swirl of anonymity

a line that always comes to my mind.

All the bridges in the world won't save you.

posted by swirl of anonymity @ 1:15 PM 3 comments

waiting for the hint of a spark.

this is no longer our secret. it is
the pebble caught under our skins,
the scar tissues just thickening,
the rusted nails that dug too deep
and left their marks irrevocably.

i want to hold your hands and tell you
'love, you've taught me what love is;
and love, it is you.' but love, all that i can do
is take your hands and show you the most
delicate parts of myself:
the soft lips and the flimsy wrists
i guard to myself most of my days
but now ask that you not touch this place
with the fire of your hands
and your skin's hot wax.

i want to lace my fingers into yours
and say, 'love,
you've showed me what it is to love
and it is to love only you,'
but love, all that i can do
is tell you i don't need you anymore today
than i did yesterday, and anymore
than i ever will. you cradled the weight
of my words in your arms
for far too long and then you dropped them
heavily, clumsily at my feet.

apologies mean too much to me.

this is no mercy prize,
no purple heart is pinned
in glory to your chest.
you look up at me
with fear in your eyes
and a strange gratitude,
and i haven't figured out why yet

posted by swirl of anonymity @ 6:25 PM 1 comments

I built this house with concrete stone,
mortar and brick,
steel veins and glass eyes,
and planks of wood the color of flesh.

I built this house with callused hands,
aging bones and the ache of joints
that throbbed into me a will, or a need
to continue to build in spite of myself.

I built this house with blood and sweat,
ash, branches, and rotten leaves.
Into the cracks of the floor I poured
great, horrific pools of ink
that separated and formed again
to shapes like letters that told their own stories
in words I've yet to decipher.

posted by swirl of anonymity @ 2:45 PM 2 comments

one thing i hate.

sitting in a smokey room not drunk enough
to be numb to the punch i feel in my gut
when one of my friends says,
"do you know what it is to love someone so much it hurts?"
and mine is the only face
in a crowd of faces
that does not nod in agreement.

posted by swirl of anonymity @ 8:28 PM 1 comments

on aimlessly driving in new brunswick

the road does not stretch far enough
and if it does, i do not want to know.
i resist the something in me
that's pushing me out, outward to some vague east
or south. i do not know.
i never can drive far enough
and if i do, not far enough to escape
the thing that's pulling me back
to the center,
home, a place that i leave
over and over, now and again,
in hopes that my leaving will somehow
make you miss me, even a little,
but you never do, and i never really leave,
and the distance can never
undo how stupid and close to you i feel.

posted by swirl of anonymity @ 8:17 PM 1 comments