come inShe is a rain-soakedcome in1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
neon sign at eight o’clock
on a Thursday night.
Her light is too cold,
pipes twisted, full of fluid,
I’m open, she says.
The door is always open
Isn’t that what I’m here for?
Isn’t that my job?
Hollow, dim, dull,
there’s not much else she can do.
Come in here, she says.
At 1AM on
a Sunday, she’s still open.
UnallowedI'm flattered but the emotion is getting to me.Unallowed6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You speak, but I can no longer listen
To anything you're sayingbetween crossed fingers
and eyes gazing down. I don't believe you.
I'm sorry but the pain is becoming too much.
Now we are something bigger than the two of us,
Holding on to the instability while trying to stand--
Partaking in what can only be insanity.
Stop there. You're getting too close.
You know it's not fair. Suddenly I'm slipping,
With your arms conveniently open,
Whispering to me if I get too scared.
In the darkness, I see your eyes.
Constantly loomingalways watching.
Each step has to be carefully laid
For traps have been set near the places I stand.
Please go. You've outlived your welcome in my forgiveness.
Basking in a worn out tenderness--
It was never yours to begin with.
May your next words be Goodbye or I don't want to hear it.
Excuses. Again, I am hearing.
Tired of leaning on what little hope I manage
To grow. Leave now. Your presence is s