Tuesday, March 13, 2012

rich Rich poor Rich


Though affluent with her love
I felt hollowed out and muggy
Her love around me
Rising up in me
Dense
And cloudy
Like a haunting in my chest
Like a memory with a scratch in it that won't stop skipping
The same line over and over again.
Like a mint that was made of razors
Like an orgasm made of possiblies
Like a sweetness born of acid rain
Like a smile born of apathy

Like tears made of gravel
Like sadness made of honey
Like a maybe made of definitely
Like a definitely made of never
Like the love we made together
Like the sex we never had
Like the sex we made together
Like the love we never had
Like the pot you smoked that I didn't
Like the fear I inhaled that you hadn't
Like an insecurity built in Roman times
Like a seasonal laughter's end
Like a fire carved in yesterday
Like a bitterness carved in stone
These memories are my albatross
These memories haunt me endlessly
And they won't leave me alone.

-RTB
History is full of examples of people who didn't discover their real creative abilities until they discovered the media in which they thought best. - Sir Ken Robinson