Survivor

The tide pulled me in. I couldn't help it. I didn't know. I was asleep when it happened. It was not my intention to awaken upon your shore.
But here I am.
I'm afraid I couldn't tell you how I got here. I think I was on a ship, once, that possibly wrecked. It's been so long ago I don't remember.
My, if feels strange to walk again! For days and weeks - and maybe months - I wished for dry land, to stop moving....
I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but will you hug me? It's been so long, you see, since there was anyone else. Just me and the wreckage.
This is your island, isn't it? If it's not I'll need to see who's in charge. I don't want to intrude on paradise. Is this paradise? I truly hope so. I dreamed of that place once. A place that is beautiful. Is it beautiful here? I really can't tell because it's bobbing like I was in the water and it's making me dizzy...
I'll just go if I'm bothering you, if I'm in the way. I didn't mean to take up so much of your time, it's just.... It's great to see you. I love you for being a person that's alive. Hands, eyes, face, lungs, heart - it all moves. Thanks for being here. Thanks for being alive. Can I follow you to where ever you're going? I would hate to be alone again...
I promise I'll be quiet as long as I can watch you breathe...

From Behind

Sometimes the sound
the siren-in-my-brain makes
is too much for my ears.

It always trills
when I get too close,
and let someone beautiful
touch me.

"Good morning,
My Love.
What did you wish for?"

The words echo in my head.

Somehow the siren-in-my-brain
evades my recollection,
leaving memories more spectacular
from behind.

Even Possible

In our desperate search
to find each other,
we cling to what
reality, what
connection
we can find.
It is a lonely world
that eats our hope;
a frozen world
that destroys our senses.

I am afraid,
it cannot be saved....

Wrapped in darkness
we reach for each other,
we whisper our names.
I want to hold your hand,
just to prove that
you are here
and that I can feel you.
The velvet covering
on my eyes
has been sewn shut -
but I smell you;
I still feel your warmth nearby.

Or is it a dream?
Is this even possible?

Runaway

It was always a great
rushing
of bodies and time.

It was an
automated voice -
no comfort
on a crying day.

It was words on a
screen
when I needed
your touch.




I was running away
and no one could tell.

Sometimes I wonder
what is wrong with me.
I seem to be grasping
who I am and
what I need and
I don't understand
where all these answers
come from.

The quiet and the noise
hold equal evils
and I'm at a loss
as to where I escape.

Yet I have ironed out the
wrinkles in my smile,
and I see a radiance
in the colors of the day.

Life,
is insane.
And so am I.

Beautiful.

The House

It was a silent house. Old. Abandoned. It might be said that it was once beautiful. I think it still is. But why I stopped that day, I'm still not sure. I was driving by. Just.... driving. Plenty of time. It struck me once again how beautiful the house is - so big and old and spacious.
So I pulled over. Just like that.
I pulled over and went inside. It was dusty and dirty and forgotten, inside, but we felt like old friends. I am still convinced that house has a name.
A name that's been forgotten.
What a terrible thing. To have lost your name.... We greived together.
The wooden shutters whispered and told me to go upstairs. Up all the stairs. You see, secretly, there is a fourth floor. The fourth floor is a single room. That one room contained the only object in the entire house. I slowly opened the door and stepped inside. So much dust! So much silence!
But in the very middle of the room, there stood a music stand. A solitary music stand. It had gotten very lonely over the years, guarding its music. But it couldn't play for me so I went back downstairs, out the front door, and began to drive away.
We are still trying to remember its name...

Little Kiss

I watch it blossom
-- I wonder... --
with a smile on my face.

I want to touch you,
in a place
no one can see.
I want to reach
inside
and leave my mark
on your heart.

Not a painful mark,
like the scars you
already
have
from shattering.

But perhaps a
little
kiss.

Yes.

A
little
kiss,
- just from me -
that you carry with you
all the
time.

Questions For You

Hey.
I have some questions for you.



Had you thought it through,
that night?
Did you know what you were
doing
when you said that?
Were you aware of what you were
taking
from me?
Were you hoping to acheive
what you accomplished?

Why can I never
look back
on that night the same way
twice?

Why do I still
fail
to comprehend what
really
happened?

How is it,
that I
cannot recall the
look
in
your
eyes?



Hey.
I have some questions for you.

But don't bother
answering.

And I Cried

Sometimes
things don't go as planned.
And occasionally
the result is not as
ugly
as you first assumed
it would be.
The mistake turned out
quite beautiful:
like tangled hair
in the summer,
when driving too fast
with the windows rolled down.

It made things simpler.
Like the time
I forgot to smile back at you
and you asked me what was wrong.

And I
cried.

In Motion

It was crisp like winter air,
it was beautiful like rain.
It was that moment
I realized....

I swelled and rose to the challenge,
like the sea before the face of a storm.
I was angry and powerful.
I was hurt.

It was enslaving and freeing,
like falling from the sky;
when - once in motion -
I can't be stopped.