Prisoners Pray Twice at Night

Tell me what you think of pink in the summer- the stink of wet lumber drying in the cold sun and crackling like its grains are trying to run south. My mouth is dry and my tongue has been scraped of the taste. I hate to think that any part of my life was a waste. You always hated when I told you stories of green monsters in late October. You always hoped your father would come home sober. Five Fridays a month he wished he'd had a son but, “what's done is done,” he always said. In his head he thought you were as good as dead. Red was your color then- anger, shame, embarrassment. Love- not even sometimes. Until I showed you how a sunrise can turn the sky tie-dyed and tired eyes see things differently.

As you awoke from your slumber and chased the demons in your dreams away you came to realize when life unravels at the seams you can use a needle to stitch the patterns back together. Whether or not it's six o'clock in the evening or in the a.m.

Lately I've been locked up thinking, stopped drinking, stocked up on love loss and hopped up on dreams shot; and I thought for a moment that if things still go wrong and it won't be long now- we could still go down to that place on the lake where we used to dream of demons on snow machines and monsters on speedboats. We could let ourselves float above the pain and just underneath the happiness; and we could feel the breeze like tree leafs and get stuck in limbo with a thimble.

Watch the weeping willows sway in the golden moonlight wind at midnight with me. Hold my hand as I hoot and howl at the grey horned owls dancing naked around a fire in the middle of the desert. Lend me your shoulder as I grow older and start to cry as I come clean and tell you my secrets.

A secretary is not what I need- but you look like you'll do well to heal me with a roll-a-dex and as you add it all up you see no reason not to believe in me. Dreams do come true even when you don't remember them clearly. Wearily I lay myself down to rest and with my head upon your chest the heavy burdens upon my neck and shoulders leave me; and I sleep in ecstasy because I don't fear you leaving in the morning.

If I had a day off tomorrow I'd come drink your fireball through a fucking funnel and slip into insanity down a dark tunnel much like Alice and the white rabbit ducking down a hole in the ground hoping not to be found just hoppin around like madmen in a whirlwind. Bingeing and purging and cleansing and conceding to the feelings inside they’ve been hiding for far too long; hushing the crowd. Blushing is the proud who speak too loud out of turn; burning is the dying lawn in the morning sun as I lie down in the melting dew and if you only knew you'd be thinking the same thing too.

Sometimes I admit I'm a little too much. I'm not sure what it is about you- your beauty and personality and such- it just kind of sucks that we're not closer in proximity. A city apart- a desert in between- when I was with you I felt so grown up but super shy and silly like a teenager. Maybe sooner or later we can hang out again and see what we have to offer each other. I'd give you all the flowers in the world, the sea, sun, and breeze. I'd give you the moon, stars, and all of me if only you would see how much you mean to me. I believe in manifest destiny- creating our own life; and if you give me enough time I'm gonna make you my wife. I don't even like the word marriage- I'm scared of it.

But all my fears disappear when I hear your voice or when I see your beautiful face. I feel so safe close to your body. I feel one with your soul- I just got to get you to not ignore that maybe a small leap of faith can heal all your sadness and sores. Happiness is right outside the door. It's waiting for us on the ballroom floor.

I miss you like a prisoner misses fresh air. I feel locked up inside my own head and you have the key to my thoughts. I fought so hard to get you here and now that you're gone I fear you'll never come back near me.

If I wrote you a poem would you come back home to my heart and fill the hole you left when you took off in your car and drove away so far? I can still see the taillights shining through the dusty air - love is not fair. I'm not sure I even dare send this- maybe you'll think I'm just crazy and this is all a dream that's turning into a nightmare.

I get on my knees and pray to a God I'm not sure exists to heal the wounds inside my heart and I ask if we can start again. My love will never wear thin. I just sit here spinning around in circles thinking of how I went wrong and I keep trying to write the perfect love song that will win you back and I think I’m having a heart attack.

I know it sounds whack- but I lack so much love in my life right now having lost you twice and it would just be so nice if we could get together and roll the dice. Maybe we can start a fire and melt the ice. Maybe we can find desire amid all the strife. Maybe I can capture your heart and make you my wife.