The Colors in my Morning Drink

Frequent coffee headaches
and kisses goodbye
grow safety blankets
out of hair.
Simple colors for simple dreams
become hard to discern
when combinations don't blend
like we wanted.
Water always mixes with my vibrant hues
and they run away
(so fast)
only their ghosts are left behind;
the pastel colors of dried up tears.

Mirror Images

I saw a man outside in his yard
mowing dirt.
The grass that was once lush
had grown thin and fallen
out of his head,
like a jigsaw without its corner pieces:
not quite finished
and still fragile to the touch.
I thought I would break.
(Perhaps another time.)
My eyes were swollen shut
and I fell into an oblivion
which used to be my bed.
There was no notice,
(nor descent)
no universe, no laws
and Emily was there.

One Day

Your fingernails grow long,
as does your hair,
you have become a man.
And soon you will leave me
teetering on the brink of insanity,
and my nails, short and ragged,
will wait to run through your hair once more.

Save Tonight

Sleepy eyes,
amber haze,
distorted senses.
First place doesn't mean victory
because i never finished what i started.

I drew your face
on an Etch A Sketch,
one line, two lips
your hand guided me
as i wrote your name
with a syringe full of air.

And you looked down upon me
with your beautiful eyes,
and your beautiful hair,
and your beautiful jaw,

(still and slightly broken)

as it rested on my shoulder.

As for you,
my badly drawn boy,
with your sideways movies,
you tend to create such
beautiful
oil paintings in the sky.