friendship

My Other

Could I dream without seeing you here?
Think, without placing you near.
Live in ways that don’t think of your spirit
Stand in the wind, without hearing you in it.
Could I sing any song and not feel you inside?
I can open my heart, my soul, and my mind

My body laid bare for skin to collide –
No regret for the shape my lips cannot hide
I could fuck what’s on offer and not give a damn
Stand upright tall, proud bold as I am
Take off my pleasure in flesh with another
But my hearts always yours, my souls other.

IW

 

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Price Tags

I know you see me, on the other side of our oblivion.
Curiosity knows no bounds, and though we put ourselves aside to walk another day without sight, we still wish to know.

Inside the dark, under the covers of your eyes I shift passed your view and you push my image aside answering to the voices you hear full well.
But those ones in your head? Like mine? The sounding echo off the wall between your spirit and mine, that never needed to be built except for preservation of sanity.

Tell me my dear, are you sane now?
Are you content? I know you are. I understand this sanity as one day passes to the next, as normality drives you mad.
It is what you wanted isn’t it?

Isn’t it?
To be content. To be sane. To be somehow normal and live a normal life.

To be happy.

Are you happy without answering to my voice? Does your heart race as fast as your despair consumes you? Does confusion darken your horizon as deeply as epiphany emblazons your truth? Does passion swell inside your soul as it does inside your garments? Is your sword held at the ready as tightly as your will and lack thereof is held at guard?

The choices we make do not always come with the price tag attached.

IW

Splay

Sing me your demons
Let them tear me away
From cloth wrapped on ankles
As trembling I play on that stairway to heaven
On these streets cobbled grey

Sing me desires
Let them tear from my heart
From the places you shelter
As illusions in part, let them stay
On these working street days

Bring me your demons
Let our minds fingers splay
From the places we hide in
As wayward’s still dancing
As requiems play.                        ~IW~