Misguided Ghosts

They echo me in circles.....

Spoken Word Night

Some call it people watching.
I've always just called it being awake.

I can't help but watch and observe the comings and goings.

Where is she rushing to?
What does he do for fun?
That guy looks violent.
She looks lonely...

Some feel my eyes upon them.
I wonder what they think when our eyes meet.
Do I come off as snobbish?
I'm merely curious.

But who watches me?

Do I even notice?

Every now and then, you lock eyes with someone from across a room, and one of you looks away.
But how long were they looking before I looked up.
Was he wondering how much competition I would be as the night progressed?
Was she trying to figure out what color my eyes are?

Or was it nothing?
A mindless glance around the room, and I was merely a focal point.


As I stare around tonight, I catch the eyes of many, but nobody comes to talk.
This place is starting to feel alot like home.

That one girl

Lately I've had this craving,
for something I've not tasted in a long while.

My better judgement yearns against the urges.
But like the sea they Push, and Pull...

I've been told that I'm wanted, but I do not feel so.
I've been told that I'm a personal fantasy, but those are just words...
How can I see what you see? You give me no detail.

At times when alone, I feel myself aching for the sound of a *sigh*
The vibration of a thigh.
The tingling you get that makes toes curl and bad karma flee.

...

But as in all things I crave, I cannot know if it's good or not.
I flee from past mistakes, but do not confuse the notion.

You are tempting...
But you are dangerous.

And while danger may be fun.
I'm no longer a boy, as you've no doubt noticed.

Keep me in your thoughts.
Look me in the eye next we meet, and see what you find.

Who knows, it may just drive you mad.

The Bar

I see you glance my way out of the corner of my eye.

What is it you see?

That time she called me babyfaced?
The mark I carry across my face?
The studs I wear as an act of rebellion?
All the memories that darken under my eyes?

You refuse to meet my eye.
Always looking busy the moment I turn to smile.

Are you ashamed?
Embarassed?
Scared?

What do you expect to find hidden in my eyes?

The first time I told her "I love you"?
The last time I said "it's over"?
The last time i let my father strike me?
The first time I spoke up?

You want to know more, but you know nothing to begin with.

Did you know?

I let her cheat on me?
She was the last?
I stopped saying "I love you" after her?
I'm scared to want someone, but more afraid to be wanted?

You're in over your head.

I'm to quiet to be of any use.
I like the little things, more than any big thing.
Sex should be slow and drawn out.
Momma didn't raise no quiter.

...
She laughs and wishes me well.
It was nice to see you again.
She looks me in the eye. Finally.

And just for a moment I hear her cadence behind my eyes.

"What is it you see?"
"What do you expect to find hidden in my eyes?"
"Did you know?"
"You're in over your head"

I chuckle to myself, and shake her hand.
Our eyes meet for the second and last time that night.

Until next time ladydude.