posted December 13, 2013 08:43 PM            

as your cells shed and reform like snake skin

if this is true, in 7 years will my nerves forget your touch?

Or will my doctor tell me on my annual check-up,

that you were a disorder, and I was not attending therapy.

I steal lighters from the quick stop down the street,

pretending that I have cancer sticks underneath my pillow

waiting for me at home. but what the woman behind the register

doesn’t know is that I lie in bed every night, flicking butane

to try and figure out how a flame can die so quickly, right

before my eyes.

They won’t put it in the news when i wake up

from this nightmare. Families won’t sit in front of the television

in coffee stained nightgowns, wiping the sleep from their eyes

It’s a miracle, they say, how lungs can rid themselves

of tar in 15 years, and glow bright pink like bubblegum spit balls

but when my heart is a pin cushion of needles and thread

posted January 05, 2014 08:18 PM            

Intense, focused. A profound experience-- specific and wide, lost yet found in an eternal pin-point. Layers of depth and time.

Your Heart is Real. YOU are Real. And I celebrate you are not a pinned and pieced rag, but exquisitely alone and alive.

Thank you for your 'experience'-thing...

posted January 06, 2014 07:58 AM            

Thank you for sharing.

- Chris