Archive for March, 2012

March 23, 2012

by Elexa Rose
I think she’s trying
to smile at me
over the top of red-wine lips,
somehow trying to lock
those heaving eyes
with mine that flit
like how we once did at a
high school disco.
We danced like finger-tips
that hold the glass rip
and we sip
and we make-believe
that we are smiling

March 18, 2012

by Elexa Rose.
When I spoke,
I said it as if-
And those words
That are nothing,
If not-
And I stare into
The mirror, for hope.
But she steals my glassed face.
When I speak,
I hope it’s like-
When I reconcile.

March 10, 2012

by Elexa Rose
Hot wax is kind of
like love,
only hotter
and soft enough
to squeeze.
Hot wax is like a
kind of silence,
only it cools faster
and I can push
it away afterwards.

Picture Frame
March 7, 2012

by Elexa Rose
And it’s like the space
where a picture frame used to hang.
Still and steady,
large and proud.
And it’s like printing
on low ink.
The words fade
and struggle to be read.
And it’s like my lips
lost the longing for words,
like the words
That I held back.

Cliff Top
March 5, 2012

by Elexa Rose
Maybe it’s the black of her eyes.
Or maybe her eyes aren’t black at all.
Maybe they are too large and
they look too innocent.
Maybe they hide secrets.
Maybe it’s how small life seems
When I’m lying in half-sleep
Pretending to count sheep.
Maybe I’m not pretending.
Maybe my head isn’t ticking.
Maybe I can hear doors slamming.
Maybe I want to hear doors slamming.
Maybe my ears hear and
Perhaps my head does not.
Maybe I hear chairs shunting.
It is a possibility and for that we clock in
And clock out again at the end
Of a long hard day.
Maybe it wasn’t a long day.
And maybe it was too easy.