888 The 512 Exponential —— (fire it up_____~~)

a Wednesday is all I know

There were words I could not Say
out loud
words I whispered 
While We Were alone
In the mess of your bed
words I So desperately felt
In my mouth
While you were behind me
your hand on my Shoulder
we both Knew then
why I drove to Portland 
from Dover
wrapped in driven by your name
the flames of your name
words I have never meant
But Said So many times
I have said so many of them
My words have come to this
Chicken Scratch on paper
Maybe typeset in a book
If it becomes important enough
for me to call in that favor
Those words are Still in my mouth
and in the mess of your bed
So many things neither of us said
neither of us had to Say
My Chicken Scratching Words
Seem to be (true)
all I have left
choking on this mouthful
as I watch it pour from my pen 
It Seems like there were So many
things I didn't Say
While I was Waiting
I wonder now
If you heard them all
I wonder if you knew I was ready
to be with you
I wonder if you knew I was real
I wonder if you feel what I
I held back Suffocating
on a three word blurb
would it have Mattered 
you read it in my letter
the letter explaining to you 
that it was already too late
too much of not enough
brought down like an elevator in December
like trying to commit Suicide
jumping out 
the basement window
making love Surrounded
by your ex girlfriend's clothes
you did not seem to mind it
And I could never understand why
looking back
I eyed you with suspiscion
I Might have listened to my Intuition
Then I woulndn't care
depending on Time
to make the cloudy clear
forcing reason
when those words I never
are all I hear
I think of Sending you these 
Chicken scratches
But I Still don't know
If you read what I write 
What is it that you would hear.
Would you hear me listening
to your voice mail
listening to the clock tick Six
Then Seven Then Seven 21
would you hear what's in my memory
Would you hear me come undone
or would you only hear your name
two Syllables beginning with A
I am sure It is too late
But have my doubts
In Spite of my efforts
and the things I say out loud

Before I said yes to you
I Said out loud
I can't survive another broken
I Knew it was true
I heard myself Saying it exactly
when I Knew
Maybe it is too late to think like this
to think of you
to try and cross that dividing
between what I feel And you
maybe it's like bringing guns
to church
where do they fit
In the Silence of the pew
what happens when they pass
That Collection plate
what does the Silence of the gun
how much is enough of my life
to tithe to that Bastard time
So I Won't have to Choke back
these words
Next Time

845pm Wed 08 June 2005




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