Swing time is over.
I’m tired and wander through an apocalyptic portal;
albeit a motel.
Landscapes of red dunes brandish the theme and the hot air hits me square in the face.
I am in Modesto.
A classic motif of the 80s dullness ascribed to each room of this Motel 8.
Then there is one room completely covered in everything Hello Kitty. Sanrio is serious.
The bed spread, the rugs, the pictures hung askew with intent
That sent me into a sleep I can only surmise as a coma.
Dreaming to sleep.

She lingers where the silence sleeps,
In breathless hums and eyelid weeps—
A ghost in velvet funeral threads,
Dancing in the static of my head.

I dream her drowned in mirrors cracked,
Smiling with the eyes I never get back.
She speaks in tongue, in fevered sighs,
Each word a wound beneath disguise.

My fingers twitch with phantom touch,
Starved for her... it’s far too much.
She bleeds in shapes across my skin,
And still I beg to let her in.

She once was light—but light decayed,
Now she's the price I always pay.
A veiled eclipse, a lover’s curse,
She’s the better half of every worse.

No pulse—just rhythm, raw and slow,
A symphony of undertow.
I kissed the rot behind her grin,
And built a shrine beneath her sin.

She isn't mine.
She never was.
But I was hers,
And still... because—

The scars she drew are vines, divine.
I drink the venom, call it wine.
She is the ache I can’t outlive.
She took what love refused to give.

She isn't real.
But she's the only thing I feel.

The sky is dark and gray,
with little hints of fading rays.
My jeans are soaked from the stubborn rain
as I move through traffic’s lane.

Loneliness hums in quiet loops,
My mind rewinds old nested truths.
Perhaps this weather fits me well,
I mutter low, with no one to tell.

I too reach out for something true.
To hold, to keep, to carry through.
To feel, to fly, to simply be,
Like wind-swept grass that runs with me.

And maybe hope’s still in my chest.
A part of me that never left.

there’s a reason
i haven’t kept
my photos of her
within reach.
yet, i watch myself
get torn apart
on the pixelated screen
of dreams long lost.

i’m on my knees
begging my brain
to stop doing this to me.

she's not coming back.

love should know better,
than to dress itself in cruelty.

I love you like a wind-
That never breezed
My warmth for you is like a winter
That wouldn't get too cold

A love so kind and caring
Like a bird spreading its wings
And a dog running free
Perhaps a bee that keeps its stings

I love the sun a little more-
When you're around to watch
I love the pouring rain
Or the stars I cannot touch.

My nights
float between sleep
and
sounds around me—
my mind drifting
to the shores of rest
and the isles of wakefulness
until I open my eyes
only to wish them
closed again.

Dreams entangle and untangle,
Melding a mess of what is, what was,
And whatever will be.

Makes sure and unsure
Between what’s near and what’s far—
A state of certainty and uncertainty.

Hours will pass, years and centuries,
And repeat for eons, repeat for eternity.

Shed your worries and fret not,
Because you shall dive
Into a world without history.

Search not there for holy nor for divine—
You are the god,
All-mighty entity.

Create and destroy all that you want,
Merge with matter and with energy.

In this place, nothing’s strange nor is bizarre—
It’s all just a dream,
And you are dreaming peacefully.