Grounded

You practice an act of subtlety
Because you wouldn't lead me to think
Your love is premature
Greater ones than you
Have fallen into its death grip
But my perception may be skewed
I will not be swayed
By the illusion of fortitude
Your diction is not enough
To convince me of your loyalty
Keep your hands steady
And your eyes straight in front of you
To counter your swift descent
Everyone makes their way down
To those grimy depths of doubt and disbelief
Are you strong enough
To assail your false conceptions?
Will you bring despair to its crooked knees?

Cara Hawkins 9-22-09

Life Cycle

I like the idea of you,
And I imagine you watching me when I
Uh, uh, oh...
You flit inside me like a butterfly
And make me feel sick in the head
I want to take control
And be the one to let go
I have nothing to hold on to
And you just keep getting further away
I want to make you
So take me on
I want a list of three reasons
We shouldn't take the world by storm
There is little time to sin
And even less time to be forgiven
You and I are not of this world
And music is the language we speak
The only way I can touch you
And the only way I can reach you
Is if I hit you between the eyes
There is magic in our fingers
There are stars in our eyes
I've been seeing it since I was young
But I couldn't put it to words then
Now my words are a tool and a weapon
A scythe and a weed
A flower and a seed
They grow and they die
With the ever-changing emotion I charge in them
They cannot hold me against my will
And they cannot be held responsible
For the crimes I commit with them
They are merely accomplices to a benevolent crime
Forged out of sheer boredom

Cara Hawkins 9-21-09

The Fear of Love

I'm down in my bones,
feeling their grooves and curves.
I'm touching the finite edges of my being
and feeling the distance I make as I grope.
I can only imagine the skin attached to these bones,
the color, the texture, and the scent.
I imagine my face being drawn toward the scent,
undeniable and blameless.
My eyes move across the surface like velvet
and with a lust no eye can savor.
I yearn to pluck such soft strings,
feel favor as it burns in my fingers.
I have scratched the insatiable itch
and the doubt that leaves its reminder.
I envision perfect bliss
in the serenely devoted face of my dreams.
The hand that reached for mine gave truth and I was free.
If there is no garden or other world,
I will not bear dissevered passion.
The flight that would ensue would take me
beyond majestic earthly manifestations of Heaven.
My happiness will not be true
until I have suspended this divine passion.

Cara Hawkins 9-10-09