thirst

heavy with the burden of ghosts
it drips, the false comfort of warm blankets
when dreamed that might as well be arms
and wake up to stinging eyes shoved shut
from the driving will of my heart.
to the sink where i pour myself out
when tears could as well be black
because you swear to recall it
like it came out with shadows.
i stress and press hard my conceptual self
on every girl who ever spoke out
and kept making grains of my heart finer and finer
so now when the wind is strong enough
you’ll see my scouring streets or knelt over
picking up little pieces for days, even weeks.

i heard of a boy who had his heart ground so small
that a time he sneezed without a “bless you” from her
a very atom of his heart’s split, and set himself ablaze.
but then again I hear of a boy who met a girl
where two “I love you”s brought forth a happily ever after.
It is obvious why passion is heat and heat is passion
that from the breaking up of a glass heart will eventually generate sand
and with it, with passion as is heat can be melded
into maybe a more beautiful creation than it did start.

so we wait, when we’re together in pairs or alone
and we keep waiting for things to happen
changes that we’d like to see and we wait for things to never change.
and alone we wait and a minute very quickly
can become an hour to which a year is just around the corner
there is something in waiting with someone
even if you’re waiting for them
you could very well be waiting with them while waiting for them
that i find unbelievably pretty.
holding their hand in the doctor’s office
or counting out how many good things are coming their way
before they come their way, or sit and speak of every constellation and star
match it with each ambition and love them.
why do i ache when i sleep with every fear sitting on my chest.
i used to wake or never sleep just to share the same hours.
and now if i could choose, i would not wake
in hopes to have a dream as lovely as you’ve always been.

*I had a smoke this morning. It tasted so good. I drink more and more everyday, to weigh away it all. I wrote this for positivity. I wrote it for shattered hearts and battle scars. I thirst for beers, for a soul at rest, for permanent romantic and chemical intoxication.

~ by Valentine Ink on June 11, 2008.