as the time ticks and tocks
i can hear the ever-present
laugh of death and
the cries of life
they speak to me through
the darkness between the
sun falling and rising
they tell a story of
each other battling
for a correct beginning
or a suitable ending
but much like the
change of seasons
neither can decide
which has the ultimate
power to convince
the other of their worldly
powers against us
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC
It’s nearly summer, but I still feel the cold of December;
the frost inside my throat burns more than the sun
hitting the raw wounds on my body, replenishing or
damaging?
cole 5/8/16
Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 12:57 AM UTC
sometimes i can hear myself think
each thought rustling from one
corner to another in this bottomless
pit of my mind; they enter each
chamber stealthier than venom
slithering through your veins;
sometimes i can even hear a
whisper of an idea spark from each
flame
now im a restless fiend who seeks
comfort in the darkest of allies, alleyways
comfier than any bed, nightmares
so real when i wake up it’s as if the
moment between sleep and awake
is prolonged for a century,
purgatory, the lapses of time our lips are not together
bliss, a faint of a second after you moan my name
tragedy, the blink of your eyes as you realize
i belong to no one and yet, everyone belongs
to me
cole 2015
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 11:47 PM UTC
I think in waves. Waves of artificial emotions, deep desires, run-of-the-mill repressed urges. I believe turmoil is the closest thing I have to joining someone in a receptive-giving relationship. Thunderstorms and tornados and every other body of the worst weather run within me. It pleads with the mind to over analyze any sort of life vest. Most of the time what I think is not what I hear or see or feel or touch or taste, these inner workings have a soul of its own. My chest is caving in, falling into its own pool of blood. A strong base will never compare to the weak beams inside each column.
cole 2015
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 11:46 PM UTC
His hands are on my body
and his moans fill the room.
But, somewhere deep down
I’m craving your scent,
I’m awaiting your soft kiss.
It should be your fingertips
and your steady breath
filling the vacancy of this room.
Not the rapid movements
of this boy I barely know.
cole 5/8/16
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
I can almost taste the anguish pushing through the blood in my veins as I recall these fleeting memories. I can almost feel the lighting from the sky run into the nerves of my hand. I'm imagining this kiss because everything is so surreal. Everything around me is flourishing in my body. I can taste much more than just the sweet pull of his lips. I can see into his emotions, playing behind his eyelids. I can feel the temptation that lay there. Each move he makes reverberates throughout my body and I sense a fire reaching from each strand of hair on my body to each blood cell inside my body. I do not want this to stop. I can’t let him stop. We’re as close as we can humanly get but it’s still short of what I want, what we want. I can sense it in his rapid breathing, he doesn’t want to stop either. He’s clawing his way into me with his kneading hands. He’s striving to loosen the very strings of my mind.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 11:47 PM UTC
i do not believe that i was ever going to be enough for you
i’d like to say your glass was half empty and mine, half full
sometimes when i’m staring at the bottom of a bottle, i can
imagine your eyes staring back at me and i can almost hear
you saying my name with worry and anger and pity and care
as i’m brushing my skin, creating a spark, i imagine its your
fingers caressing me, waking me from my hibernation, but,
i have no motivation for leaving this pathway and entering
a sort of hallway of roaring paintings of us, in what i thought
we were, what we could have been, but oh, now as i set this
bottle on the floor and i hear that clang of emptiness echo
i can’t help but relate that sound to the thuds in my chest
each one a sorrow strum of strings playing in agony, they
enjoy making me cry out in anguish, wishing you by my side
cole 5/9/15
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 11:17 PM UTC
There are brief moments in time when I can almost hear you thinking of me. I can feel each thought enter and leave your mind. On some nights these thoughts end quickly, but oh how I cherish the nights in which they last for hours. It almost feels like you miss me. I relish in your absence. How I contradict myself, my thoughts sway between my mind and my heart. But at times, they are lost deep within my chest.
Your eyes haunt me in every single dream. They wake me, slithering between reality and a dark fantasy. I can almost taste the scent which clings onto your body. My body bathes in it whenever you come near. The truth lies deep within the confines of my mind, it sits there, waiting to be played with. It hangs a lock of salmon for my prying teeth to taste.
The truth of, what exactly? How much I care about you? How I wish my name would roll off your lips in the same way your hands touch my body? Can’t you see, with those dreadfully devious eyes, how my heart longs to be in the palm of your hand? Why can’t you feel my soul and not the outer exterior of existence? Am I too rugged? Are you afraid of glass?
Now, I will sit here and allow you to escape your demons through me. I can stand the half-hearted kiss in which you seek. I will reciprocate the way your body moves along mine. I could always scream a word out or two, but never that lovely “I love you.”
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 10:02 PM UTC
i felt the rivers flow through me as
i watched the sun rise thorough
all these clouds that are the colors
of the ocean, they remind me of
the music performed by Beethoven
they remind me of the giggles of a child
i enjoy reflecting nature to life because
everything is connected and one day
when nothing remains of these words
and i’m soaring through the sky
feeling those clouds, i’ll be happy
knowing that all these thoughts were
written down in something that will
cease to exist
cole 5/9/15
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 9:55 PM UTC
i can't fathom into words
how your skin caresses your face
so vibrant the yellow pools
so pink the plums i kiss
so small a rosemary nose
so dark the brows like mine
so white the teeth you lick
a freckles here, a freckle there, splattered
across the rooms of your face
grazing to and fro, running like fire
my finger goes, burning at every corner, yet
blistered and bruised, i still want more
the arms of an army hold a being
with so many emotions; fright, joy, sorrow.
tranquility, serenity, horror
you are the adjectives in my work
you are the dew on a sunny morning
or the foggy most late at night
you are clock's tick and a beetles hum
you speak of wisdom as if you were a-hundred and three
you speak of torture as if your bones were caged in
you tell me that i am a lovely being, but
not the one that makes you sing
cole 3/19/14
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC