Poetry Pavement

The Inventory of Love

Retracing the trajectories of her lips,

Rebuking the claims set down by her lost eyes,

There has never been a more sorrowful count,

Than the inventory of old, used-up love.

Vows and Tears

Taking out those hurtful words,

One by bloody fucking one,

Throwing caution to the birds,

Always on the goddamn run.

.

I had never done a thing,

Better than the thing I do,

Even when you got my ring,

Nothing other than a coup.

.

Blistered dreams and broken vows,

Hurt much less than I once thought,

Shattered so like farmers’ ploughs,

Love’s disease that I once caught.

The Train

We cut a path through wood and stone,
Broken dream and shattered bone,
Turned away from hope or sorrow,
When we set to reach tomorrow,
Getting lost down winding track,
Knowing that we won’t be back,
Inside the world inside the hole,
Inside a train we don’t control,
Dreams quite simply start to drown,
Spirals always spiral down,
Upon the tracks we’ve always laid,
Beneath unanswered prayers prayed.