regenerating.

now, i've never had my heart broken
but lately, i've been thinking maybe
you can have it broken when
it's already full of someone.

i hold this heart, fold it up,
put it in the laundry, and then, in the sun,
and hang this heart out to dry,
wrung and wore out from loving someone.

pulsing anew in my boned in cage,
i renew this old heart, regenerating,
(but they never heal completely)
they, these scars, they are complicating.

one day, my dear will realize
there are no more cells
to bring this lonely heart
bring it back to life.

note to self (or maybe others if you're listening)

First off, I would like to apologize for the angst driven poems of late. I'm sure you can understand why I have been this way if you only read just one. Secondly, I don't know why, but I am obsessed with parenthetical titles to my poems. If this annoys you, sorry. I think they sound quite lovely. However, I will try to stop to stop being so predictable. :)

With that in mind, thirdly, here are some short poems.



---
blackbird song (so this is goodbye)
---

i cradled your hand in mine and 

waited for the goodbye to go by and by

as the blackbird sings its little song

it trails off in the northern sky

oh how you used to feel like lightning static
like raging forest fires and mountain leaps
we were falling like fallen angels and devils
before they sat down to weep.


---
heartbroken melody (of a king and queen)
---

i thought i should write a "heartbreak" poem

but it's much to soon for me,

still see that smile and hear the way

you said together we'll forever be.

so instead i wrote this la-di-da tune of mine

that holds all these memories

of birds and bees and darkened mead

of a painted queen and her lonely king

and all the times they took a hand

to keep from falling apart

and of all the times they left behind all

but just each other's hearts.

a year of memories.

i'd think of February
when we'd drift through the snow
leaving behind footprints that show
four lines, four uneven rows.

i'd think of that time in the rain
back then in April,
you grabbed my hand and i complained
but then you put your hand to my cheek
and kissed me sweet and coy.
i just smiled, and said you silly boy.

and sometime in June,
I'd lay my head on your chest
and slowly, steadily, confessed
that I think I might be falling.

by you, in august, i softly laid down,
our backs on the grassy ground
i breath in to match your steady pace
and looked over at you
and saw love in your open face.

i'd think of october
as a month of coffee and coats
of studying in light filled libraries
quiet, but steady and sure,
we never thought to drift apart.

december, a kiss, short and shy
as we said our goodbyes,
looked one last time into each other's eyes,
and watched as the love died.

bleeding hearts.

when the sky cries, it lends its tears,
sown already in the ground
and the roots of hearts, growing like
unwanted weeds in between sidewalk cracks
on hot summer days,
dig deep, searching for its lament
and oh how they grow, these unwanted pests

from the penumbra of aching limbs,
and the light wispy tongues of thirsty shrubs
ah, how they falter and wait a moment, these

bleeding hearts, like jewels ,

fragile, hanging by a small stem encased in air

i only know them for the lush lush

red dripping down, i reach out and squeeze

feel its heated soul, burning like a coin in my palm

water clings to its wrinkled surface:

tears, already sown in the ground

growing more bleeding hearts