1 part hyperbole, 2 parts truth

My face tear-stained, emotionless, my voice a crystal rasp, and sometimes what it is I want is not the same as what is in my grasp, so I keep saying to myself that I don't care for her at all, but all the while I'm still sitting here, just inches from the fall, and talking myself down with sensible yet so transparent lies, back from the risk of tumbling down again. I've had too many tries at love for one more wasted effort on an obvious mistake, but if you've been there then you know that it just isn't quite so easy to convince yourself of something which your self is well aware could lead to just another heartache, if you think that on the way there might be happiness in store for you, a taste you can't forget, but which you haven't had a drop of since you can't remember when it was she last gave you a smile that you knew meant she was yours, and then the one you gave returned the sentiment. I just can't help myself. Sometimes I wish convincing me was easy. Oh, but then I'd never let myself do anything I wasn't sure of when I started out, and all the best of all the journeys I've been on have been so littered with uncertainty, inspiring words and songs and all the best of me comes out when I'm not sure of where to go. Will this step make the sun shine brighter, or will this one bring the snow? It doesn't matter at the time. I simply follow where my feet would like to go. But this time I've a clear emphatic no. But have I ever listened to myself before?

Sonnets Are Fun

In looking at the time that we had shared,
There isn't much validity to find
About my basis for how much I cared,
Or how it felt to then get left behind.
The timing wasn't perfect for us then,
And once we even tried to make it real,
But that's what scared you off I guess, since ten
Days after that was nothing left to feel.
I should have seen it coming from the start,
And hey, you were the best I ever had,
But when the time did come for us to part,
I did get quite unreasonably mad.
For though it was as simple as a fling,
I haven't since found any better thing.

Another night I spend with naught to do
But sit alone and dream a dream of you
I made a list for all the world to see
But hid it from the closest ones to me
I don't want them to see my perfect one
Or maybe just a fantasy undone
But either way my public private list
Is all I've got, and so it's all I get
It's been too long since last I felt the tug
As one heart needs another like a drug
But pharmaceuticals are not my thing
My proof is in a box that holds a ring
A ring that once adorned my lover's hand
Accompanied by yet another band
The third was mine, but that's to say all three
Are now the property of only me
They sit inside their cardboard home all day
And though I try from half a world away
To vanquish all the thoughts they used to bring
I always end up focused on that ring
And that's why love is such an awful thing.

The Apology

"Give me one reason," you said as you stood in the doorway,
arms folded as if they might break from your control at any moment.
At once a million thoughts rushed through my head,
But no words accompanied them to compose the apologetic symphony
With which I could still the fear apparent in both of our eyes, which screamed
"It's over!"
without either of us saying a word.
I tried desperately to conjure the magic words that would steer the fire
From anger to longing,
Hate to desire.
I knew there had to be something that would cause this to end well for us.
As I drew a breath and prepared to speak, I knew that this would do it.
I knew you would come back, and we could go back to how we were
Before,
Like we always do.
Three simple words would make it all better,
For now.
I opened my mouth, but the look on your face grew so hot
I swear it burned my tongue.
As I sat alone in confusion, replaying it all in my mind,
I realized my mistake.
The apology had disappeared when my mouth opened.
Three words caused you to storm out instead.
"I wasn't wrong."

Oops.

To My Crate CA-60 (a bit of silliness)

Sounds
Locked in a crate
A crate that I've found
Isn't it great that this crate does abound
With sound
All around me

All at once
It's as if there was nothing before
Only grunts
Where the music now fills up the floor
Can't ignore it
Watch me soar with grace and ease

Lightning strikes
And the thunder still deafens my ears
I shout "Yikes!"
But the laughter persists through the tears
All my fears slip away
When I hear her voice
Never clearer
And now I am left with no choice
But to draw e'er nearer
The beautiful singing
But now there is a ringing

(oops I got to close
My feedback sounded gross)

Flip the switch
And silence the angel for now
Curse the witch
Who decided that sleep was more important than me and my guitar.

I've heard it said that poets who use rhyme
And meter limit creativity
But I have tested for myself with time
And found there is no such proclivity

In fact, from the experience I've had
It takes a more imaginative mind
To put what's in your head to pen and pad
While keeping to the structure you've defined

But sometimes you just have to go off book and write what you feel.

Complicated matters don't seem to matter much to you
As long as you're the one we're looking at, it's all the same
But no one here compares, so where's the challenge?
Even you should understand that only fools would suffer you to stay
And what a fool I am. I sometimes wish I were another
But a braver type of man could never hope to turn your disregard
Into a watchful gaze, where all the lights and sounds would disappear
And you and I would stare, my dear, until nothing else was left but you and me,
And then you couldn't help except to see me standing there,
Hopeful yet apprehensive, awaiting your next move in this game
Where even if you win, you keep on playing until you lose again.