Really, Really

by shira

You asked me if you really stand
For everything the capital building falls for
Big metal belt buckles as a cover-up for what’s
Setting off the metal detector
Really bullets and gunshots instead of one man’s pocket

I told you that you leapt
Long ago, too young for you to remember now
Into a ravine filled with mountain spring water
Cause it says so on the bottle
I bought from the gas station
Where we sell what our boys are fighting for in Iraq

Really, now
Mother, listen to me
I read the papers
See the TV. screens outside of the electronics store

Really, now
Father, listen to me
I know it will all stop someday
As soon as the news is less popular

For You

by shira

I drive home from your house
From your bed
Into the one in my room
Away from your chest
To face words off of mine

You taught me all that my skin knows
And all that my feet
Cradled in your hands, made too soft for my pilgrimage
Have ever celebrated

You had me play what you play
And hurt where you do
Instead of handing me a sling
You tied me to a moving train
Knowing bleeding fingers are no substitute
For careful dust, and the end of the day

The games we made up
The lives that we saved
Were always overthrown
You
Pushed me
Onto your mattress
Shaking the sheets
As a smile made my mouth cave into yours more
This is just an explanation
Oh, I wouldn’t stop sending oceans into your veins

"The Words we didn't Choose."

Written by Kester Henrick

You didn't like the way it sounded, but it was exactly what I wanted to hear.
Because there's nothing I find more attractive than honesty and how cute we'd look in the same photo.
I dyed my hair blond so I would have a valid excuse for my past mistakes.
I hide each one behind every strand.
But because no one knows me better than you, you accepted my faults and put up with it while I was on my own.
You watched and waited for me to return home.
and I promised I'd come visit you, no matter what.
But I promised myself much more.
and so I'll peirce my lip and grow my hair out because you asked me to.
Right now our symmetry is the most valuable quality we share.
and you have no idea how much I missed and love you too.

Checkmate.

Written by Kester Henrick

Sadly you know me better than I know myself sometimes and although I’ve never lied to you before, I did today.
I have no explanation to the words I wrote.
No, you have never used me before. I just needed an excuse that didn’t start and end in “It’s your own fault she doesn’t talk to you anymore.”
And as I played this game day in and day out beating myself up over it, I never stopped to realize I became the jerk you described.
Checkmated and I’m sorry.
You’re one of the few people I can actually sit and talk to, believe it or not, and even though I was yet again waiting for you to make the first move, I missed you a lot.
But because I was just a pawn and not a bishop or a rook, I never proceeded down the board to find the truth instead of making up my own excuse.
Instead I sat back and waited it out.
My big mistake, and it almost cost me the game.
Checkmate.

"I Want to be Reborn."

Written by Kester Henrick

If what he said is true, then I was just another pawn you used to take the king.
And in a year from now you’ll claim you hate me too, I’m sure.
I did nothing wrong, I only cared too much, so if that’s the reasoning behind seclusion then I guess there’s nothing I can do.
And so I’ll dye my hair blond and keep my brown eyes because it’s the opposite of what you like.
I’ll return to who I was before I met you because I liked myself better back then.
I’m not your pawn.

Time is a Waste of Time.

Written by Kester Henrick

I want to build a time machine because I’m tired of caring.
My past mistakes state “Honesty” should be spelled “S-t-u-p-i-d." and you still don’t say Good-Night.

We had a Word for This, but it Died too.

Written by Kester Henrick

If I could go back in time, I would never tell you how I really felt.
Everything was so much easier when you would tell me I was cute and that you were all about me.
"But that's all in the past."
You said that.
Word for word.

I was way too honost.
I unlocked myself with truth.
I walked into hell.
and from that day on we had a clear perception of each other.
You liked what you saw but hated what you heard.
The real me.and the cold shoulder treatment works great.

Hermits are Actually Living Time Capsules

by Surreal as Sunlight

Sitting on the couch of my Aunt's flat
The telephone politely begged to be picked up

It was my uncle
More of grandfather in my life
He said "Come spend the day,
with me, I'll show you around Bombay

I can't walk very quickly anymore
but I haven't been out in a long time
Arthritis has jailed me here
But I promise you will enjoy"

And so my brother and I joined him and his wife
Little black and yellow taxis
Sputtered us to his favorite destinations
And sometimes I marveled at the archeitecture

He brought us to the world trade center
The place where the fun people go
In his day it was always hustle
But I think he finally noticed his wrinkles
When he saw that it was now a bust

He stood there
I could tell he felt stupid
For showing us a ghost town
A part of his past had gone bankrupt

He was gone so long
Buried in his pain of age
That when we finally dug him out
Time showed its presence

Both to him
and to us.

Sweet Mumtaz

by Surreal as Sunlight

Sha Sha, Sha Sha
Sha Sha, Sha Sha

She said ‘feel my undeniable love for you,
By your side
In this campaign
With me, and the rest of the land
In the palm of your hand

Sha Sha, Sha Sha
Sha Sha, Sha Sha

I don know we don’t have much time
We’ll never have enough,
time.

Sha Sha, Sha Sha

Don’t you forget
Don’t let anyone forget
Sha, Sha-Sha

Sha Sha, Sha Sha
Sha Sha, Sha Sha

‘Oh no,’ he said
How could I forget
They would have to see through white marble stone
Just to forget

22 years
20,000 pairs of sun-ripped hands
Because you can never have enough

And though you might notice
There are 64 to the lotus
Inlaid with semi-precious stones
This is the place that will house your bones

Sha Sha, Sha Sha
Sha Sha, Sha Sha

For you, my stone-faced lover
This is not enough
There is never enough for just anybody
You could never satiate these burning desires
Amber is no Sapphire
And high above the fort
I can see my wealth
And for you I’ve sworn
No one will ever forget

Sha Sha, Sha Sha
Sha Sha, Sha

Sha

dull poem, dull pointed.

by bachelorette

i've been here.

i stay here, i'll be here
and don't look at me
like i'm the tourist

you come and you go but i always take you in
you love her then leave her
but i never shut you out

just once i'd like to shut the
door in your face. give you
back what you give me.
i want you to feel it
but even if you do you
won't be the same hurt.

whether or not it's right, i
want to give you the same
hurt.
but i'm about as good as a dull seringe
you've worn me down
i'm not nearly so tactful.

I've Forgotten How To Write For Many Reasons

by turtledove

Ever since I called her last week
I've heard from her every day
Her sugary voice
says my name like a question
That I don't know how to answer

She jumped down from the truck
Slamming the door before her mother could say goodbye
And she looked at me with eyes that asked me
who I really was

I looked away and asked her how school was going
She watched as I walked through the snow,
up the elevator,
to my room

I taught her to hold the yarn
What motions would create what result
She told me her mom trusted her with her cell phone
And that she had my number memorized

I smiled into my project
And felt like a fraud

This was her life
And to me it was a game

Two Diplomats

by shira

I had a dream last night
That someday I’ll be one of those people
Who asks everyone they meet in broken elevators
If they’ve heard the one about the Muslim and the Jew at the barbershop

Where neither would take off their head covering
And so were kicked out before they could ask for a shave
And then fought so close together in an alley
That the blades from their matching Swiss army knives
Cut the stubble off of each other’s faces

Then they had a good laugh as they walked back to work together
And exchanged phone numbers
For their wives to meet and their children to play
So that they could sit and watch,
Right as the planes hit, right as they stepped into the elevator

I woke up before the part where
My history teacher a few years ago on that day’s anniversary
Asked me, in the skullcap
To debate with my friend, in the hijab
About which side had caused the terrorists to crash the plane

The punch line he was looking for
Was that the hair over the Arab’s eyes was too long for him to see the building
And so there was a collision

I would have made any kind of bad joke I’d thought up while asleep
To ease the tension
But instead I frowned and refused his suggestion
And acted like one of those people who take things personally

Six Feet is my Height so Bury me Deeper

Written by Kester Henrick

Whose the lie and whose the fake.
Was I your friend or were we in love.
and its sad to think we were closer when we pretended not to care
our friendship burried itself once it heard that I loved you.
Everything was so much easier when we had cooties and love was an April fools.
When your yes meant yes and I never lied.
When you thought I was cute and your voice held my tongue.
A hand full of pills and whiskey looks good now.
I'd only bite the bullet if you shot it.
We're the fuck ups.
We made our last mistake.

"I Want you to Leave me Alone."

Written by Kester Henrick

It finally happened.
A heartfelt discussion leading to my worn out self asking:
"What more do you want from me?"
and you answered.
For once your voice rang through with honest malice and time abruptly stopped
and I just stared as that response lingered in my head, trapped, looking for an exit.
And all I could do was stare blankly into an abyss of painfull honosty.
In return, I left, because its what you wanted me to do
and the only thing I ever wanted was for you to be happy.
I drove my heart home that night, wearing nothing but shards of glass and a love I once thought would never treat me like this
and I walked through the front door alone for the first time in weeks.

just like old times

by turtledove

every time i hear your voice over the phone line
i remember being scared

the panic that would hit me like a
steel rod to the temple
when i'd hear your footsteps coming
up the stairs late at night

how i would become tense when the car pulled up

i remember all the times that i would
wander away from the house

wishing someone would kidnap me already

i don't know where we would've gone.

your voice on the phone brings me back
and makes my pulse pound

you are only in my ear.
you are only on the phone.
i can press end
i'll be alright

This is Only getting Harder.

Written by Kester Henrick

I play the doctor.
You come to me only when you need to talk.
and I listen.
and take notes.
and when I show you an ink blot and ask you what it is, you say:
"I love him."
and we'll talk.
You'll tell me everything.
and I will ask you, "How do you feel about that?"
and you say, "I'm not crawling back to him."
Yet you'll make another appointment for a later time.
Paid in full by your tears.
I'll see you again when you need me.

and I'll walk back to my office and read what I've written, always the same thing with each visit.
This poem.
and I'll pull out the ink blot from my bottom drawer and look at it.
My heart.

"What the Fuck is Wrong with You?"

Written by Kester Henrick

I gouged my eyes out, but I can still feel you breath through the words you type onto my existance.
I read it like brail. I feel it in my fingers.
I tore my ears off, but I can still listen to everything you say.
Every time you tell me how much you hate him cause he hurts you, my heart blankets you.
Every time you tell me you love him for it, my blood cries.
and no one has ever made me feel this way.
I admire and love you for it.
I'm ill because of it.
because of love. and wait. and worry. and bleeding. and sharing and daring to care.
I'm fighting for this.
I'm fighting for death on my lifebed.
I'm dying for you to be happy.

It's Felt Great to be Used & One more Cigarette won't change a thing.

Written by Kester Henrick

It felt like a sin to tell you how I really felt, my sweat dripping blood off my forehead.
But its over and done with and I have to accept the fact I will never mean any more to you
than the toy you played with when you were bored or alone.
You think I'm jealous of him, don't you.
You're right, I am.
How the fuck can you still be "in love" with someone that mentally and verbally treats you like
shit?
Get it through your head.
Open your eyes.
View the picture.
I care.
He doesn't.

I Don't want to Sleep without You.

Written by Kester Henrick

If I told you that I loved you, would you hate me?
Would you take the words and rearrange them the way you'd want them to read?
Would you laugh it off and call me dumb hoping that I'd see that someone else means more to you.
Someone that you need.
Would you fake the love back hoping not to hurt me? and only say the words and thoughts that you'd want me to read.
Would you really love me back, not for what I own, but for being me?
for being who I am.
Not who you need.

When I am Drunk, I think of You.

Written by Kester Henrick: November 24, 2005

I wanted to help you during a time when you needed me most.
A friend and a bodyguard miles apart, and yet somehow I felt every tear you shed.
I wanted to make things right for once.
To be the last piece of a puzzle that would uncover the picture you had in your mind from the start.
A perfect relationship, a used friendship, an unwanted tool.
I wanted to tear him apart for you, for making you feel used and unwanted.
To feel abandoned and alone.
For making you spew your insides onto the carpet, forming the words:
“What have I done to deserve this?” and I sat and watched all of this.
I played the good Samaritan.
I tried my best.

But now its late at night and I’m not sleeping in my own bed.
My veins pulse out these letters onto paper.
Ink onto canvas, sharing the feelings I now have towards you and am embarrassed to share.
I cover it up with poetry, cleverly hiding behind each letter.
I can feel my heartbeat in my hands, my very finger tips, pulsating uncontrollably.
It can’t sleep either.
I’m moved to write and run.
Run from what’s right.
I never meant for it to go this far.
Our symptoms are now the same but this time I’m the one without someone to talk to.
I’m alone.

I never expected this.
In fact, I’ll admit, I tried not to let it happen.
But like my past I exposed myself.
I’m vulnerable, weak, and childish, longing for attention in my own way.
Longing for your attention.
And I’m sure you never expected me to feel this way either.
Maybe we’re too honest together, but simple exposure creates hard outcomes.
I’m not sure what to do tonight.

The truth is I barely know you the way he does.
The truth is I can’t sleep tonight because of you and what he does to you.
The truth is that I love you more than he does…
And my guilt screams “I’m sorry.”