words on the winds of when...

they are said.
the moment, the reason
the context, the "mean them"..

as in too often, not
and most often, forgot
words are the one thing,
come far too cheap,
and require no thought

just spit em out
rare, integrity, taught
to all us brats and bitches in school
the first to go was "that golden rule"

"yeah, gotta get rid of that"
you, fool
the one that drowned, in the belief
deep, the pool

that swarmed with people
just leeches, legal
to get away with the slaughter,
they do
the first "lynch mobbed"
was the soul, in the truth

words, just wiped
like the ass, swiftly psyched
to get it on, and get it over
do anything necessary
for self gain, like a boner

hard and primed, for the pound
pummel, puss puss
or the ass, even better,
cuz if you don't, your a wuss wuss

just speak em, shit em
out, and forget em
only a fool or a retard
believes
when the name of this game
is "all the moment", deceive

dodge, weave
deny, perceive

that nothing you say
has a lasting effect
just syllables forming sentences
frothed and foamed,
at the mouth of the moment

"no regrets"
just as long as you've the ability
to not take them to heart
best not to believe them
and all the better to forget

so if you can remember these words
then mark them well lived,
well learned

"don't forget"....


bowen hart roselli
14 july 2020
ringwald love 

I'm that guy...
willing to walk through the fires of hell
to stand by you, loyal to your light
what is it they say,
"you may not get what you want,
but you might need what you find"..

I'm tired of apologizing that i am a boy..
or a guy as you'd call me..
"man, dude, friend"..
whatever makes you happy
brings you a little bit of joy

in the end they're just words
a language you speak
you never saw me coming, either
do you really know what it is you seek?

in a place where love is lost, like air
can't breathe, any of us
left with a soul,
amongst all the dead eyed blank stares

of those that surround,
little than less, as in zero, to offer,
place of profit, the god over all
hollow you out,
so you can partake in the prosper

none of this matters to me,
more than you
but "bent", as in lop sided
is our relation, shipped truth

I've done all i could
and then did a little bit more
cuz i feel inside, deep, you are worth it,
but tell me, am i really little more
than an "oh yeah, you"
convenience store?

to drop in, out
as you please,
swift and quick
an "affection atm"
that you get all for free
without even having
to whip out your dick

now that's a good deal,
damn sweet, it is
kinda like a dream come true
that you never even had to waste,
a wish

but here's the thing,
i am losing trust, you
there are plenty of ways
to get fucked, yes
that might even include a spread
for the screw

that shit comes cheap, and easy,
not you..
never have i seen you as anything
but remarkable, true

and that's what, yes,
i deserve back too
there is only one of us here
who has not given much,
still has a heaven of a lot
left to prove

of your word,
i am starting to question it's worth
as i walk amongst the trees
follow your footsteps, soiled earth..

trying to understand you
in a way most would not
because i see you
as one in a million

but based on recent history,
you seem to see me as someone
easily "back pocketed", and even easier
forgot

same old story, doesn't work,
not with you
trust is like truth, both begin t-r-u
so figure out if i matter,
somewhere inside,
I've sensed you feel the answer
yes, we both know,
i am, yes, in love with you
and, final time,

it's not my fault, I'm not a girl
but in some ways you still like it
and that doesn't seem
to really matter to you...

but then it does
and you distance me,
back burner

i may be a love fool,
but believe me,
i am quick studied learner

so figure it out,
what you want and can give
cuz even a fool can see
i am gold, as is my love for you
and so I'm calling bullshit
this is no way for the long haul
to continue to give my all
or to live


bowen hart roselli
12 july 2020
ringwald love

moving through you,
moving through me
doubting all, that i feel, felt
have seen..

a sensitive soul, here,
a dangerous thing to be
sensitive as in skinless, exposed
to all the things that lie hiding, underneath

things, that most, don't want you to see
things, so haunting, they almost
cannot be believed

by eyes that search and seek,
for escape
of inner world realities
so fractured, lost
in a land full of falsehood and fake

he told me, ominously
"few, if any, have ever gotten as close
to me, as you"
the last night i saw him, face to face,
as with him, he took, all my sky,
bathed in blue

and left, a lingering mystery,
all it's own...
what is this feeling,
in my heart, found, you, "home"

and the sensation, enveloped,
my skin, soul, every pore
"heaven on earth"
as he stood before me, in "adored"

as in, just him being near me,
it filled me,
with some unfathomable feeling,
instilled me..

with some strange notion,
yes, he, "the one"
and now, in his absence
sifting the damage, now done..

as to why we lie, to ourselves,
seem to run
away, in the always,
what we seek, when it comes..
in forms and ways,
we do, and did, not expect
and yet, there we were,
an almost palpable assurance
of what would come next...

this time, for him,
i was the one, standing strong
seeing beyond self, for "the fight"
in it, "long"

the kind called, ending in "haul"
like the "forever", finally found,
in "the fall"
as if ears awakened to the sound,
"heed the call"

to a magic beyond both,
bruised and broken, understanding
seeking out the gods, "heavy lift",
helping handing

as nothing make sense,
as to "why", him, or now
i am haunted, the awareness
this, what "with" feels
when cut off, it's limb
and replaced with "without"

golden-hearted like an angel,
who lies like the devil
his hold, so warm,
when gone, it leaves you
disoriented, disheveled

lies that come, spill naturally
from a man, removed, his true self,
too blind to see

the effect they have, or he has,
proved
by the slain heart, ripped out
and handed to him, moved...

compelled to do so,
in reflection, the mirror
of a connection called "profound"
as if, for the first time,
i couldn't see or feel anything clearer..

and yet, disconnect and disavow
is all he knows
and so, the seeds of deny, deflect,
only grow...

which leaves me, this bleeding
of a heart haunted,
strangely, delicately, hopeful
as here within, throbs a man
the defining definition
of undefinable

as the "otherworldly" whispers
here, the ultimate in allowance,
we love to think we do,
our intellect, opinions offered, shown

but what exactly,
in the madness of logic,
do we really,
in the realm of fate and fallen,
forever, like heaven, truly know?


bowen hart roselli
16 june 2020
ringwald love 

life beyond me,
filled with mysterious
beautiful things
all the things my limited blindness
can't see
awareness, when beyond this psyche,
I'm freed

investigations
the difference,
the forest from the woods
the fine line between all the "cant'"
and the "could"

been one way
for far too long
opening the wounds
to release the poison,
get on...

acceptance, silence
internal predispositions
to self-doubt, hatred, violence
of the eviscerate my internal state
the fear, the worry i arrived, too late

to recognize, I'm "all in my head"
want, learn to live, before i am dead
learning to listen,
i can hear, listen, him
something in him, somehow speaks
to the thirsty soul,
there is life, sea of stars, beyond me

i never set out, goal
"I'm gonna see people, surroundings
in the negative,"
but reality, hardships, took,
yes, their toll
and "pin holed" the prism,
the telescope of sight, my soul

became from widescreen, panoramic
to something hyper-focused
on "survival mode", no dynamic
ability to see the magic, the wonder
as this scarring scope,
pulled me further inward, and under

the labyrinth, abyss
inner focused, within
all my pain, all my mistakes
all the "wrong path", darkened mistakes

oppressive worlds,
depressive swirls
of the ugly, the shame
an acute inability to thrive
amongst the opportunity, the game

just not my thing, not very good
as in terrible at navigating,
the "how to be" and
"ways of the would"
make it farther if i only could
get past the inherent awkward of me
beyond fractured psyche,
shifts, kaleidoscopic, engulfing
self-distrust, "set me free"

and...then..something..strange..
inherently sweet, nucleus good,
happened, changed

before i knew it, could see
what was happening
he came, arrived
to erase the words, the definitions
the limited perspectives,
rearranged

opened my eyes,
my landscape, self lies
so ingrained, so small, in their scope
brought forth, in his presence
some sort of "moved",
the teardrops whispered... hope

a feeling, vulnerability
i had long left behind
inward introspection
forever stuck, loops,
the past, in rewind

couldn't see much, called little
beyond "self"
not like i found,
amongst this beyond indescribably
beautiful man's dwell

not a god, just so touchingly human
present and sensitive and smart
multidimensional lumens
of light and fight and fearless
to be near this..

man, this wonder of quiet magic,
so powerful
the gift of life, not "things"
not anything,
more than the experience
of a connection, reciprocal
an alignment to the allowable

love.
of opening self
to the treasure, give pleasure
heart, one's inner being, to another
one who, soul essence,
is the "utter" in utterly
unlike any other

I'd ever witnessed, encountered
before
made all of my selfish, fade away
simply, sweetly not mean much
anymore

transcendence
there is so much left to explore..
delicate intricacies of trees, nature
water, open doors..

of mind and care
and newfound"nevers",
turned possible,in his "together",
a blindness, given sight,
strikingly naked, stripped bare

a desirous submission, clean
this engulfing feeling,
he, the worth, in need, hope to please,
opened, the skies, skin of sensual
soul healing

nothing untoward, revealing
a love like i have never quite known
It's real, it's alive
as more inside this transcendence
of tenderness shown..

he, the mystery, unfold
i could not have fathomed
could not have known
upon me, just near him

to the universe, enlightened
in him, i can feel it, if i let it
i am his, in that, i can feel him
like no other,
no, i am not here alone.

future, bright then.

if somehow he will, would
accept, embrace, allow this
there is no definition i can find for it
except, among, within his
extraordinarily beautiful...

bliss.

(this...just is...love, life, hope
masculine mesmerize, magic, heart)

transcendence


bowen hart roselli
27 july 2020
ringwald love 

 light leaks, the asylum i see


worn down by a world of people
that don't care
take your heart and strip it bare
like savages, ravaging on the little scraps that are left
leave you depleted, functionally bereft

I'm no "snowflake"
and I'm no "wuss"
and, no, i don't "crunch n munch"
on that thing "real men" eat,
ends in y, rest is puss

doesn't mean I'm not real
or "a man"
I'm just from the wired
to get fucked by one, clan

but that's where the similarities to
"my kind" end,
walking this life, "fucking freak"
signals, send

me, the awareness, i never quite fit
with anyone or anything
long enough to breathe, relax, sit
and just "let shit be"
feel secure in all i sense, see

what's that, i smell?
the embers burning,
"take a hike, bro", to hell
"and make sure once you get there,
you remember,
all you did to deconstruct, destroy, dismember"..

your own self,
for the expense of another
overpowered, overcome
by the "you offered it freely,
so i took it", energy of others

always with the dream, hope, wish
that I'd be seen, the same light, gift
i saw so "divinely damaged", in them

beauty is, as beauty perceives
love is as realized as the love it receives

it takes a believer to embrace a deceiver
like it takes a leash
to train a golden retriever

liars attract the truthful
like the candy man attracts the youthful
and you know what they say,
it's because "he can"
so careful, please, whose "hold",
your heart, hand

light leaks, the soul, speaks
imparts it's art, then, bleeds,
from the start...

the start of "something"
is it good, is it bad?
"mixed signal madness"
heightens the "happy",
then devours you, the sad

so I'm no weakling
I'm actually quite strong
to walk through fire, to try
to show, real love, real connection,
it's a "cherish", i abide

problem is, here,
the land of "excuse", and "run, hide"
when "unusual" is found,
the lengths of love, heart, inside

cuz if everyone's not like that
then there's surely something
wrong with me
lived out, lived through
and though lessons learned,
i remain committed to the asylum, i see

the one in which
bonds and "ships", do matter
friend kind, relation kind,
beyond all the lies and loss
the wounds, they seep,
but for you, the risk, it was worth
the here, after...

(because yes, i did feel,
what you call "magic", i call rapture)



bowen hart roselli
17 july 2020
ringwald love

follow your own path
reap the warring wrath
of opinion, opinion
all around
and the more insight you seek,
the more you drown

my fault,
auto-mode
needing to speak,
communicate those close
and that is what happens,
those who matter the most..

see and perceive you,
as they do
love and connection,
a gift
but you gotta know
when, trust yourself, alone
it's arms are outstretched, calling you

hardest thing in the world, let go
of all the things you think you know
questioning every move you make
worried, perceptions of others
the steps you take

then fire rises deep inside,
fuck "the need", fuck the tries
to be understood,
its about as possible
as "soft and moist" is wood

and so the war, is really within
and without, "the guy"
who the answers you seek,
but he will not bend

so you search and search,
emote and write..
what you hope,
be seen as beautiful things
but one can't control
how another reads, perceives..

and with silence, distance
comes a new kind of "destroy"
patience is a virtue,
but so, i guess, i feeling like a toy

to be wound and bound
pulled apart, back and forth
is this all a delusion?
some past life intrusion

i have no clue,
only missing pieces
to a puzzle, befuddled
that to which way
the pressure, releases...

trapped
or not
or simply
an occasional
moment of thought

welcome to a world,
a hundred ways, communicate
but all that means now,
the "oversaturate state"

push it all out,
as in away
and learn to focus
what most is..

important
essential
ignore, block out
all the inconsequential
that drowns us all,
all around, no escape..

cleanse the thoughts in your head
breathe and pray
and learn to breathe, bathe
in the simple silence of

wait.

for answers that may
or may never come
this body, this soul
all that I'll ever know..

this heart, this voice
is there a love to be reflected
"no choice"
as in fall in love with you too
and let one plus one
equal the incredible reality
of two

something, sadly
to the "easy come", easy goes
but to the alone, deep inside
we hold a pain that so few
embrace, seem to know

in the search, feel, awareness, divine
here is not a place,
that values it, valor
land of embittered and bastardized
time

dream, dream on
and shine, if you can
at the end of it all,
what lies left, in your hands?

memories, moments
so like magic, reigned down
simple things, unexpectedly
that made you feel you were wearing
a crown

of unbelievable love
it can happen here,
careful, the tendency to drown
but for the wings and wants
of angels
"no regrets" the attempts
however flawed,

you were found.

alive and impassioned
in a world that cannot understand you
welcome to the inside of self
we all have one, supposedly

and all you will ever be, see, know
in truth, is you
so learn to, for once, and finally

trust

yourself.

because the truth, the answers
you seek
come from him and you
alone and together
an experience
undefinable, unknown,
un-lived

by anyone else.



bowen hart roselli
30 july 2020
ringwald love 

 
left turn,
hmmm...a bunch of frat boy style
jocks and too pretty, too plastic
girlfriends..living it up, partying hard
...the guys are cute, but they'll kill me, most definitely...and those kind of girls hate guys like me...

don't belong there.

right turn,

bunch of all black wearing, black lipstick, downward staring, upward glaring pseudo-freaks listening to the over-glorified, "the cure". A band worshiped by all their "ultra-cool and we're so different, we're too cool for you" kind, so therefore i kind of despised that band by association, while loving a handful of their songs, "let's go to bed" and "a forest"  my all time favorites, but their crowd of followers, fanatics

i definitely don't belong here, there or anywhere with them

walk straight ahead,
really wish i was dead...

"my people!"....all here..

it's a sunday sun soaked afternoon beer bust, barbeque at the local gay bar..

bunch of guys, age range 21 to already dead (over 40) huddled in groups, little packs based on clique, clothing and lack thereof...i get a soda (not much of a drinker) and sit down in the corner.

i'm...supposed...to...belong...here...but..

between all the "i hate women", "yeah, fuck them!" or "i just wanna do their hair" talk...and all the sleazy, cheesy cock talk, come-on's", make-fun-of smirks, glances and not one beautiful, brooding bad boy with a secretly sensitive heart in sight...i realize...

i don't belong here either...

so i leave.
head down, heart sunk.

it's me...

my problem, not theirs...

i don't belong anywhere.

head back home.
turns out I'm not alone...
the most feared of all groups gathered

family.

k.i.l.l. m.e.

psychotic father, tragic mother
sociopathic brother, hate seeping
older sisters, over embellishing, manipulative sister in age, just above me, and last but not least my doused in the devil grandmother with her dumber than shit cohort, husband, my grandfather....

and little old (aged out by twelve, in all ways imagined, trust me) faggot, sissy boy me...

i can't breathe.
suddenly, amongst them
i cease to exist, to feel at all like me...

suffocating..
between wanting to save my mother, being disgusted by the sight of my father, vacillating between loving and hating my sisters and hating myself more for always wanting their love and approval, despising my brother and his twisted glances, pure evil...and warding off my grandmother's ever judgemental, seething looks and stares...

i have to get the fuck out of here.

the origin of the place, "don't belong
anywhere", made brutally, soul scarringly aware...

and so i run, walk, crawl, fly
(at least in my forever in need of escape mind)....

it's now dark outside,
warm air, cool breeze, feels delicately
heavenly..

the street lights glow,
somehow comforting.

and then i see him.
standing against a seemingly
towering tree, smoking a cigarette,
having a rainier beer.

he is tall, about 6'2
the most beautiful, natural dark brown
hair that looks almost silk black
naturally pale perfectly imperfect skin
strong, wide, almost hairless hands
dark, kind eyes.
the kind that hide a lot of soul,
secrets, sensitivity inside.
lips, full, perfectly so, the kind a guy like him could never appreciate how lucky he was to have them...
understated, but somehow on him,
cute clothes.
jeans, white plaid shirt.
north face sweatshirt.
a regular looking, as in dressing, guy,
not the slightest bit regular,
the kind with rough, fragile, stars
glimmering, but not boasting, in his eyes...
his face, the most fascinating i realized i never knew i hadn't, but had just now, seen....
different from every angle, like a prism of light and dark mixed together,
like i finally knew the real presence of handsome, heart, mystery, magnitude.
it, embodied in him...

all.....right...there.

his body, natural, but honorable,
thin, but not, strong, but soft.

he started talking to me.
inherently soulful "somehow...something, an uncommon feeling"

and then i realized.
i felt it all around me,
as the moments turned to hours,
turned to days, weeks, months

time flying, like the universe, present,
admiring

soaked in my skin, my eyes, my heart,
the air, the sun, the rain, morning light, evening dawn, then stars out darkness..

it was him.

soaked in sweetness,
soaked in soul, soaked in sensual
soaked in secrets, soaked in sensitivity
soaked in strength.

soaked in him.
i soaked him in.

and.

i felt at home.
i felt safe.
i felt i belonged
there.
right there.

with him.

nothing, no one, else
had i ever truly felt that before.
and didn't think for a moment,

no matter all the left turns, right turns,
wrong turns, turn-aways, turn backs,
turn-arounds, turn forwards

i would.
and i did.

with him.

his name is Derick.

the end.


bowen hart roselli
16 september 2020
ringwald love 

"i legit hate these fucking phones"
he said, and i thought,

"ya know, he's right.."

may he reawaken
the return to a flip phone revolution.

that's just how i see him,
capable of affecting, inspiring change,
he does it, in me, so he, quite capable,
but I'm not enough, or the one,
to get him to believe, understand, see..

he is magical, but he rejects it,
an inner aversion to the light,
the heart, that is me...

now back to the illumination,
"the taught" in his teach

keep shit simple.
we gotta reach back to go forward

or, for me,
death to the connection keeper,
my personal hell, it's mine
and may now, be the time
i let go, "it's all good and fine"

realize the limited spectrum
of my reality, its impossible
to know the real reality of others
unless they let you in,
effort and the want for action
it doesn't exist in email
or texts, like bites, without bullets
that enter, the center, to explode
and illuminate,
fill the center with light

that can only be found
within the connect, human voice
it's a choice
in a world this distracted
this consumed with so much available
and passing

by, before our eyes and minds
there is too much to process
and too little time

too many words on screens,
flying by
too many "dings and pings"
"who, what now's", flying blind

for me, my fault, my flaw, i admit
and to use his lingo, his word, "legit",
this is it

i live in a space, wide open,
little trace
of anyone i actually see,
on the regular, face to face

no family, a few friends
but either they don't leave the house,
like me, or they're forever straddled,
lives frazzled, by the weight of
too many god damn kids

or they have fuller lives
whoever they're fucking, or fallen for
family members,
more friends than me,
clamoring, knocking
on their front door

so as all i have to do
is go to work, come home
and be consumed, sit, write, dream
i get easily confused
by my life, "abnormal"
and i reach out too much,
try too hard, to keep connections
alive, that others don't have the energy,
the space, the same want, or the time
and so shit dries up slowly,
like the cum stain from a hand job
hidden on the prom queen's dress,
oh so formal

fuck email, fuck texts
fuck trying to hang on,
worry in this wasteland, world
if someone special will remember me
I'll cross their mind and they'll
wanna stick around, reach out
with a depth of meaning, heart
like the best

friends we made, once
"back in the day"
before technology took over
and devoured "the love" in "the lay"

bare ones' heart,
with a little more soul
seems now all we are
are avatars and self delusional roles

of who we want society to see
filtered to, ridiculous and "wrong"
as the days only get shorter,
with all the stimuli scattered,
focus shattered, there is little
defined here, as lasting, anything, long

so please forgive me for trying
as in all the ways
of technology, "too hard"
"too much", "too many",
texts, emails, length and volume
scope of emotion, my cards

laid on the table
but not picked up, with regard
to the want, you wanted it, from me
you, stretched and pulled
a hundred thousand directions
the face of my heaven,
but I'm not yours
the same, in reflection

no guilt, no blame
no "your faults", no shame

i see, feel you in my heart,
someone sacred
but i cannot make you see me
for you, in the same

so, death to the chaser
i never set out, thought I'd be
and all my own energy flooded
at you, so easy to pour out
thanks to the ease, the devil
we know, stroke, masturbate,
to madness, misunderstandings of meaning, "thanks technology"

i meant all, in good
but that's no reason,
no continued excuse
to not see, the "too much"
here, in me
i just want things to be
what you want, desire, flow
forth and back, naturally
see?

god, i miss the days
of flip phones, simplicity,
when if someone truly wanted you, you'd know
because, your phone
would just magically...

ring.

bowen hart roselli
26 september 2020
ringwald love

 odd man, out.

feeling things
you cannot, won't
just maybe, things
you do, but don't

how would i know
'cuz you won't say
maybe we'll both
live and die this way

one of us living
in the love, blood, the giving
one of us dying,
for the dream, new beginning

could be both of us just
true, the same
too easily broken
feel the gift, see the game...

for what it is,
all the bludgeon of bliss
what i wouldn't give
to live inside the taste of your kiss

as you are the last,
the ultimate infinite,
somehow i know this
stuck waiting, the wake up
you will finally get on with it..

take what's yours,
that you already know
who cares, what the limbs look,
once you finally find
that place called home

keys to magic
locked door, madness
must we waste, like murder
the minutes
on any more anything
of our pasts, torn, tragic

i don't want things
i just want you
i finally get it
finally understand
what's true

its loving, living
before it's time
so please see me, feel me
I'm the "yours" in "mine"

to leave this awful, ugly place
made so by the so called
"human race"
another body, another face
as i fight, like fire
to show you no one
can take your place

odd man, out
is this all in my head?
or am i linked to you,
wordlessly, aware all the things
that have yet to be said

change is needed, absolutely
i feel it, breathe it, resolutely
trying, searching
the name of you

an odd man, out
for once in my life
fighting to believe in myself

because i
believe in you,

this, us
powerfully real
beyond the sky, beyond the stars

it's nothing more,
beautifully

than the simple,
but not plain

divine realm, heart

truth.


bowen hart roselli
19 september 2020
ringwald love

 "when nothing has changed
in your life"...

-school of seven bells - heart is strange

when everything has changed
but nothing has changed
different location
different faces
different job
different "no job"
different friends, different spends
different "you", different truths

different dates
different dare to be hopeful
sit and waits
different, but
the same "forced" strangers
same awkward conversations
(so many people hiding so much anger)

same new ends
without any want
any chance for any kind
of anything, begin....

off the "dating" app treadmill
off the anti-social on social media spell
surgically opening my psyche,
"cracked hell",
looking back, trace the facts
for where it was i went wrong
and fell...

apart
inner crumble
took the wrong turn
as "the right one of course",
so i tumbled..

downward, inward
"warped pup, batter up"
to hit my ball, far out, left field
the fucked up shit we do to ourselves
in some bizarre attempt
to work through our wounds and heal

guess what?
the darkness, a devouring effect
and no prism of light,
is beheld, while gorgeous, to be perfect

so, the search, an infusion
of human allowance, flawed
more nuance, less illusion
chaotic chords, inner wiring, a mess
"the shit that arouses me,
when i get undressed"....

or,
a pavlovian dog
when the right voice, right vibe
his song spoke, silent knowing, sung
then my bell well oiled, conditioned
well groomed, salivate heart, rung...

"no one wants a bitch like you,
giving all your power so easily",
best friend says,
stings, confuses me with (his?) truth..

"i guess I'm a bit twisted,
so rare is the chance, I'll be loved,
but i mean well, so there's gotta be someone that gets me,
my kinda devoted, kinda bent, but wholehearted impassioned love"....

right?

no idea.
but it doesn't look good.
all the errors, mistakes
all of my perpetually
"too much" mixed with misunderstood

as i count all my failures,
fuck ups, within
the list, damn, it's long
"...yet...if...only..i..could"....

change my life...

I'm the only one
who can change my life..

from the inside out,
my mixed up wiring
that misinterprets meanings
that feels so many god damned
poetic, intense feelings...

about shit no one cares
molly ringwald's "fresh horses" poster stare
book of love's, they never made it,
fifth record
tatum o'neal's problematic past,
childhood, chequered...

and all the wounds
and scars of others,
the true friends, not friends
but really lovers

and the men, few, I've fallen
that i make, treat like gods
I'm worshipful
to that rare connect feeling
as in, it's a gift, and i know it
to me profound, so fuck me
"floored, so moved, hit the roof,
through the ceiling"...

met hundreds of guys, in my life,
fucked a third
so when i tell you, it's rare
to feel love,
i honestly give you my word

i may be broken,
but my word is not
all the liars and the loveless
the bullshit they reap,
it cannot be forgot

problem is, i confuse
feeling a sense of love,
at times, for finding it, love
but believe me,
I've paid, twice that price
and so what if my dick gets hard
over being called names
some would say are not so nice...

to each his own
on the "go it alone"
the lucky ones, they find it
with another, that sense of
being so, together, "at home"..

so yes, i am trying
take a true, transforming look inside
but the laws of a good man,
i will always strive, no matter how
damaged i am, in my head,
soul, to abide

change the bullshit i perpetuate,
my end
and to the ones i love
who read this shit

thank you, your time,
heart, precious to me,

and real affection, your reflection
of beautiful,

i send.


bowen hart roselli
10 september 2020
ringwald love