The Calendar Hung Itself

Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning when you start to raise your head?
And does he sing to you incessantly from the space between your bed and wall?
Does he walk around all day at school with his feet inside your shoes?
Looking down every few steps to pretend he walks with you.

Oh does he know that place below your neck that is your favourite to be touched,
and does he cry through broken sentences that I love you far too much?
Does he lay awake listening to your breath?
Worried you smoke too many cigarettes.

Is he coughing now, on a bathroom floor?
For every speck of tile there's a thousand more,
you won’t ever see.
but you must hold inside yourself eternally.

Well I drug your ghost across the country and we plotted out my death.
In every city, memories would whisper, "Here is where you rest."
I was determined in Chicago but I dug my teeth into my knees,
and I settled for a telephone and sang into your machine.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

And I kissed a girl with a broken jaw that her father gave to her.
She had eyes bright enough to burn me. They reminded me of yours.
And In a story told she was a little girl in a red-rouge, sun-bruised field
and there were rows of ripe tomatoes where a secret was concealed.

And it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands.
And it stretched for centuries to a diary entry’s end
where I wrote,
You make me happy
oh when skies are gray.
You make me happy oh when skies are gray, and gray, and gray.

Well the clock’s heart it hangs inside its open chest
with its hands stretched towards the calendar hanging itself
but I will not weep for those dying days.
For all the ones who've left there's a few that stayed.
And they found me here and pulled me from the grass where I was laid.

I've been waiting for you.

What does it take to keep you in my room?

We'll trade touch for touch and you'll feel my heart.

I hear you coming down the steps.

Part the sea.

You should know that I do love minimalism. You should also know that I play with language like a child plays with food.

Parrelisms and allusions are my favourite.

Take note.

But can't you see it??

You were exactly like the ones you scoff at.


Don't make me have to be explicit.

As I expire.

I don't see this going anywhere.

Tied up at the dock. The waves deceive us by simulating movement. We are rocking back and forth but we are not gaining any distance.

In love with the idea, but paralyzed by the reality.

I lost my mind, but I know where to find all the pieces.

I found my heart, and I know where to hide the keys.

There are still two around my neck.

I've got a total crush on you, baby.

http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/profile?id=467475

Copy and Paste Poetry.

I was born with a knack for explanations.

A story. A legend. Let's give them something to write about.

You'll know who she is by the mark on her chest, in the shape of a letter that was too proud to form a word.

Was it all for show or tell?
Self- referential until the world knows my name.

Exfoliate. Slough off the dead. I take it all with a grain of salt, and now I'm begging for water.

Sealed tight.

Goodnight, it's time to go home.