07-02-2012, 09:04 AM
I was doing something I normally do when I'm down/unsure of myself (writing poetry) and started to look at the list of poems I've been writing since the end of last year. During that time, I wrote a poem called Save You--which, essentially, tells the story of my encounter with a meth user and how, even though he was so horribly-ill within his disease, I saw a spark of a good person. At the time I wrote the poem I felt a great emotional connection with him born out of sex. I don't feel that way anymore, but the poem still holds some sentimental value to me, especially since I recently found out he was diagnosed with HIV.
I don't talk to him much anymore (hardly at all,) but I do think of him often.
So, this is for you, W.
Save You
I don't talk to him much anymore (hardly at all,) but I do think of him often.
So, this is for you, W.
Save You
Quote:Is it wrong
That I want to save you
Hold you
Share you
With all the world
To kiss your lips
And feel the world
Turn upside down
And rightside up
And left-side over
And left-side round
Because it seems
That youâre a cause
Worth fighting for
Thereâs no denial
I wonât let you die.
Youâve got a problem
You need to shake
A few little crystals
A few little takes
In a contraption
With a glass bauble
A plastic bottle
And a baby nozzle
That makes you feel
Like everythingâs fun
A simple run
Out in the sun
But you donât go out
You donât have class
You donât have a job
To kick your ass
But thatâs all right
And thatâs ok
I know your past
I feel your present
And I know your future
So bleak and cold
The pretty crystals
So white and old
Made of lovely things
Of rust and mold.
There is no love
At least not yet
But there is attraction
I do, I faint
For the reasons
The simple cause
The justice mire
Where angels fell
Where demons are born
Where addiction is bad
And the demon is Dad
Who made you tremble
Who made you shake
Who made you quiver
An ungodly saint
Who took a knife
And took it hard
Who dragged it across
The broken yard
The big long street
That went up and down
Instead of east and south
There are no rivers to cross
Or so you say
You canât remember
The do ordain
The simple measures
A lifeâs worth of pain
But thatâs all right
And thatâs ok
It doesnât matter
What you take
What you smoke
Or what you do
The pretty crystals
That say, âLove youâ
That you can get
For five big tens
For one big fifty
For two twenties and ten
Itâs all a matter
Of when and where
Of who and what
And why and how
Because when you smoke up
And you hear Tina
Sheâs singing high
Sheâs singing low
You feel at peace
The trouble begins
Is it wrong
That I want to save you?
And is it wrong
That all I want
Is for you to quit
I donât love you
At least, I donât think I do
The crystal measures
To do, or take?