Sonnets: The "Cleaning Out My Closet" Sessions

Popped into the sonnet folder and finished a couple... They're personal, they're honest, and they're ugly.


Sonnet 16

Re-thinking things and here are my two cents:
Don't cut out people. Trust me, I've tried.
'Cause turning a blind eye just robs one sense
And seems to leave the others amplified.

It may be easier to shut the door,

But doors will only keep in feelings caught.

And weathered walls will not withstand the fire

Of passion and love that can't be forgot.

'Cause I still taste her kisses on my lips

And I remember the smell of her hair.

My hands remember the feel of her hips.

These ears think they hear her everywhere.

If losing one sense is the others' gain,
Then teach me how I can turn off my brain.


Sonnet 17 (The Mercutio Sonnet)

Look, all I wanted was to be your friend,
And be someone with whom you could confide.
But I had no idea that this would end
With getting me stabbed in the fucking side.

You got me caught up in your stupid love.
I should have known that something was amiss.
I have so many questions, but above
All else: what was the fucking point of this?

A plague o' both your houses! Hear my screams
With what appears to be my dying breath.
My mind goes back to Queen Mab and those dreams
Yet I had never dreamed you'd cause this death.

But good for you. Get married. Pick out shelves.
Or skip to the end, and go kill yourselves.


Sonnet 18

Her arms don't feel like a salvation but,
I guess that they are good for a quick fix.
On paper she is perfect, but then what
Good's a perfection full of asterisks?

I search for answers in her eyes. I stare
but only find there's nothing to be learned.
I look for fire, but there is nothing there
But I still feel the fire when I get burned.

I'm tortured by this itch that I can't scratch.
My other passions are put on the shelf.
Like Ahab, I am fixated on a catch,
And it is making me destroy myself.

I look at her, and I don't see a mate.
I only see my expiration date.