by Donnie Williams
If Wishes Came True This is What I Would Do
I wish I were a painter.
If I could paint, I would mix together
all the tones of your amber eyes,
immortalizing their abilities
I wish I were a sculptor.
If I could sculpt, I would chisel
each sinew and muscle,
capturing in time the perfection of
I wish I were a musician.
If I could create music
I would hide your name, your movements,
your laugh in melodies
But all I possess is the ability
to style my words into clever anecdotes.
All I am is a writer.
All I am is lowly
because I have written about you
and that means you will live forever.
Your lies were like honey
sweet; they dripped from your lips
and l collected every drop with addicted ears.
Your lies were like chocolate
on a humid day,
I couldn’t lick them off my fingers fast enough.
Your lies were like almonds,
I picked up the perfect brown droplet
but I could never have just one.
I found myself always coming back for more.
I have seen lies drop like honey
off of lips
drip off of fingertips
I have seen lies I could grasp in handfuls.
I can show you fear in a handful of sweetness.
Here you stand
and I want to take you up in my arms
fold you into pieces small enough
to fit in the arteries flowing into my heart,
let your particular
poison seep into my veins.
I know you are wrong for me.
I know that this blackness
circling my stomach is
spouting gasoline coated wings.
You are a lit match
and I can’t allow you to get
But I want you.
I know I am wrong
I am torturing the very essence of my rational self
I know this.
Yet still I love.
Write the Pain
Write the pain, they said.
As if with my pen I could
write it out of existence.
Write the way your chest rose and fell.
Write the way we rose and fell
like Troy, who let the deception in.
Write the way your eyes searched me.
Write the way your eyes danced
towards the sky
and I willed myself to dance along.
Write the way your arms held mine,
the way you flew and made me fly,
held my heart, my hope,
and dropped them both.
Write the way you said good bye. Write the way you said
But forgot to mention you always lied.
So now with each syllable
I’m going to take you, and make you famous.
You will become memes,
what you’ve done splayed across the inter-webs for eons,
If we survive that long
Never to be forgotten
they will set my words about you
before transcendent backgrounds of sunsets.
Hipsters will retweet and reminisce on the
universality of your transgressions.
It will be the stuff of daydreams
The source of controversy
You. Will. Be. Infamous.
Are you ready?