Joy Inside my Tears

my imposter in the mirror has taken 
hold of the stirring wheel 

i find that time's shadows 

tends to block the sun in my dreams 

and i don't know if i need a clear view 

of my imagination to enjoy being alone 

on a mountain top 

i've lost my map and 

a bag of your powdered substitute 

is making faces at me 

as it spreads it's leg across my table

purple rain stained footsteps

release a sigh that extends it's hand out 

offering purple shaded secrets

seconds later a shy retreat

running across the streets of infinity

painting on the walls with melted make up

david Bowie counted corpses 

and used a black pen 

there was enough red

earth tones conceal indications 

the reflection has been altered

i still remember the delirium in your eyes

when you sang me that corny song

twisted logic

s/he doesn't even have a face

i tell myself to run away

but i love it,

find me

trying to make resisting

cool enough, again

the bed…

I trace her silhouette in,

still has memories of that look 

of despair in her eyes 

when I didn’t make her feel beautiful, 

enough 

Imagining songs in the key of life

as I lick stains off her neck 

I run a de-thorned flower in between her legs

and it’s the first time I actually showed

her that it’s okay to feel sexy

without tears falling 

                 She kissed me softly,

& whispered “next time, keep the thorns on. So it represents the reality I’m familiar with.” 

                                                    Damn…