I see the sparkling little diamond on your hand It's plain to see that you've already got a man I can see you're not about to fall for any of my lines I see the want to in your eyes
Deep in your smile there's a quiet, soft desire Like the embers of a once raging fire You know I could light that fire again, you know it isn't wise I see the want to in your eyes
How strong's a band of gold Is it strong enough to hold, when a love has grown cold and A woman wants a love, sweet and warm How many women just like you have silent schemes. How many men like me do they sleep with in their dreams You can stay or you can go and although I sympathize I still see the want to in your eyes I see the want to in your eyes
sitting idol. all this time that has passed. so much change. in the seasons. the weather. my wardrobe.
i sit now in a room. once a two bedroom. now one. alone. it doesn't fell inhabited. haunted it is . with memories vibrant with the apparition. of the past
they all make me feel new. i want to reach beyond this. you know that i could use somebody like you to take this off the top scrap the surface show some skin someone like you.
childish games disguise the smiles. under adult eyes they lie. like snakes in the grass. time make things different. change makes it last. i hope that i can use somebody. like you.
today. i took a moment to myself. to lay in the grass and look into the sky. above me was the most vivid blue ive ever seen. and the clouds roared a blinding white. the ground underneath me smelled of weather and change. with all the chaos and uncertainty that has been my life as of late. it is good to know that one thing stays constant and true. the sky.
here. its been silent. same as the wind. rustling. pens and paper, and glances are all that spoken.
its obvious. this tension between the two.
its spreads over the bed. covers the floor like a rug. you can find it lost in couch cushions. tucked away in the back of the fridge. left like dust on the sill.
yet. i sleep better than i thought i would. better than before. solid and sound. i lie alone and to myself. memory foam mimicking my misery. my dreams are nothing different in the daylight. i find it just as easily to manipulate real life.
all this energy and emotion. him, constantly wiping his heart on his sleeve.
and i, ambivalent and ambitious. my optimism and naivety over shadowing the inevitable.
i grasp on. lingering in the purgatory. drawn gray in the homage.
all this time. 1,000 days 26,000 hours 1 million minutes between us.
and yet i cant seem to hold onto one second of this.
According to the Kinsey Report Ev'ry average man you know Much prefers his love-y dove-y to court When the temperature is lo And the weather is sizzling hot, Mister pants for romance is not
i woke up a 6 am screaming at him about nothing he went to sleep on the couch and i did i did a sink load of dishes. fell back asleep.
fucking aunt flow. shes evil. and she makes me say the most hateful things. five minutes later. the world is so beautiful it brings me to tears.
i have a giant bruise on my enter thigh. from a viscous bicycle debockle involving me. the deli. and Jägermeister and of course. i lost my keys.
its 1000 degrees in this city. my henna is fading. my vinyl is melting. and i almost positive i saw Arthur Ashe wiping his brow.
my house is infested with mosquitoes. and im wearing OFF indoors. which is miserable. i smell like summer camp. and im scratching like a meth head. im positive i have west nile.
and apparently we are having tilapia for dinner. im not that hungry. but im a glutton for punishment. so ill eat that fish. and my feet will swell. and ill just go on swatting and sweating.
-new;and you know consequently a little stiff i was careful of her and(having
thoroughly oiled the universal joint tested my gas felt of her radiator made sure her springs were O.
K.)i went right to it flooded-the-carburetor cranked her
up,slipped the clutch(and then somehow got into reverse she kicked what the hell)next minute i was back in neutral tried and
again slo-wly;bare,ly nudg. ing(my
lev-er Right- oh and her gears being in A 1 shape passed from low through second-in-to-high like greasedlightning)just as we turned the corner of Divinity
avenue i touched the accelerator and give
her the juice,good
(it
was the first ride and believe i we was happy to see how nice she acted right up to the last minute coming back down by the Public Gardens i slammed on
the internalexpanding & externalcontracting brakes Bothatonce and
i dont mean to be an piece of shit. but okay. alright. we get it. he's not Kennedy. he's not Obama. he's not Martin Luther King. he didnt have a dream. he didnt change the world. he's was a Jackson. 1 outta 5.
sometimes i wonder where our heads are at these days. all of this shit on our tv is propaganda., to distract us from the destruction at hand. all the devastation around the world.
so much real shit. REAL SHIT. so many other memorials we could be watching on tv right now. so many other things i could be writing about right now.
all this news. all this coverage. all this distraction. all this glitz and glamor and tribute. we are still alive. we are still dieing. everywhere. in real time. not just on the radio.
take this shit a put it on a 50,000 foot plasma at the Staples Center.
