Broken Pieces

I think of you like yesterday,

(ElifKarakoc)

a smile on your face.

An array of broken pieces

all but dappled shades of gray.

I think of you as everything.

Deception that was chance.

The thought of what we used to be.

Fading error, trip and dance.

I think of us as nothing,

just the stories that we told.

The passion of a summer's morn.

Open water, flakes of gold.

I ponder.  Pensive.  Carefully,

a thought I should forget.

The heavy rest of midnights past

a glimpse I should regret.

For tightly tangled, hidden now.

Leather boots, my thoughts, this kiss.

The comfort of an autumn day.

So much I must dismiss.

Fought and Forgot

I listen to Eminem, sometimes.  My headphones on, the volume up, my angst and anger cringing in the face of pop's greatest claim.  But that's not why.

I listen for the blonde crew cut.  For the baggy jeaned white wife beater of a culture not my own.  For the thrill of memories I'll never have except scrawled in this poem.  And with you.

For those times we parked and fought or didn't fight and I forgot.  For the words that say you better then I ever could.  For the ones that are actually good.  For Stan.  Haunting obsession and dysfunction.

Do you listen to Dido, thinking of me?

For regretting your past, for you.  My present, with you.  A future without.  Not dreaming I'd end up with  some commercialized beats on a mix disc of songs we could both appreciate.  For Cleaning Out the Closet.  Our one common conquer of communication.  For the times that disagreement and you lips on mine were a confused passion.  A plethora of emotion, of action.  And of painfully knowing I could never like Eminem.

Because he reminds me of you.

I Hate the Fact

I hate the way he whispers

(AvrilkaTff)

in your hair when I'm around.
I hate the way you close the door
And pretend there's not a sound.
I hate the way you giggle
like you're happy, 'cause you're not
I hate the way I tell myself
I won't give this a thought.

I hate that this is temporary,
everything will change.
I hate the way you look at me,
you think that I'm insane.
I hate his twisted eyebrows
and his soft but piercing stare.
I hate that you convince yourself
you make a perfect pair.

I knew you as a child,
yes, I knew you better then.
Getting to know you better, now,
is something I intend.
It's hard, though, when he holds you close,
and knows I know the truth.
It's hard, though, when you hold his hand
and won't accept the proof.

I've made my own mistakes, you know.
I'm not one to pretend.
I'd take my own advice, you know,
if I could do it all again.
I've learned a few hard lessons,
guess they shaped me as I grew.
I think about it now,
the same will happen to you.

I hate him for the way I know
he'll let you down one night.
I hate there's nothing I can do
to help you learn to fight.
I hate the fact I care to much,
I just can't help you see.
But I know you're just becoming
the beautiful woman to be.

---

Hello to any awesome new followers, and welcome!  Don't worry, I only rarely inflict my "poems" upon you all.

Foreign Flavour

(Jahblessme)

I think I think I like you
'Cause I really think you're cute
You're sweet but you are edgy
Like you're trying to improve

You smile, hold the door,
but in every conversation
I'm really very certain
you swear without realization

You're genuinely thoughtful,
even when I know you're wasted
Like a new and foreign flavour
that I've never really tasted.

You wear death metal t-shirts.
Yeah, you seem a little shady,
but you really are exceptional
at helping out old ladies.

I think I think I like you,
and I know you think I'm hot.
So this may seem a little crazy...
I won't give us a shot.

I Wish Before

I wish a million things,

and none of them forever.

I wish a hundred pieces

(Baronialbees)

all of them brought together

I need this like tomorrow

so nothing is for sure

I'll beg it from the past
It all remains impure

Don't listen as I say this

I've told you all this finally

Perhaps we will reach silence

Release this now entirely

I wish a million distances.

I'll try to hold them close like this

I'll tell you what I want from you

You'll tell me it's all true

And then you'll let me go

The Notebook Chronicles

I once knew this girl

Now she wanders the world,

Against her I know my frustration is hurled.

Her bag is nigh empty

Her cares are nigh none,

She'll throw caution to the wind then take off at a run.

I think of her sometimes

When all else is slow,

The trigger is locked, set to signify, "go."

I remember her passion,

Her daring,

Her love.

She thought she'd win out when push came to shove.

I know that she's somewhere, somewhere out there.

At first I forget, then it's too much to bare.

And yet, she is still there

Deep in my mind.

We once were so close,

Like two of a kind.

I think she is gone now, our paths will not cross.

Unless I go out.  Get throughly lost.                                                                                                              

I'll grab hold of life,                                                                                                                  

Let my soul from inside.

I'll push this one down,

So it won't run and hide.

I know she is out there,

I'll find her one day.

I'll catch her,

And free her,

And then come what may!

Photo Source: In-dark on Deviant Art

I do not look like my Mother.
I don't act like her, talk like her or dream like her. 
I certainly don't live like her.
We don't share.  Anything.
In trying not to be like her the only thing I do is fight like her.
And this is a problem.
But don't tell me I look like my Mother.  I look like her sister, or any one of my Father's.
Just not her.