words that spin

wheels
a spinning sensation
i imagine
as i stare
blankly
at the ceiling
constantly
falling into
oblivion
as i sit at the
edge
of my bed
grasping
gasping
for thoughts
trespassing
nothing but the
ceiling's
blank stare
thrown back in my
face
quiet mocking
laughter
is all that's
there

middle words

It's Loren.
And I love it...

...just so you know, my dear.

a play on words

alertly abstract
walking conundrum
armed with words
as a defense
from her own
contradiction
contemplate this
conception of a
cataclysmic connection
personifications
perfected
alliterations
aligned
somewhere in her
mind
trying to
find
the meaning
behind this banter
disguised as wit
cleverness
cleverly concealed
from her world
from herself
a Cartesian moment
fit for a king
a queen
a jester
using words as
fool's gold
eyes wide
bait beckoning
harassing
an endless fight
for some right
to belong to her
no puns
or plays
no matter how
cleverly concealed
can conceal her
now

waste of words

Doc, what would you say if I told you I still love him and he still loves me?

I shake my head, knowing full well she can't exactly see me through the computer. So at least I'm safe for now. Needless to say by this point I expect questions like this from her.

Weak, I think.

Well, I would ask first if you're sure, because I think he's lying to you, I say.

After all, it's what he's good at - the lying. The cheating. The "oh-baby-I-love-you-come-back-to-me's". Typical. How very typical.

I'm sorry, I tell her, You know how I feel about boys. I'm cynical. They can't be trusted, especially weeny ass ones who need to grow a pair.

God, I knew I had you for a reason, she says.

My thoughts intertwine. I'm distracted momentarily. Damn computer. I snap back.

Well, I think he smells. That's what I think. Sorry, mama, but you can do better.

I know what you'll say to that. You always say it - the same cookie cutter line over and over again. Who are you trying to fool? But this time...you don't. I didn't expect this next.

You will find yourself in a situation one day, Doc, where you are at the other end of the spectrum... Go easier on yourself then for me, okay? He has a lot to prove. That's all I'm gonna say...for now.

For some reason I just can't understand why you say the things you say to me. Something in me wants to slap some sense into you. Something in me wants to snap.

Well that he does...but mom, he's a boy. He's an immature teenager trapped in a 40 year old's body and he ain't gonna change.

Funny how it works, isn't it? You see...I've actually been saving that line for YOU. Don't you get it?

Doubt it all you want, but boys or in any relationship you have love, she says. Just remember what I said, deal?

He ain't gonna change, mama...

And neither are you...

...but okay. Deal.

confused words

don't pretend it didn't happen
we all feel it
in places we never thought
possible
the deepest corners of our
hearts
ache
dull and throbbing
not quite lifeless
barely breathing
intoxicated
from lack of air
senselessly feeling
uncomfortably numb
screaming
silent words
that should've came then
but have drug out to
now
to this place where we can't be
anymore
struggling for answers
that won't come
you
did
this
and we look for reasons
why.
why?

waiting on words

here it comes again
she thinks
as she clutches the worn out
copy of her favorite classic
Catcher in the Rye
closely to her chest
this feeling
she knows all too well
but not well enough
she closes her eyes and
waits
she waits
any second now
she always waits
knowing full well
it won't end the way she
wants
so she waits
she waits for this feeling
to pass
for the pit in her stomach
to stop engulfing her
she waits for something -
anything -
to help her close her eyes
and find some hint of sleep tonight
she waits for those dreams that
she knows just won't come tonight
she waits for the spark
that will snap her out of her
drone
she waits for a reason to wake up
and do it all over again
she waits for all of these things
and more
so much more
but most of all...
she waits for love to just
love her in return
when will it stop...
not tonight
she knows
yet she continues to wait
the single tear
rolling down her face
frozen in a sickening frame
of perpetual metaphors
that barrage her
with their metaphysical
existence
she waits
she always waits
with her "bible" in hand
praying that this waiting
is in fact worth the wait

worthless words

i could talk
but i won't
i could write
but i won't
not to you
not to anyone
i could take it
for what it's worth
but words
all these worthless
pathetic words
mean absolutely
nothing
to me
to you
to anyone
so why does it matter
so damn much?