Rooftop romance, the birds say hello, but you’ve finished and the blanket rolled up tightly is falling down.
I’m wrapped inside myself… sitting.
Watching the sunrise come up, and time is wasted while I’m drowning in the tide pool of a love that could never be.




Picked up flower and thrown away vase,
too dry to suck the water, too thirsty to even breathe, but still living… the petals just wont rot away,
although it is I who is dying inside.




The womb that enclosed your heart, painted gold, pretty colors. A sunrise burst inside. Slit it down the middle. Let’s see something beautiful. Choking on the umbilical cord that your hands faltered with before they loosened.




Static on the shut off radio. Speak me something from a different world. Tell me I’m loved, and then hated. Shut off all other sounds. I want to hear something new. Let me listen to sunsets draw to a close; let me hear the sounds of flowers blooming. Just don’t wake the loneliness inside these torn veins… I’m not ready to cry… not yet.



And why did you have to go… Sunday mornings… they were ours, high flying, high talking…
Drunk.
Not on love, love.
But on… each other.




Smoke traced our shapes, and we dreamed up cloud names, and we sung raindrop melodies.
Senseless and we were high[less].



Show me the shape of the moon, and make it be a square. Could you do anything?
Tie my tongue, don’t let me speak.
I’ll crack. I’m breaking.
Slowly.
Not ready to cry yet… let me finish the words… this song hasn’t yet opened my heart.




Butter. Butter. Flutter Fly.





Choking now. On glass. I’ve swallowed you whole. The vase that drained my soul. That left my roots lying in a pitcher of guilt, and darkness.
Chew me up now… see what blood comes out.
I’ll show you now. I’ll show you. Show you.



Distance.



Breathe in the growth and fertilizer I need.
These veins have never been so unattached.
And I’ve never felt so free[d].



Loose thoughts.
Jumbled words.



Snip. Let me see the draining color that runs through your veins…
Are your insides not the red painting that we all portray inside?
Show me beauty… in its cheapest form.
Champagne… wine…
Heh.
You were merely a beer.




Cut me now with your roughness… oh so powerful. You.
I’m bleeding already.
Flower enclosed in the center.
Let me bloom.
I’m screaming.



Thirsting.



Cut up insides.
Heavy.
What’s gotten the best of you?
I spit you out this time.
With all the red painting I’ve got to offer.
You need some for your collection dear, I’m afraid you’re looking a bit thin.



Fat.


Shut up.
I’ve seen you whole.
You’ve seen me half.



Push you off the roof, where the love bloomed.
Where the rooftop flower grew.
Where the love sprung, sprang… is springing.
Dear…
You’ve mastered hello's.



Why this goodbye on a Sunday?



Why these cut out shapes that resemble the blood soaked heart…
Of yours… but also of mine?



Can you bite me and chew me off a piece.
A sense-making piece of time.
Because I’m thirsting.



Wrapped myself in a blanket. Tied myself with the umbilical cord.
Watching the birds fly over…
Flying over the pretty flower…
With the veins detached… with the exploded heart.
With the cut up insides.



With a love… never forgotten.
A distance never conquered.
A fall never established.



Butter. Butter. Flutter Fly.



Loose thoughts.
Jumbled words.



Snip.Snap.





Just another picked flower.
In a closed world.

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