This absence follows behind me where I walk;
This absence is pure
This absence is silent
This absence is the white wind I see in my dreams
pushing me forward, continually running
until this absence feels no pain.
This absence is good, with no evil beneath
This absence taught me how to love,
never needing much
This absence was angelic,
this absence died out with light in its presence.
Pay attention to your absence.
Give it love even when it fades to gray
and turns into the wind.
The absence behind me is
golden,
perfect and old
yet a youthful soul
black when your eyes meet
but glorious in its core.
This absence will never leave me.
This absence
will never leave me.

I can remember when sleeping was always pleasant.

It was alleviating my burning heels and loosening my straining eyes, looking forward to crystal dreams, transforming myself into a new dimension every night.

Sleeping was my superpower; it was absolute blackness that created a story from nothing, always making me smile in the yellowing morning.

Tonight, a clean slate just seems frightening.

I have no control over this superpower. It is confusing my sense of presence, swallowing me whole and inverting my perception, and injecting evil into my veins, awakening new sides of me.

I'm hoping the moon stays away tonight.

You are the only thing to remind me
that I can feel more than
just numb. An empty room with you
is ecstasy and I don't need much more than your skin to know
I need you with me.
Watch me as I strip
my soul down to its core
to see the mirroring light
emanating into you, glistening in the amber of your eyes. The sun
granted us love and you are my moon,
the branches in my palms,
the sky in my eyes.
You are there until my years depart, when the earth splits, when light becomes air
I want to be with you when all turns to dust and I will kiss you when the sun rises, when dawn becomes anew in my next life

Two Virgos meet; an occurrence far from promiscuous.
As the ******. Sensual, but modest.
Like silver beauty that would never lose purity, no matter how potentially pleasing she may be.
Quiet,
but touch the right spot, and you’d never hear silence again.
We love shattering the alignment of the planets. Misconfiguring.
It was the one thing that made us clean. It brought me joy. It brought him joy. Exploding together with salty sweat and saliva. Like white constellations bursting at the end of lifetimes, heated by love and light. Becoming one another in hasty motions, fast and slow. Soft and hard. Wet and loud. Slapping, punching, biting, *******, licking, kissing, done.
Losing purity with each stroke, until we reach clarity once again.
So is it irony, or am I just too *****?
The stars make patterns that tell me I am to be slight in my attempts to fornicate. I will be admired for my beauty. My resilience to resist. Resist him, resist her, resist what those will force upon you.
Trust in the skies. The stars expect me to fight this urge. Remain a ******. Stay pure. Do not destroy your youth.
But when two virgos meet, the urge is unbearable. The resistance is no more. Slight eye contact is the way to the soul, the way to become one, to ******, and return.
A brief escape, but we always return.
In the eyes of two virgos is endless pain. I see his when he comes. In his wide eyes, open and forgiving. Vulnerability is what he needs and I see what he cannot hide. We two virgos come together as one. We cannot deny.
These two virgins have vanished and will never be again.
We are two gorgeous arrangements of light reminded to be less.

Is it real or a fable?
Dare I question the existence of myself,
my friend's reality and my
lover's willpower
his father's dignity and my own flaws
when passing times get tired and my tears weigh endlessly on their shoulders
Repetitive roads leading to ends
that I am not prepared to reach
Yet, those close to me are approaching death
and they greet her with open arms.
Apart my soul rips, depart they must.
I recognize their pain, they accept their fates
and I am still
here.
I am still
breathing.
I have this  blood
and two  lungs
and thousands of  dreams
that come alive in my dying sleep
I promise to resurrect
the loss you have endured.
With my life
you will live on.

His spirit is serene
but his mind restless,
a psychotic paradise in his body.
This overlooked haze in the distance
is slowly becoming more foggy.
Days are passing, and he wonders
if the thunder will arise once more.
The bolts of light may awaken him
but will he ever hear the storm roar?
Smooth sailing led by this crazed captain,
his head wild in the sea.
The crashing ocean defeats the wind
and he's never felt more free.

In my freckles and marks are constellations but they only see scars, just cracks in a black sky that poked through that are light years away. Now that shine is dwindling down and I showcase my once lovely light as dead stars. I shake off their long stares as I pass them, they shudder at the sight of my pale midnight, while I'm stargazing the ever-blossoming white twinkle in the arrangement of their stars.

A sickly entrance, barely breathing,
I'm tiptoeing through viridescent dreams
as silent as envy
like her heart's song for me.
I hummed the lyrics in his ear
but she wouldn't dare whistle the melody.
I was greedy for her glory
a dull emerald in my cheeks,
its beginnings as an ember,
doubling in size: a forest fire,
deciding to swallow her whole.
Slimy tears gather in algae pools
drowning in a lime seaside.
Not the slice in your icy margarita,
but the twist in your taste buds
spitting the seeds into her hands.

I am dehydrated grass
singed at the tips
by the scorching sun.
I am the horizon where that sun rests,
the soft transition
of an early evening with a vast
Vermont-like sky.
I am an aged Polaroid photograph,
trapped in a dusty attic,
humble and wise.
I am sour milk, causing
alerted taste buds
and twisted tongues.
But I am also a honeysuckle.
The comfort
hidden in the dark
of the mysterious greenery.
A sip of nature's luscious candy.

Birds of a feather flock together
but what if a feather flies free?
Once protection,
now apart from the mosaic that aided in
colored flight.
The strong spine will tear away
and tickle trembling evergreens.
Perhaps settle upon the shimmering indigo,
the surface of an accepting sea.
A hidden intuition emerging,
embraced with faith endlessly.

keen eyes penetrate you
silver tongues in your sky
you’re the illusion that raised me
that laugh cannot lie
count your life in your giggles
I’ll measure the millions of sunsets
hunting hazel for miles
the horizon empty of our regrets
I become your blankets and sheets
you enter me through my skin
the longest wave right in front of me
my lips stuck to your chin
carnelian dreams ensue in orange
obsidian hopes flourish in black
I look through the jasper to your soul
please never turn back
It might not be love
I might be wrong for you
but you’re not just another passing miracle
and I will never let you fall through

I felt you in my dream. You kissed me twice
and I can’t forget. You don’t know it
but I feel Your skin whenever You’re far
intoxicated in the back seat of that car You whispered
the secrets of Your soul, what I had always wished for
I savored You, You tasted like the ashes she left of You
soft lips like smoking coal after flames die
and my hands in Your hair felt like summertime sand
after the ocean and I cried for You
when I wake I feel closer to You, knowing that at least in my mind
we were together, You were happy
and I’d sleep forever to have Your kiss again

Unknown pasts all collecting in one silent room.
Observers on the outside looking in.
He, a quiet and lonesome boy, only befriending his headphones, besides the loud, obnoxious, outspoken ball of manlike estrogen filling our heads with ignorance.
Bunches of hair can shade my ears from the questions of the clueless.
Unaware of any ounce of confusion lingering in my eyes, just hoping to pounce on a snarky remark of a neighboring mystery.
I never thought it would have ended like this.
My ability to be so comfortable in a room of strange acquaintances, but not so much strangers.
Unexpectedly, I am content with pondering the underneath of his exterior, the inner lining of his flesh that would consequently complete my quest for an answer to my absence of heart.
I'm not surprised that I still remain more curious in the overlooked hypnotic curls than the comb over.

You rarely recollect,
do you remember?

I have recognized your restraint,
your lips spawn lies.
But I still long to listen to you.

You craft cute courtesy
and I corrupt you with compliments.

You need negativity
so I brighten your beauty.

You fought for forced friendship
and I fed the fiend.

You singed any sight of my sweetness,
slowly seared my soft skin.

You chained radiation to my ankles,
now Chernobyl aches in my dismay.

You are poison
pretending to perfect your power over people.

Toxic, tangy, twisting topics,
a tacit trend to train my tongue.

You still melt my healthy heart to hate
and I'll still hope heaven will hold your hand.

I love the burn in my stomach when I give too much life to my newport: never fresh but always filled with light,
a killing spree of my soul.
You are that taste in my toes.
A tingle in my chest that confuses itself with the victim instead of the one that's penetrating my lungs. Purple air kisses you in your gray eyes, turning redder, redder, redder. They remind me of the blood that drained from the sunset when you told me you loved me. The moon might have looked pale that night, but wait three months.
You'll see my face in the blanket above us, in the intimate white stars, and you will never
forget me.
You'll remember my quick breathing whenever you got too loud, hoping
no one would ever find us.
You'll remember my humming along to the radio at 4 am, to all your favorite songs.
You'll remember when my hair was newly blackened with stench from the fire in your backyard, just like your voice in the wintertime. You'll remember me never letting you get too close.
You'll remember that you love me.
You'll remember that you've always have.

He is the screaming wave of a tsunami
absorbed into pavement,
the salt water seeping into the cracks of my skin,
begging for praise
longing for love
not realizing it is causing harm
but once a second tidal wave is born
and takes control of the initial parade of chaos
that is when the water will subside
yet the landscape is left
destroyed
a place once filled with love
stripped of its natural image
and I have no remorse
for the pain of the waves.

In your eyes I see myself and my nights alone when I
              stayed up till six and slept away the days
missing and longing for someone I had yet
to know
I've loved you            since I saw the sun rise
I saw you in the green of the earth
I felt you in the roots of my soul
I heard you in my dreams,
               the only thing I could ever need
                        was inside of you
And I searched through and through in
empty people
        and lonesome souls
for wholeness and love
when I knew all along
                you were right there with me

An old friend turning toxic,
I dream of ejecting her from this blissful vessel.
The black muck when she speaks
now splattered stains on your newly ironed dress shirt.
Moss melting the creases in her teeth:
the decorated corridor for her thoughts now a putrid swamp that once made you smile.
Brittle lashes, cracking and crumbling from icky cosmetics I always despised.
A crust forming on the electric blue eyeshadow
congealing her psychotic stare that leaves me optimistic for her slumber.
But even when in seemingly peaceful sleep, she is screaming in my dreams.
Indigo veins as floss plucking at her gums, crimson dripping down her lips and off her chin.
Her freckles denting her cheeks: sickly chicken pox amidst the blackheads.
A scraggly witches broom pressed into her scalp where her hair would be. It fits her well.
Her hands hot with hatred, concealing a secret only she could know.
She is irreversible.
Her toxicity taking ahold of me: an irrepressible poison to my past, fogging my future.
But she is not what you know.
You are blinded by this auto-pilot, and she steers me into the earth.
Every day, each minute, always breathing, in my dreams, she is the me that you will never see.
And as horrid as she is, and as fearful as I am, I pray she will return to me someday.

My solution so far
is to isolate myself

and stay away. This
has seemed to solve my insides
but destroy
everything around me.

When I am
there
I am gone.
When you are
here
I am gone.
When I am
alone
is when I find
myself

Cleanse the shore,
simmer beneath my soles
cold sea foam kisses, seashells and horseshoes.
Set aflame the desert of our pasts.
Awaken me to new eyes and sore souls, from bruised
minds and crying smiles.
Even when moonlight arrives
the waves will remain
alive.

Your heart clogs my throat and the ***** bleeds through your ears. You’d never listen.
You’ll pour your one night stands in holes and drown them in cement, because they’re the things you’ll hide from me.
Tell me they’re just scars.
You’ll retrace your footsteps and keep that scrapped paper in your back pocket. But hold me once more, and we can shatter the brick wall webbing your fingers against my tears.
You were never supposed to be my dam.
You couldn’t settle for a leaky faucet, and thought you could search for another in the next door waterway.  
Your soul resists communion,
and even holy water
could not cleanse us of this
regret.

She drove aimlessly, but with care, to not disturb the approaching gravel or oncoming headlights from the south bound, or perhaps the straggling pedestrian wobbling down the crosswalk. She knew they did not understand, nor care about the inner lining, the depths, the abyss, of her memories. 

The birds would continue to cleanse the air with song, the bitter city folk would continue to curse the morning dove’s sweet coos, and she would suffer silently in the driver’s seat. Surrounding herself each new day, the same routine, with those who succumb to the hatred and green envy clouding their reality. Them always awaiting her next move, two steps ahead. 

She sees them swiftly maneuver in between traffic, blinded to danger, their heads enveloped into the next hour. Because what was next was all that mattered. And her input was useless. They critiqued her longing for the past, while they lusted for the thought of minutes passing by. 
Still, she proceeded with caution down the cluttered streets, growing more nervous on the edge of each minute. That she might possibly disrupt a neighboring worrier struggling to cross the street. She’d wonder if they would do the same. 
She’d wonder if they would cherish every lasting lullaby from the nearest traffic jam. She’d wonder if they worry about finishing their 24 hours too quickly, or not quick enough.

Or would they cause the head-on collision, colliding two paralleling worlds in this puzzle of an inverted reality, leaving only the faint whisper of tomorrow’s early evening rush hour.

Falling asleep alone is like growing
into something that you do not
recognize
Loving every inch of yourself until
your shadows take over
when the light fades and midnight becomes your sunshine
You are glad to have your own bed to rest your weary eyes
but you know it is not where you belong
And you know this
because you've seen love
You've seen who you are
You've seen who you could be
Being alone
is not a gift
Being alone is nothing
You matter when you are
loved

You’re more than the light I wait for at midnight
when we’re alone and apart
You make my voice heard
in this dead, dumb world
You are each sip of wholesome mint mélange
Never scorching, but smooth and cherished
Because of you, I realize myself
Through your indigo eyes I see everything we can be
Never blue, but like the azure sky,
where we search for our faith
in our futures, far or near
In hopes that perhaps our atoms will realign
so I’ll end up by your side
where our arms will interlock, our souls mesh
our hearts overflow
you’ll be mine, and I will be yours

I ran from the sun
and now I’m homeless.
I ran to the place
with clouds galore;
I sought a new holder of my heart
in storms and thunder
that would pour down
and drench that dried sunshine.
I wanted to be a refugee
in my new hurricanes.
I didn’t miss the dead weeds
and the old trees
but I realized
I would drown
in this downpour.
“You need to heal”, he told me
“The rain needs you.”
But all I could see was that old gray.
My heart was at home
and I never should have left our sunshine
for a cloudy day.

When will it be safe inside your head?
I hear gunshots from your side while the silent screams echo from your lips when you speak
There lies a battlefield among your thoughts,
the war between who you are and who you want to be
Is it safe inside your head?
I crave to revisit the beautiful landscape that once was,
a peaceful serene across your eyes
wiped away into oblivion along with the oceans arising in your tear ducts
overflowing the trenches that lay scattered with your memories of
better days

our lips are sore
black and blue,
beaten down by you
but I missed them so
your fingers should feel like
returning home
but I’m embarking on unfamiliarity
set aflame in this dawning room
its all exposed,
your mistakes and bloodshed.
red follicles in your head are ignited
by my outer blight
when once it mimicked my lipstick
on your inner thigh
so aggressive
yet my neck is passive
in the grip of your knuckles
clenching my teeth
your skin melting in between
rigorous hips
eyes staining my soul
drop by drop
drink up baby

Today,
I am a mountain,
falling victim to nothing but the
wind with a spine like my eldest pine tree.
I inhale strength and reflect courage for all to
admire and climb. Finally, everybody can see me.
When the clouds melt into the sky, that is when I am most
noticed.

If you ever fall from the sky
and become a sand dune,
do not fear the eagerness of the ocean
to envelope you in its gleam.

The pouring rain never seizes to rush
to join the everlasting horizon;
the sun and the moon
trust in the seams of the earth
to never allow them to drown;
the ice cannot singe the waves  
to a harsh silver, it cannot bleach the depression within
there only lie a thin blazing light,
blinding those who doubt the open air,
those who betray the honest breeze of the water,
the true meaning behind your descent.

I'm lying to myself,
but I trust with limitless faith that each day will remain
in my mind,
yet while I search and try to find the fix to this craving
for a day that fulfills this feeling of forgetfulness,
pieces of me are released from my memory
like birthday cards.
Today being the sway of sweet cliches  
sifting through my lips, so lovely
lifting my spirits for high hopes of
happier horizons,
slowly losing their touch
stuffed within the cramped corners of my mind
with the excess "best wishes"
that have no relevance
as the seasons continue to rotate.
Days, ages, as time grays
all discarded and forgotten.

I'm already dead but **** me anyway
**** me until my
bones crumble
skin dissolves
tears resolve my broken
years
Days and days I waited for this,
to see you in my dying light
the way I had always dreamed you would
love me
Love me love me love me
**** me
until my
soul shatters
mind melts
heart cracks and fills up with
you
Because when I'm with you
I know
I've already met death

I feel fingers pressed into the abscess of my throat
the missing pieces from when
I didn't tell you that
I needed you
But tonight I'll sit alone
poking around my throat
discovering new ways to feel pain
My tongue cries,
the strongest muscle in the human body
cannot comprehend
that now, you are but a memory.
I wish I could scream
I wish you could see me dying
I wish you could see this blue
The blue echoing on my lips
The color of the secrets I keep
hidden in the hickeys you left me
to watch as they never seem to ******* fade
no makeup will hide
the fact that you
will never need me
like I needed you

I have the tears of a girl that appreciates the earth it waters.
The soil would be grateful
yet these waves saturate my soul with woe
with whimpers so soft, wishing the lonely sting would dull
the dismal fingerprints that harden my stare,
which they dare not directly gaze.
My reflective pools blind those passing by.
Today, I spit on these sighing waterfalls.
They told me the glacier’s love song was glorious.
But I sojourn, asphyxiating in beauty,
suffocating in once still waters.

I dreamt, and she was there. Raining
down with ease,
feathering the wind with endless time, paving
my asphalt highway
into meadows of green, millions of miles passing inside me
Three words, this Flower said, she asked if I would be
angry, she saw in me this fragrance
I would never shake.
Her thorns sting, the ivy will settle and suffocate
the lively dandelions surrounding her,
but that rose has her place in my garden
that a lily cannot replace.
Flower, don’t forget me.
I gave you life in the shadows,
your gloom left to the moon
when you felt my glow.
Flower, you’ll hide in her moonlight
wait until midnight to come alive,
but you will see that you cannot live
without the radiance
of sunshine.

The remnants of your last cigarette from a few minutes prior lingers on your lips
as I inhale that lasting bitter taste of your sour kiss
that I can't let escape my mind
and I can't help but ask myself if I'm giving you everything I can possibly offer to you
because by the way you look at me
and how your voice trembles when I get too close
I wonder if you miss something
maybe something you've dreamed of
or something that consumes your thoughts on a Friday night
when the concept of sleep is irrelevant
or maybe you're just searching me for that cigarette kiss
that is only found in your daydreams

I am not me.
I am known as my thoughts;
my mind creating, manifesting
itself into communicatory wavelengths
frequently disrupting the patterns of being.
For because I think, I am not.
Only because there is, I am.
The trees, art, light, air are not because I am
I am the trees, art, light, air
and they are me.
Do not dare join me with what poisons my being.
I refuse to fall under my thought’s control.
I choose to be aware, be here
And be among the truth of
Myself.

I live in shades of dreams
craters in my brain make way for the imagination to run
into winds of white and purple mist
Shimmering down through my eyes
to shine the rusting youth that always seemed to lack
luster.
I ask why I could never win the
brilliance
of the skies. Of the hawks flying high with so much pride.
Not too much to discourage the observers
but dignified enough to ignite a craving
for growth.
To prosper.
A pedestal
worthy of winning over my sight.

It demands to be remembered.
It will stain your sight,
you can't see straight.
You'll build barriers and scream when you're blinded.
When it rests, you're attracted to the open atmosphere:
when slumber absorbs the sky.
It's everywhere.
It's contrasting abstractly, like puffy brush strokes.
Yet no one ever seems to notice the light when it's keeping you
alive.

Why do we accept shadows
The sun blocks light in one area and the area behind the obstacle is darker, creating a shadow. But why? Why can't we be pure light that allows us to flow through all that is? Why must there be a negative, a crease in the perfection of life, a never ending dimension of dark right before our eyes

your light
is unattainable
and it never
seems to fade
with you.
to be alone
in myself
is hell
and there is no escape
from this danger
scorching the dreams
of myself.
I am the charred lips
that kiss your hips
before dawn breaks.
do not leave me alone.

why can't I find a way
to love this hell
I put myself in?

it digs me deeper
and deeper
into myself
and you never seem to
fade.

maybe
once I leave this world
you will no longer be a part
of me
but still
I cannot see myself
escaping this dark
without
you.

My blue eyes will stain
your newly ironed dress shirt.
How will you forget?

I miss when you told me
you saw my eyes in your dreams
unraveling your destiny and opening horizons
creating oceans and skies of blue cornea
deep new destinations
in your soul appear
that I could never have experienced before
but I should have known
I’d suffocate in your waves
and I don’t have the courage to fly

I knew his soul wasn't ready. I wandered his shoulders with my touch each night that he wanted to cry and I still couldn't feel his warmth. Yet I wanted to, more than anything. A beautiful face and a clear mind are hard to find, and it was precisely what I needed. His head wasn't ready.
He rid of his name, his curls long gone. I still preferred those hypnotic locks than a combover. And when he came back to earth each morning when the suns rose, I knew he still wasn't with me. He was locked in his dreams, the far away dimension where we kissed for the first time. He knows, I know, and we will not forget.
Crying can solve nothing except to bring him back to me. Tears will only mend our cracked souls. Fear for his mind only leads to love, love in the frightening flickers of death that beat within his eyes. I wish upon him life and love, never fearing for anything except that which he cares for. Because when all is over and the day is done, I will always much rather be feared for than loved.

If you'd let me, I'd shatter this ******* drywall between us because I know our hearts lie in the asbestos within
I don't care if my lungs sing of poison and pain, I would let it rinse my body
kiss my hips like I remember,
if only, for eternity, we were
borderless
no eyes, lips,
only light
never contemplating the prickly afflictions eating our outer lining
we are elsewhere. within
that perfect room that we knew long ago, where we remain
even when our physical forms pass.

Golden roses open, they are prone to resist
when the cold is secure and the wind feels sharp
Harvesting vestigial life in brisk black;
purposeless with rime and yards of yellow
Yet, the lions of springtime will arise
set aflame the dead trees and twigs
No longer numb, but filled
with fire, where sparks fly
We cry tears of honey,
running through the wet dew
with damp cheeks and dismal lashes
when the golden roses rise
and rest our weary feet

On the days you see me smile, 3 inches up there will be blue eyes. Blue love that looks to you in the sweetest of ways and speaks to you in the softest tone. Blue that beckons you to cry with her, no matter the time of day. Blue that reminds you of the night you wanted to drown in your oceans, **** your wings and become the waves that kissed your body. A six-hour-drive-blue that craves a touch of your hazel.

This is the fire that dies when the wood freezes;
when the ground releases the sun is when we will meet again.
In the winter: light December nights
are all we remember.
Sparkling snow and champagne problems
bubbling to the surface of our existence.
Who are we? Where have you been?
Why does your soul dance with flames in the midst of my ice age?
I need your warm. I need your fire.
I am frozen lumber in the middle of
December.

To me, it was nothing but a forced attraction
I needed a filler for my soul,
a soil to fill my cracks and crevices
I pitied him for his self-love, always unrequited love
When I worried about his heartaches and abscission
he worried if he’d get the chance to light up a cigarette
While I pleaded him to live forever, we could be forever
Eternity, like evergreens
I’d wait forever.
The life I planted in his soul was slowly losing touch,
Or perhaps it had never even rooted
The forests flourishing in his eyes
turned to charred dust,
singed to the heart of the land
He burned us down to the single ****
that we are left with to remember
The beautiful landscape that once was
captured in a measly moss
And I am unsure whether to admire the audacity of the wildflower
Or hate him for the ruins that were once my roots

I can no longer wait for my moon to rise.
The lune in my iris screams for renewal
yet the sun is up and morning is nearing.
Dawn will break and my tears will shatter
broken glass falling into the sky
I dissolve into the rising of my future
while the past is still,
silenced in my soul.
I beg for the midnight sky to awaken me
because the moons kiss is worth more
than a sunny day
to me.

All that is left of me is
organs and blood
brains and hatred for those who forgot me.
Looking for that piece of me I lost long ago, when I wronged and rebelled.
I crave wholeness in cigarettes and men, scars and sleep.
I just need
wholeness.
To be whole again. To rid of this hole in my heavens. To renew the youth in my lungs. To restore the glory in my eyes. To cry in lieu of joy, smiles, laughter and infinite hope.