A lot has changed since we became free
Motives rearranged when you broke up with me
Resisting cardiac arrest restless nights turned into mourning
We ended it
We ended up
Apart
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
I have come to conclusion
My mind has eluded
I am cursed with incurable hiccups
I constantly wait
For that feeling I hate
Random movement too close to my core
I am constantly scared
Given water not air
I am tired of holding my breath
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
The clinking of seashells underneath my shoe's soles reminds me that even skeletons can be beautiful.
The cadence of the seagulls repeating their calls, brings light to the fact that *** rules all.
The ambient noise that puts some of us to sleep, is the sound of the circle of life, the mating calls of beasts.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
I think of you, my dear, a collection of perfection.
Your extracted sweetness churned into a sugary confection.
Honey forged from honest bees is said to taste the best.
I plan to eat the nectar from your consciousness, ingest.
Purity is known as that which is undisturbed,
Non-Contaminated and original...unfiltered.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 2:16 PM UTC
Isn’t it something that two bodies connected by an unwritten creed, were emotionally trapped but physically freed?
As civil individuals the two gained public recognition, became restricted, by each other’s verbal jurisdiction.
They were paradoxical and fragile in more ways than one, like an albino celebrity, a star that stays away from the sun.
Now they say long distance love mandates communication for jubilation, but they had never been used to such distant segregation.
He wanted to be lint-less, and wanted her not to cling, he wanted to be free, to him this was just a fling.
She wanted to be loved and thought he wanted space, but secretly it killed her, thus the emotion on her face.
Now where I come into play, is relative but strange, seated in a class room that was randomly arranged.
Like the flipping of a coin, the result somewhat unknown, by chance we’d ended up somewhere private, and alone.
So, two bodies connected by an unspeakable pact, were emotionally joined by an extremely physical act.
I'll just leave what happened to the readers imagination...
Nevermind, we ******
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
To flip on the switch is to let light take control
Unseen becomes seen, I'll explore her black hole.
The current will flow, the lightbulb a-glow,
Shadows remain behind objects below.
Yet even in darkness, she shines from within
I finger her switch to make her head spin.
Do shadows appear, when the room is pitch black?
She's tasted the darkness, and will never go back.
Light uses power, while darkness does not,
An obvious statement, or just food for thought?
Remove both my eyes, call me amputee,
I'll never need light for me to see.
Because even in darkness her beauty is there
Turn off the light. I'll still ******* stare.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
Do sleepless nights yield heavy thoughts?
Or do the synapses firing prohibit silent slumber?
Neural highways at traffic jam capacity
Rush hour never ends when I retire
Electrical signals consistently skip and zip
Awake or asleep, thinking or dreaming
Mystifying visions of past, present and future
Entertain the brain while the body refreshes
A blissful recollection of pure jubilation
Transitions the mind into sweet meditation
My alarm becomes a synaptic disturbance
The ears at the receiving end of the siren
Alert, alive, living
But exhausted from the Prednisone Curse
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
That's not a God, that's a sense of entitlement
A sugarcoated dishevelment in disguise
You don't have dreams, just infatuations
Turning hope into self-indulgent lies
I turned away from New York just to know you
Silver showered soldiers singing serene
I turned away from myself just to love you
But I don't think you know what love means
You're not alone, just afraid of isolation
Afraid no one will be better than me
I'm not that great, I say without hesitation
Someone will love you more, just wait and see
My opinion of you changes like the skyline
A star among the cascading dark
Baby, don't let yourself flame out
Before the rest of your fire starts
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
Swaying ever so slightly in the ever so slight breeze
With no competition and an abundance of leaves,
The limbs stretch out horizontal with ease.
Saggy branches cast shadows ever changing not still,
Surrounding the ground at the base of Greg's mill.
The death of the farmer, an absence of relation
Resulted the rotting of wood and the estates decimation.
From the numberless seasons of decay and neglect
The mill, exhausted from age is still somehow *****
Thick grass and means weeds form a bush-like combination
That blankets the mills base and destroys the foundation.
Dilapidated, homely and a touch out of place
With time, the farm, a memory will be easy to erase.
Things will run their course, land and estate will all fade
For nothing can escape Mother Natures crusade
A thought thats ironic and slightly more grim
Is the fact that Greg's creation has outlasted him.
Since immortality is a myth that She will never permit.
Soon the mill will be gone like the farmer who created it.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
Though I appreciate art, the likes of Romel, and Van Gogh,
Why waste a simple blip of time staring at a photo?
When I can just call out her name, feel her warmth, see her face.
You can't close something that was never opened in the first place.
Hence this album, not displayed, was aged beyond it's looks,
It didn't even ware, we only opened other books.
With no need to reminisce and new moments being made,
We'd always been together, strong connections never fade.
But now I sit here solitary, all alone, a noble gas,
Flipping pages, gazing slowly through a book about our past.
My poetic voice was turned to slur, it left me, effervescence,
Her attitude, the glow she had; demeanor luminescent.
Was it her winning grin and perfect skin that gained all my affection;
Or her innocence, so bold, yet pure that warrented protection?
Could it have been her smile, that smile, that made me want to make her laugh?
Yes, that smile, that smile, my lovely perfect other half.
When I humored her, she humored me, we functioned as a pair,
Everything was perfect, pure commitment always fair.
In all our years, in all that time I'd never gotten more,
Butterflies than when she made that look that I adored.
Unfortunately death was something she could not evade
Unfortunately death is never easily delayed.
Looking down and thinking back to the way that things had been
I can't help but shed a tear and ironically still grin.
Though I appreciate art, the likes of the right ear of Van Gogh
This album, now so precious, is all I have to show.
My life became this incomplete on the day this earth she left.
For Life is platinum in a bank, and death is just the theft.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC