Thirst.

I hold tight to my vices.

Though the saga does taste different in your absence,

It will always remind me of you.

I know this will soon fade,

But the feeling of betrayal will forever linger. 

Day by day, the under gets closer to over.

Yet, your want refuses to give my need the time to move.

You cannot have that without this.

My emotion is what's real.

Nothing is meant to last in the sway of disaster.

So let go.

And let me. 

Fourth.

Loosing independence through my own will has tossed me into the eye of the cyclone.

In the days that flowed into weeks, followed by months,

I lived there, unaware of the confusion fate was waiting to bestow upon me.

What we hear tends to flow past us.

How foolish I was to fly through those words.

In the destruction one thing is clear,

I underestimated the furry of this storm.

Not understanding the severity of its forecasted impact.

Nothing left to do but pick up the remainder of my possessions, and walk away from the wreckage.

I plead for time to help rebuild and fortify my temple from such future atrocities.

Yet I am not able to find all the fractured shards of my love.

So they are sacrificed to experience, and I abandon them in the rubble.

Hoping that her light may one day honor their soft and subtle beats,

That shall echo throughout every corner of eternity.  

Believe.

Believe that things change.

Believe that you mold your own life.

Believe that what happens next is up to you.

Power struggles are useless,

People are individuals and you cannot coltrol anything but your own actions,

Or anyone but yourself.

Make the choice to be happy.

Decide that you want to wake up with a smile everyday.

And hold your loves close, for they may be gone tomorrow. 

Always With Snow.

When it's lost, it's lost.

It has become a hauntingly welcome feeling over the years.

The first tingle at my toes signals the end of a beginning.

A curse has been cast upon me.

Pure emotion floods through my every cell.

Then deception pops up like a blemish, tarnishing all that grew before...

Kiss the Girl

The sun feels cool and calm against the weathered dermis of my casing.

Such a stark contrast to what the liquid pulling cheese-covered-man evokes in the dead of night.

Through translucent matter, the light appears gray as the foreground slowly passes over me.

Every web I come into contact with leaves me in a panic, yet how many of them have I myself formed?

Countless visions shake me daily, as I am caught dreaming with eyes wide open.

Thoughts evolve into actions on the whim of repressed silent desires. 

Their vibrations strike multiple chords, leading to rhythms unknown to what I have become.

I am inclined to recall my journeys  under the sea, where my words became entangled with mystery.

It took another of her race to close me, and until now I did not realize the opening effect that oxygenated circle gifted me with.

Seven years later the resolve has become clear.

The one who can unlock this doorway,

Is lost somewhere in time.

Why must I weigh a different past with my own?

I have blossomed despite countless regrets.

The wisdom I possess must be offered outwardly to every new beginning.

Holding my trials firmly, I begin to embark on an unknown quest, and precede to develop connections based on mutual understanding. 

Cyclone

When I look back, there were no warnings regarding the scales of romantic justice.

Caught on the border of experience and want,

I lose my true north in the cyclone that entraps my thoughts.

Cognizant of my own person,

I understand how my foresight fails me.

Most of the time I only awake in the calm of the eye,

Before I know it, I'm miles above the fertile soil of the ancients.

She may be blind, but it is hard to imagine her lapse in judgement between a serpent and a hare. 

Give into the trust you harbor for me, and I shall  put my speech on the line.

I swear that come Hell or high water, I will cultivate the honor from my heart that you desire.

If one day from behind the curtain I discover a succubus in disguise,

Be forewarned,

My kindness ceases there.

Routine

Looks like I stayed awake too long again.

I'm better off without you and your condescending appreciation.

Too many hours behind the wheel only mirror the amount of time my mind raced to stay by your side.

You should have listened when I said that I did not want to know.

The quickest words to crawl up and blossom do not even begin to paint your portrait.

My lungs feel clean in this absence.

At least.. I know who I am.

Wasted Winter Breath

Eight years later and your deception still glows the same in the night.

Who do you think I am?

How deep does your ignorance run?

Blacklisted from the remainder of my existence.

Good luck climbing out of that quicksand.

All those songs you quote reveal just how lost you are.

The storms never stop, they just pause for a moment so that the clouds can gather more tears.

Heart

 I can count five times throughout my development that a swift punch in the mouth to my oppressors would have ended the torment forced upon me. Taking the path my single mother laid crumbs to follow, I have found that by withholding my clenched white knuckles, my mind rests at ease with the need for redemption from physical acts. The one area that has plagued my splintered consciousness (ironically) rests within the once fractured hearts of women.

 During moments that strike at me out of a blue sky, I am filled with remorse for the abandonment my words have caused, and for the separation of many once singular twin heartbeats. Over the years many contacts have been made acknowledging my wrongdoing, and I was met with a fucked up form of understanding. I never thought of myself as a heartbreaker, but it's weird the ways we can surprise ourselves.

 I will always remember the small forms of kindness that others have shed for me. I'm to old to hold a grudge, and am glad that I have never spilled another's blood. I'm still alive, I just hope that karma is finally done with me.

Safety

The sticking point fosters weight so monumental that these clockwork motions are of no use.

Though the effort has more than doubled, the contact refuses to shift even an inch...

Tension

When inspiration is lacking and I cannot find it in the daily motions of life, I page through my failures, and am humbled when I see where the cravings have crumbled.

5 1 17

Born into it recycled through my innocent actions.

Held over me like an umbrella,

with no rain or sun to provide shelter from.

It weighs me down, like memories from a past life.

The room is dark but for a red light.

The chemical mixture reveals images frozen in time.

More than halfway there, but that says little when I'm 30 years into a 50 year journey.

All these sad songs and fading graphite keep me trapped in a loop.

Trudging through all those drunken memories, I can't help but question how much of it was real.

The images passed over screen and the warmth shared like silverware in a drawer.

My experiences were always playing catch-up to those around me.

I used my skills to construct a makeshift raft, and now spend discarded hours searching for my lost companion. 

Frozen Sun

The frozen sun takes my sight in exchange for that rare comfortable silence.

Days turn to years as my life falls month after month from the calendar.

Am I waiting for the wait, or for a return?

Do I desire redemption for those broken moments?

I sit and ponder as tomorrow tumbles past me.

No longer breathing in the seconds, another me takes over.

I always took what I could get,

Until another did the same.

Temptation

The tools we use to clean up.

Mine gather dust in a rusty can.

Self destruct just to find new ways of repair.

Dropping pixels that lead back to me.

(shameful)

Alone and only alone inspiration holds me tight,

Though never there when I wake.

My interpretation of a one night stand.

(I have never been one to jump with mind closed,

Into the cover of another).

I’ve held back more times than I care to share.

Knowing myself, it is better if I refrain,

For my heart has always ruled over my mind.

Three and 1/2

When it was wrong, my words felt so right.

The tinted sky opened up and let loose its orphans.

Baptized with each hit.

Grouping together from the gift of gravity.

No cover needed.

After the 3rd and before the fourth, I recovered my individuality.

Reassurance was given in the fact that I have yet to look my age.

I pass time exploring the storms on the tips of creativity.

Once lust met respect, behaviors changed.

Now tongue-tied,

Blank stare,

Rambling,

Nervously tripping over myself,

And waiting for the eye roll to slide in.

Yet always honest.

Since the day I found the journey was my destination,

I have never stopped living my truth.

Unexpected

My hand drips with nervous anticipation.
It does not matter,
As the same is experienced by destiny’s left.

Ironic that this existence now brings me what I left broken.
I was so confident that I had satisfied all my dues,
But it looks like there are more sins to be paid for.

I do not desire power or influence.
All I want is to feel alive,
And remember why I chose to come back.

21

It couldn’t have been anymore clear.
Statements made from self-righteous empowerment.
No amount of present alterations could untwist what has been swept away.

Though the ladder lacks height, I cannot stop now.
So tiny my understanding must have been to even fathom climbing back down.
I remove my belt and tear away at cloth (clearly not worth the coverage) just to arrive.
The door pulsed a jar from some silent force.
Just.
Inches.
Away.

A face.
The one I‘ve kept closer then my enemies,
Will never great mine in the morning.
But when I am drowning in my sleep,
She is always there to pull me up.

Patchwork Heart

Blessings depart untrue from the heavens.
Those beings cloaked in light, casting their dark intent before me,
Were unnecessary from the start.
 
My secret admirer essence has run dry.
Stalled since I could drive.
I now suppress the stuttering beat of my patchwork heart.

 

Presently the course has been set for more narcissistic means.

With the jaws of life sharply sinking in,
Certain presumptions are stretching far too thin.

So, I release my hold.

Letting the four winds steal me away,

To a land that time forgot.

Again

The wingspan could not be matched.

Inside the resulting heat, spectacular images echoed.

Gorgeous lullabies emerge from sources less beautiful.

Heads bobbing,

Just above the waterline.

Walking through stories brings a skewed perspective to my waking reality.

Not knowing if the events revolve around factual encounters,

Or tales twisted by those without.

So it is goodbye.

Whirling over and under thoughts past the start.

Worlds that were created inside the pale trap,

Leave me cleaning up awkward feathers of growth.

Every moment that passes,

They soar from my pours.

(How does it feel to not know what you are missing?)

Above The Clouds

As the luminous day transforms into dusk, a fragile balance has been disrupted.

Trapped in the twilight of despair,

In stumbles the bruised man,

Cut twice by others.

The next time I wish to conjure up a ghost, I will greet my reflection covered in cloth.

Escape would be simple if these vines could be removed.

Becoming part of the merging light, it is difficult to separate myself from the noise.

The foundation forced its firm influence against my spine,

A gift and burden intertwined.

Blocks only serve as a jumping point,

The challenge is to find one resting above the clouds.

I let the fog cascade through my whispers,

And place old patterns where memory fails.

The shock of seclusion has indubitably left its mark across my senses.

Such beautiful weather for a tragedy.

Bottle of Tomorrow

The message was clear, move forward or the force of the fall would push the knives in deeper.

So I kept moving.

In love with the wait.

Impact of eyes carries the loop that skips on the corner of my time.

Liquid pools,

Unique in its pattern.

Shining like a bird in autumn.

Confusion settles while searching for transport.

In the moments that precede the cutoff, I reflect on the night’s journey.

Black and green have always pulled me since there was trouble in China.

I cannot detail what explodes in my presence.

For now it is better that the ether holds it close.

A least something does.

These arms have lost their will to rise,

The desire is there, but my conscious keeps it in check.

Always in check.

Moving forward would set me back, so now I only dream.

16 21 18 9 20 25

Rain dripped from my hair with clarity.

While lying on the grass, I understood why.

Home was where the dragon lives.

Effortless movement on a lonely platform validated my existence.

I showed up with a swollen eye and hair a shade of butterscotch.

So incredibly lost, not having any idea how serious life could be.

Now too much of it has vanished.

I hadn’t thought you’d approach me in the cold,

Or that your glossy speech would even try to put pressure on mine.

I am still wandering, but “at least” I now know what to expect.

The places to run from myself.

How to find absolution in the unknown.

Have I always been troubled,

Or am I simply just trouble?

For Your Consideration

The patterns of light that dance behind my eyelids play tricks on me. In my sleep I clearly see the instructions that have been handed down by vicious and treacherous lovers.

There was one that lifted the doubt in my mind, never misleading me with tales spun from desperation.

Pure candor.

Even when it evaporated on the blacktop, kindness flourished (like the flowers that brought us together).

What is hidden can surface within the right environment.

Now the stage is set, and I must lead the last act, so simple to do,

But I am firm in the knowledge that once it is displayed, the final curtain will fall.

That alone leaves me apprehensive; for I am sure there will be no other engagements after this run has finished.

Her name reflected mine, and I swear that briberies never felt so right.

My brightest days still float in those eyes, and the foolish ramblings born from these lips will forever soar on the breeze.

My muscles beg for rest, but howling corridors of thought call to me, leading me further to some distant destination.

I must endure and raise my head high to see the glory falling all around me.

The way it is, is like none before.
I tingle with justice as karma finishes the last of its payments.

I taste mint.

Red

The passion inside has been forced to the top of my essence,

Reveling flames, burning through sacred realization.

Pressed between the pages of time,

The dragonfly has stained my favorite lines.

Words of regret on the still painting of life, haunt the memory of what was.

However, the kinks of freedom (no matter how frightening)

Will give strength in the resolution sure to come.

Unwritten pauses get stuck in ice, and require a push in boots to continue on.

Shame of who I am puzzles me during the eclipse of opportunity.

Just as Orion pursued the seven sisters,

I too am fascinated with the mysticism surrounding the stars.

Unable to venture into the deeper realms of existence,

I procure as much oxygen as I can, and orbit the moon.

Only to get a glimpse of infinity.

Frost

I want to feel serendipity swim through the heat emanating from my shell,

Finally cooling the furnace burning within, and transporting me to what lies beyond this supernova.

Hesitating to start the drive that holds the final farewell,

My mind spins around the target placed in the center of Eden.

I run from the intersecting lines of life, and chose to wander alone, barefoot in these beautiful snowflakes.

Ending at its genesis,

The entire experience has been compressed into the shortest hours I have known.

The only constant in all of my falls has been the frost in the air,

Keeping me suspended, so I am able to move on with the changing season.

I am now Atlas standing tall,

Holding up the heavens with the smallest of my fingers.

Texture

The texture of these pages feels… strange between my fingers. The slight rise of the graphite, the pieces left over from mistakes.. my youth saying hello.
The last entry from my three day hermitage reads:

“4-4-9 4:05pm
I will see things not meant to be seen.
Hear things not meant to be heard.
I will prostrate myself to the wind
And un-become what I have became.”

Throughout the two years that followed, these twin lights witnessed deception first hand
And the double punctures have pounded with hollow guarantees.
Once I did take a leap of faith and trust the invisible force, which brought me crashing face first into the concrete.
After that incident, I was left alone to pick up the shards of my once pure heart.

Yet further back I sent an invitation to someone still unknown.

“11-9-4 2:12pm
Dance with me on the floor of infinity, and lay with me in the sands of time.”

I’ve had a few partners, but we could not anticipate each other’s moves.  Frustration and confusion were ripe in those days. I eventually danced alone, and lead myself to this moment.

My personal history is doing its best to show me truth. But where does truth reside? Every word has a definition, and every definition is filled with words, so the research just repeats. There has to be a way to rise above simple text, and connect to the feeling behind them. I try my best to elevate to a higher level of thinking, but get hung up on the after thoughts. Holding steadfast to the earth for fear that my words will be taken out of context.
I must stop trying and just do.

When spring offers up its first blossom I shall say goodbye to all parts of my past.

One Day

This muse will lay with the others in my private garden, where forget-me-nots and bleeding hearts hold the only color (too much sugar turned the roses and violets gray).

Is it best to leave it all behind?

For now, I sail on through the vast nothingness of the sea. With time I have learned to respect its currents, and through experience, how to spot the sirens before I heard them. Some creatures must be left to their own environment; few have the desire to feel the wind.

Beauty is reflected through actions. It’s not the cause, as the effect is well past the source.

I plead for calm waters and warm sand between my fingers. I dream of the shade, and for shadows to take my own away. The skulls around my wrist remind me that everything decays, yet I continue the search for my heart. When I find it, I will finally be home.

Near

With the lighthouse abandoned, I find that the sea still holds me captive.

Attempting to find another harbor,

My breath is taken by the salty pull of desire.

The watery temptress does nothing to starve me, so into the ocean I go.

Finding the right way to speak was difficult at first,

So we created our own language.

I was left to discover on my own.

There may have been a plan under the surface,

But the trio that surrounds me disappeared.

Getting lost at these depths happens all the time.

You just need to know where the pockets of air hide,

Lest you drown trying to break free.

The Brightest

Years ago I started a new path.

Random events kept it clear.

Although I was not able to travel further than a few feet at a time,

I always knew where the opening was.

Never knowing who I would run into,

The short lived journeys still left me with an eternal smile.

With the onset of time however, complications have arisen.

The once clear ground has now become overrun,
And debris blocks my way.

Feeling like this is my last chance,

I took the next train.

My destination, home.

Unbeknownst to me, there were not enough pieces left to complete the track.

My mind urgently reflects back to a place where I reset.

A time where for seventy-two hours I lived in silence.

The solitude kept bouncing back at me in the darkness.

And the light, well that's a different story.

I take soft pride with the way this came to be.

Yet to be resolved,

But I am certain it will favor a past that holds fewer patches than mine.

Conversations of the immediate future brought me here,

An abrupt distance dragged me further still.

How could I have ever thought about closure,

When that was always the furthest thing from my mind?

Always With Honesty

Always With Honesty

This maze is taking longer than anticipated to navigate.
If I remember correctly from my past accomplishments,
It will also require much patience and a level head.

The feeling of things undone is one I know all too well.
The time that never counted now does,
And with each passing year, moves quicker.

They never tell you that the magic is real.
Silence is not always a sign of abandonment.
Respect in all situations is given.

I am the same, but new.
Each passing month has added a new color to my energy.
Skill sets have improved, but modesty rains over me still.
I do not wish to vanish once again,
But without outside input, I have to believe that I must.

The trick is that there is none, this moment is all there is.
Like every storm, it will end,
And life will return to what it was.

Strange, like there is a life I have not lived.
Unrequited memories ring true with their questions.
I cannot answer them, so I let them long.
One day my mirror will reflect the right light,
And the lost paradise will finally merge with the forsaken future.

Aquarius

Aquarius

Being transported to a simpler line of sight,

Echoes throughout the faint texture in my bones.

Once again grasped by random chance and fate,

The vibe fills every corner of this skin.

That early morning mist,

Once harboring terrors most foul.

Now full of mystery,

(Blue-green electric wonder)

A soft brush of velvet.

The red smile to alert its arrival.

Grace offered up freely,

With affection overflowing.

So much to offer..

Time never intersects in the way that it must.

My own foolish choices,

Block light from the shadows where I reside.

Some things take longer,

With others never meant to be.

Repeating patterns reflect the truth,

Breaking the cycle requires an army.

The whisper of a kiss holds me still.

A statement of seclusion keeps me on my guard.

This ancient feeling stands at attention.

Pure emotion forever by my side.