Annabelle is nervous, she frets
Shes leaping from pier to pier
tearing through the corners and cabinets
racing the floorboards
tracing the tidalwave curtains with a vicious gleam in her eyes
evil, what evil begets
what gave me this beast
no feast to be had, nor gold in my purse
what to do, whats hers
and what does she think
with me here scribbling
watching her nervous
leaping from pier to pier
shes got years
shes floating out of a lamp
shes magic of all my suitcases
negating roads and coats, dripping potion and curses
shes here to stay, bisecting my day
what would she say?
what does she say?
good an intro as any! now onto You, the eternal You.
We’re taking some time, you and I- baby. You will be everyone I love, everyone I leave behind, everyone I wish I had on my arm, your bangs sliding across your forehead, you shoulder leaning on the far seat on the bus we take towards Everywhere, forever, endlessly rolling along the seashore. More and more I realize that you are nobody, you are the wind billowing, my pillow crinkling, the butterfly flutter of my eyelashes against the blanket, waking me up and gesturing at the empty trench along my bed that was once yours.
You’ve never had a lover, you don’t know what it means. You lie alone, terrified of the idea, the tragedy, of somebody being needed. You’ve been betrayed, kicked, flung away enough times, told you are too long, too far away, too inconsequential or short on the path to make the coatrack position alongside we and our capes. God I miss you. You are a million shadows, a million grains of sand that rush past me on the beach as I stoop to pet the dogs who pass, chasing kelp and wooden sword pirate dreams. You are all the food and drug I could ever need, an illusion illuminating the silliness of it all, that people should be apart. You are the space between my hair begging its own purpose, the curve in my back begging its design, the ache in my hip singing at dawn, the catch in my throat. You’re everything and nothing as always, everything and nothing.
Leave em alone and they’ll come home.
You are a haunted house I keep on driving away from
I keep finding you creeping ever faster in the rearview mirror
long long long in the ice
yellow green you stretch in the light