|armed and recycled|
Stop loving and start thinkingShe was practical.Stop loving and start thinking by TheStoyTeller
A complex algorithm,
set in her patterns and equations.
She was framed in powerful numerical
overtures, filled in with alphabetical
components and partners.
She needed a mathematician.
One who could figure her out.
solve her, and leave her undone.
Not a poet,
not one who would ponder how
she contained the ocean in her eyes,
not one who would wonder
and awe at the symmetry in her movements.
She needed a confident,
a brain, not a heart,
SandjamI am still caught up in yesterday;s blindsSandjam by TheStoyTeller
cobwebbed in the dust of your eyelashes
looking for an iris
and sticking to your blankets
like sage sticks to soot ridden walls.
the halls of your house were catacombs,
and my footsteps were music
to the skeletons in your closet.
they danced around your tomb of clothes
and misleading endeavors.
you miss me, in there,
but I will not dig you up again.
Indigoyour denim stuck to old cd'sIndigo by TheStoyTeller
and mix-tapes that you found
under the bed of threadbare marriages.
you knew you would live the world,
see ocean's that would take you home
smell the air perfumed with the skies breath
but you would not love.
not darkly as the ones before you did.
you kept that denim to yourself.
you listened to the walls
in the loneliness of your room
and unafraid of solitude.
punching mirrors, punching yourself,the wheels on the bike that I got you for Christmaspunching mirrors, punching yourself, by TheStoyTeller
shook hands forever with the blacktop.
if you told me you were a rocket,
I'd have believed you,
looking into the stellar gold of the skies,
sleeping nights at airports just waiting.
and when I got that letter
that was really meant for the moon,
I knew some day we would have to die.
but until then I bathed myself in concrete,
so you could find me because you're always looking down
and no I'm not a penny,
but I have your backpack that you hung on the limbs
of dead knees and trees, and noose craned necks.
no, you're not a killer and I believed you,
you were just a bully and you ran away
I bet you were just tired of beating yourself up