Trying Not To Panic

On the Street where you live 

Is where glimmers of 

my sun…

shine danced upon a saintly touch 

On the street where you live

Is where I called your touch 

a

  home 

Hands Holy      Touch

Or so it was thought

When did I start trusting god again

When did the air we brethe Become shivers of cycles I felt with you

1 1

2 2

3 thr..

I swear i found my trust 

Where I lost my innocence 

Now my muscles tense 

At the sound of your voice 

Every choice I make 

Is a reminder that I am awake 

Away from you

I can partake in my life again 

My

My

My

On the Street where you live

Deep in the back door to your room revealed

the cracked foundation 

My imprinted feet on the bathroom mat 

On the street where you live.

Are the lights that reached your pillow 

It 

It 

its

 cold

then 

N- 

Now?

On the street where you live is where I would de-

        .           . . Cifer 

My drawer, my garments, my warmth 

Right next to yours

On the street where you live 

In the space between the willow and the brook

There I am

Rue for me?  2 3

2 3 for you?

3 and some 1?

The street where you lived is when I would trust 

When the brawl was against us

Incapable of her own distress

Fresh like a flower

Blooming in the light

I'm just waiting for spring

She was sober as a Sunday 

Painted all our skies gray 

And it would be so nice to say 

Can you cease this senseless game.

Adhere to a fools paradise 

She found a mirror inside her mind

That insults her sense of pride

At the expense of her mind

Oh catch me in your arms again 

Hip and hip were attached again  

The charms latched to the bracelet I made

hold who we were back then 

Now it is shattered on broken pavements 

When did naivety become a past reality?

Some childhood debris to overcome

Who knew growing older

Meant you weren't this idealized solider 

Sunday Sober 

Oh droughts were heaven 

But filled with deep depressions

That keep her eyes fulfilled 

I wish she knew what I knew 

That she was beautiful 

Yearly flames, tick marks on kitchen door frames 

Clearly measure the distance you named

In this unfair game I never even claimed 

When did naivety become a past reality?

Some childhood debris to overcome

Who knew growing older

All feels like rough seas and I am so much older

Just waiting for 

Sunday Sober

Chest to chest now feels like hands around my neck 

Your beautiful stares start to feel like hateful glares

I would drown in every attempt 

To help your mind feel contempt 

in this endless game I fight with you