t giving me any pleasure
no, you treat me like a
sub-human fleshlight.

but you still go ahead with it;
a fantastical distraction.
but that’s all it ever is
in it’s many forms;
a distraction.

i called them
my life goggles -
drowning in thin air
unaware that i could
move volcanoes with my
mind.
minding my own business
being stuck in my own business
feeling
trapped
in my own business.
life goggles fogged over
clogging up
and blocking my tears from view.

The Builder


If it does not bite you at the end of each breath,
Then I will start again and again
And I will rewrite it, all over again.


Do it all again; pretend we are friends.
I never claimed to believe in anything ‘real’.
These lips are sealed to forever lovers.
I wish I had never gone undercover.


In my happy disguise, I find truth within eyes.
I fixate on the page, the place, the way
And someday I will find a place where I can truly say,
‘I love you’, and mean it;
But this is neither the time, nor the day.
I have dagger eyes upon me.
Always waiting for a new surprise.
They are hoping for a slip of the tongue;
Waiting for me to mention drugs,
Waiting with the desert dogs,
But I have nothing more to say,
About what I have, or have not done.


You pick your truth as I live in peace,
With decisions I have made.
I made no choice, for I have no choice.
Some might say I lead the way;
Some might say,
All things are already set in stone.
Rock steady is the path I walk along.


Destiny is self-assured,
For I have never found a cure,
To all the hurt in my own world,
So I will never reach a day,
Where I no longer need to build.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

words cut deep;
you were my anaesthesia.

then, you wore off;
i died under the knife.

Moist in there giving,
            but woeful are the
dewdrops that evaporate
                      clinging to verses.


Momentary metaphors dispersing
          before others acknowledgment
of there potential.
                    
But still clinging to dawns  perception.
                Reading  between every analogy,
That all that dehydrates can sew new seeds.