i turn into a flippin' mess when you're around
i got all these feeling i don't know how to let out

i'm just feelin' a little mixed up right now
about us together getting out on the road

i said that you could come travel with me this summer
and i WILL hold true to my words

but i wish there were something i knew of
that could make everything stirring inside

just, subside.

i feel a slow slip
begining to start

i try holding together stitches
but it's bound to break apart

somewhere,
                    a low small hurt
                                                got inside my heart

if poetry is words spoken aloud
what poetry then describes your silent steps
moving toward me through the crowd ?
what can i say about the wind
wisping hair in your face
tempo of movement
style and grace
i'll be now (for this one second)
who i really am
you make me a poet
and my heart is yours to claim
don't stay away too long
for my breathe gets shallow and weak
the picture of you smiling on my phone
sends currents of joy and laughter through me
so, keep your freedom as long as you must
but please look on me kindly
for my poet's heart can only take so much

words can pass away
as all living must die
i believe in possibilities and you and i
i hope you'll see me true
know it's there safe and hidden
kept only for you
with each pen stroke
every breath driven
from depths of my heart's throat
all love letters unwritten

She said, "They use to call me busy-body, now I'm just a no-body,"
as I stroll up, headphones to unplug, to sit and wait for buses of school children to come up.
Feeling kind of broke of a sort that wont shut down, inside I'm meaning, reeling for home unfound.
Prospecting, working, commish here and there, "case management" on my case breathing till no air.
Looking and ardently searching for something that's not there, a plain jane job, to just give room for air.
Plans on paper, sound right in my head, but seem less and less practical in practice of what's read.

"Help? Daddy has a headache and sickness with no want to help baby,"
as she fashions a meal from play food in a play kitchen to make me feel better.
But I wont sit at her table, I wont play with her dolls, not today, when I've got the world at my *****,
biting and stabbing me in the back of my brain,
no, now I'll just put on a movie and try and sleep for a change.

"I love you's" are exchanged as I cover my head,
and the ultimate weight that is me lies in my bed.
Troubled, down, pierced by the bad negative points of life,
I'll rise later again looking for a "re-set" button to make alright,
while she sets the table with guests to an imaginary meal
cooked to perfection in hopes to change the way Daddy feels.

words read
as they trickle off page
and paint you a scene from
a memory, all but lost to time.

its April
the rain falls
you're not here at all
i feel like running away
finding a sunnier day

then i get a call from you
my grey skies they all turn to blue

put the phone to your heart
wrap my arms around your guitar
I'm just learning at love
i can't play it too hard