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.