Posts Tagged ‘Stories’

Caught between lovers,

cat fights, heartbreak.

Caught in that grey area

where clarity comes

naturally, and wisdom flows

out like ink from a pen.

And it shifts, revolves.

The position is temporary.

Every friend is a middle man,

listening to stories- and nodding,

giving advice- not knowing

what is the wholly right thing to say,

opening and reading the pages

of their companion’s autobiography.

At the same time,

opening mouths wide

to flash white teeth in ecstasy,

cradling themselves

in the corner of a room

while listening to sad music,

and

writing their own stories.

Here’s my problem with people ‘reading’ people: People aren’t concepts. They aren’t finished books- they’re stories that are constantly being edited.

My white heart is gaining stains

and beginning to stink like garbage.

 

If you would have taken it,

it would have bloomed like a rose,

 

it wouldn’t become unsightly.

But, my dear, you’re not a good liar.

 

Truths bleed through the phone,

and I piece them together.

 

A half-truth is, after all,

a whole, stinking lie.

 

I’m wearing black now.

You’re wearing red

 

and consorting with a Union Jack.

You’re alive.

 

Where am I?

Not in your eyes. Not on your mind.