I Really Believed You Couldn't Hurt Me

Spiraling into my own pages

to lose contact and get lost

It makes me cry to listen to music that I 

hardly understand, but it's

the closest thing to your voice that I know

And I can't touch it, so inhaling

anything possible might help 

to spend time away

Spending the nights away sucks more and more

What else is there to ask for

before crossing the line?

Please don't answer that

The answer might be terrifying 

And here I thought you couldn't hurt me...

~Tina Meeks

What Kind of Night is This?

Dust filled air and lungs

Plunge for the occasion

The night skies have been hiding until now

Object permanence leaves a silhouette 

like vines upon brick walls

Ripped down

 

 

 

~Tina Meeks

One Week Apart

This is all a love story

Tender

Pretending to be solid on the surface

and beyond our binding skin

Instead, solidity is false through substance

and a mindset

By the end of the night, it's a broken heart

Too tender to handle

~Tina Meeks

Fearing Sadness

I feel as if I am breaking

My memories are ruptured

into bits that have never been put back together

They don't know how

These fragments have gone astray and I've let them

as a result of fear

of involuntarily participating 

in these mad sounds

that are silently harmonizing

with a planned out rhythm 

This is called sadness

When it feels like an allergic reaction

Closed throat

Recognizing a body-wide heart throb

and it's not good

This thought alone, scares me

because I know why they have dispersed 

I ran them out of town

and this is what's left

I've grown bitter and unsatisfied 

with having to face a truth that hurts

Knowing that your simple existence is just that

Simple or lacking complexity in built 

I grow silent knowing this

and now silence is all I know

It has matched the silence that has prevailed

for some time now

I've stopped fighting it

But I fear the next time it surfaces...

 

 

~Tina Meeks

Life in the Slow Lane

I wanna live slow with you

and grow more destined

to spend the night 

under the blanketed sky together,

no matter how cold,

because it matters not at all

~Tina Meeks

Cheers

I have become a nuisance to

 the inevitable facts of you 

and your kindness

So, you've dissipated

We have drifted and both gone

home for the evening

It was cold and black outside

and almost sounded hateful,

but it wasn't

Just drunk, thrilled, and desperate for madness

I didn't know where to go,

nor what to do,

so we met in the middle

and kissed and cuddled and murder our thoughts

so we could invite our feelings

But I'm nothing but bashful

You were everything and bold

We were nothing but together

and I'd cheers to that

I would cheers to all of the 

new beginnings and often

to petty seeming occasions

A toast to the time I rode the 49 for the first time

Toast to matching socks again

To the stranger asleep on the bench in the morning

Cheers to this falling apart notebook

being held together by packing tape

I wanna know what you cheers to 

so I can fall asleep thinking about it

So we can run through the misted night

amongst swarming owls

We can demand salvation and young independence

we never thought we had

In the end of it, we all smile anyway

We can laugh, catch our breath, and remain a nuisance

to the night that we 

never want to end

~Tina Meeks

Pressed Flowers

I know who you are

You've made yourself known by 

pressing yourself in with the rest of the flowers

to be remembered

Only thing is, you're faded

And I have yet to paint the jaded and willingly detained

that have rained

on my parade

but I promise you,

this will take place

I never wanna be the death of you

Just the attention getter

~Tina Meeks