Hungry for What You Have

cut myself from these muscles (all rotten moorings now)

lay my tendons down (severed anchor-lines)

drop these bones (useless ballast they are)

burst from this place at last (a man free from himself)

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child, tell me a story, because Ive grown bored with myself.

Ive run this life through and through and through

now I need to live through you (to be reborn in you)

I need to be reborn in you, because what was me is dead.

cliché as ash and dust, wanting something new

child, child, let me taste the life in you (live a life through you)

this is what is left of me, what so interests you:

a ghost of a man without weight or wrestle

hungry for what you have.

a ghost of a man without weight or wrestle

hungry for what you have.

EVERYTHING THAT WASNT (and will be again)

Sweet as milk from a virgins breast,

loud as the dead mans yell.

In this space between seconds on my broken clock

Ill find the runes with which your name to spell.

In this place between breaths in my mothers womb

within my skin your name Ill spell.

This is everything that wasnt

but could have been.

This is everything that wasnt

and will one day be again.

Mirror Song

Dont grow so obsessive

dont lust so loud.

Bite your tongue,

your lip,

your nails

its the only form of possession

that you are allowed.

Dont grow so incessant.

Dont you be so proud

counting your hours by the seconds

as you follow her around.

Bite your tongue,

your lip,

your nails

cause its the only possession

you will ever be allowed.

Look me in the eye

Is this why you want to live?

Is this how you want to die?

(and will be again)

This is everything that wasnt

but could have been.

This is everything that wasnt

and will one day be again.

08/21/2005

Author's Note:


Hung from the stars of the Southern Cross I look down and see the world that you hardly remember, blue and blinding, as perfect and painful as they day you first looked up at me and said

Posted on 08/21/2005
Copyright © 2026 Richard Paez