Wednesday, October 6, 2010

dead men

Why do I fall in love with dead men?

Poets, musicians and writers
trap me with their words
entangle me with emotions
spinning me up
throwing me back down

spinning me up
throwing me down

I am lost
longing for someone I can never touch
can never talk to
never hold

they consume me
and I'm lost
so very lost

it isn't fair to do that to a woman
hoist her up so very high
when you just walk away

I yell at them in my head

maybe I should turn off the music
close my books
get off line

maybe I should just sink into
the daily grind
lose my mine
and be done with these torrid affairs
with the
or maybe I should realize
that saying maybe means
I won't

their words will  ravage me
and I'll latch on to every last syllable
they will break my heart
because in the end
I'm a woman who is
in love


the words of
dead men


  1. I'm in love with dead men too ... the all happen to be presidents who have their pictures on some funny looking rectangular documents with numbers on them. :-)

    On a serious note -- excellent work, really enjoyed reading it.

  2. I'm also a fan of said dead men. Yet its funny, because loving those dead guys is about 20x more complicated than pining over Proust (or whomever else I feel the need to pine over from day to day).