MORE ME THAN ME

I am in love with her.
This pretty girl who jumps out of me every time I sip this wine.

She is free, uninhibited, pure.
She is proud, content, alive.
She is smart, confident, sufficient.
She is more me than I am.

Last night she came out again. She had been naughty and flaring up all week. She had screamed and kicked like a bad child. So last night I let her out of her cage.

She came out smiling and grinning  with mischief. And she came out swaying her soft hips to some music I could not hear. She danced gayly like her feet had been bewitched. She came out, and she came with all my sass.

This girl I'm in love with, She went into a fit. She yelled at me and she broke some of me. She said she's tired of wafting in and out of my lucidity like a caged vixen. "No more prison," she ordered.

No Promises

Do not promise me a fairy tale. No! Please don't make promises. Because my heart is silly, she'll believe you.

There was I time I dreamed of the luscious kisses of knights. And princes whose kingdom was trapped beneath my bosom. Who'd guard my smile with truth and soul.

I wanted you to swear by the stars in the night sky and the moonlight trapped in the salty lake. That my name is the only melody. And the rhythm of your heart beats in acknowledgement.

That time is not yet passed. Fantasies still plague my sanity.

Dancing in the rain and kissing you while the great ocean jealously rages by. There can be no antidote for such portions.

So please don't mention such foolishness to me. Because every word you say is like a sorcerers' curse. It'll bind my naive heart like a poet's muse.

ANGRY DUST

I'm seething with anger. 

I am so angry that I am sweating in this cold and lonely room. The stuffiness clogging up my mind is making it difficult for me to hear my own thoughts.

I'm annoyed. With both of us. You and me. Of course it's mostly with you. The only reason I am pissed with myself is that I have reached the maximum level of annoyance with you, and there is still some unappropriated anger in reserve.

Why am I angry with you? Aaaarh. What kind of question is that? Please. The only sensible thing to ask me now is whether there is even a single reason for which I am not angry with you.

You have really pushed my buttons. See, you have reached here.. the brim! It is only because it's you that I'm bothering to even bring up this issue. If it was anybody else, they would only be seeing dust. You know, the dust I would raise behind me as I leave tuuuuf!

Why are you still just there like that? Do I sound as if I am singing? Please, I am not. So you should just begin apologizing now now. Before you blink and then all you see will just be angry dust.