Untitled 2.2.2010

I want to see what is inside of you;
The meats and organs that breath as your flesh.
I want to hold your heart, beating and red.
1, 2, 3, 4... 1, 2, 3, 4... It beats away, this heart.
I want to kiss your veins, your arteries;
The highways of life passing through unnoticed.
I want to listen to your brain,
As it chimes away with unspoken thoughts.

I want to see what has never been seen.
I want to touch what has never been touched.
I want to know... I want to know you.
The real you. The self you hide from the world.

I want to see what is inside of you;
The putrid and rank pieces.
I want to feel your bones clanking.
Their strength carried through your limbs.
I want to suck out your breath;
Sweet and fragrant air of your lungs.
I want to pick out your eyes;
Swooning with the sight of your reality.

I want to see what has never been seen.
I want to touch what has never been touched.
I want to know... I want to know you.
The real you. The self you hide from the world.
I want you, all of you.

Rose colored cheeks.
Eyes the brown of earth.
I want to see what is inside of you.
Let me in...

The pen touches paper.

Too much consumed. I have to let it out. Pull it out. Spill it out, onto paper. Words and letters jumbled together. Streams of verse pouring from my pen. I live in my head? No, I live on paper. Streaming, flowing, growing. Everyday, all day, typing it out in my head. This life is my novel and I'm writing it well. A best seller etched on everyone's faces. My eyes tell the story my mouth never will. Listen closely and they'll tell you the tale. ~9Time via 2008

I wish this was still true. I feel lost in world devoid of creativity. It seems like years since I spent the day by myself writing out verse for no one to hear. I think it's time to quit reality for a while...

Road Time

Tomorrow I will be setting off on an adventure of sorts. I'll be going on a trip down south to visit some old friends. Aud will be having her biggest art show to date and after that I'll be in Hollywood to finish out the weekend.

I need time away from this city. It's been months since I've ventured further than Deltona. Time spent at home isn't even enough anymore. I just need to escape. Here's to hoping this weekend can do just that!

This is a poem I wrote last time I headed down south. It always makes me long for somewhere else not quite here.

Loud noises coming from small mouths,
Memories carried by winds headed south.
Unexpected moments caught in tiny glass jars.
Friends made in run down old bars.
Time's running late and hope is fading,
But these small tokens keep me waiting.
For brighter light and shining thoughts,
Bringing back that for which I've fought.