i fear
that i am beginning
to feel
the sweetness
of you
flutter
within my
heart
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
drowned in the water
of forgotten lands
where the sails begin to fade
set ablaze by the burnt sun
again the ice remains
to earth -
flee
for it is the fire i wish to escape
the cutting wind caught
on water of gasoline
to earth -
i claim myself
free from ice
the winter long forgotten
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 2:17 PM UTC
the lane is ending
the chaotic plain which i've wandered
calloused feet
bloodied and scabbed
have at last reached
the fields of your keep
the dense forest of your surrounding arms
greet me with every piece of earth
plastered to my feet
easing the ice
easing
eased
at last
i have found peace
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 2:14 PM UTC
my well has begun to dry
the water seeping through the growing cracks
burrowed by the little mice
who carry away the pieces of my structure
allowing the seepage to continue on
until all that's left is dust and bone
my tongue of sand
weighted against formerly flowing words
drowning on the dryness
of severed ties
the water disappoints
now surely i must leave
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 5:59 PM UTC
oppress not upon me your breath
the poison of my solitude
drunken eyes between stilled lines
the strain met by visions of twisted stars
and swaying valleys
like the waves crashing over jagged rocks
turning freedom into smooth lines
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 11:37 AM UTC
the sharpened rose
that seeks the red from blushing cheeks
carries through the night
the scent of wild fire
the singed branches
collapsed within your structure
like the elegant fold of your arms
engraved as if for my hopeless eyes
pallid grey against burnt azul
hopeless as my winter blade
dull upon my earthy plains
of sunken ash
seek not the wet stone
from the fountain pools
seek nothing
for this land flourishes no more
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
i hope you find her
like the endless night
upon your chest
intertwined like the silver constellations
of the summer sky
no longer tainted blue
and with each day
i hope spring finds you
smooth and delicate
as her lips of rose place sweetened petals
upon your cheek
her sun-dried stare wasting not a glance
of your smile
that fades all grief into shadows
but mostly
i hope you will be happy
for i shall be gone again soon
too lost for loving you
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 2:10 AM UTC
When I was younger, I had heard on the news that a man had been stabbed, and subsequently, bled to death. I had never head that expression before: "bled to death"... so what did it mean? I knew that guns and knives = death, the end, but how could you bleed to death?
This is when my mother provided me with an analogy that I have continued to use and develop to this day.
Instead of explaining what it meant, my mother knowing me well, gave me a visual representation (don't worry - no one was harmed in this process!).
My mother took me to the kitchen and took out a ziplock back and a knife. She turned on the tap and placed the bag under a steady flow of water, letting it fill halfway. She explained that the tap represented the human heart (essentially constantly creating new "blood"/water). She then proceeded to "stab" a hole in the bag, allowing some of the water to begin pouring out slowly. The leak was not large and the water coming in from the tap was able to sustain the small hole she had created. She explained that when we bleed from minor injuries, our body is able to keep up with the loss of blood because it's always creating new blood; the body is able to function as long as it has enough. She then began to process of poking more holes in the bag and I watched, wide-eyed, as the tap became unable to keep the bag full. It was from this that I understood; it was from this that I was able to create my own analogy years later...
Now for me, this analogy became most applicable in a recent relationship, but I believe it applies to any sort personal qualms.
We can't become the plastic bag. It is true (and common) that we patch the holes created... and for a while, they will hold. But eventually another hole will be created and a new patch required (see where I'm going with this?). There becomes a point where we're so patched that the water begins to soak through the patches and spill out.
And regardless of how many times we put the smiley-faced patch on the leaky bag, it's still going to have a hole and it's eventually going to start leaking again (a.k.a. just because you pretend everything is OK, doesn't mean that it is because you're not actually resolving anything). This process of patching will eventually burst in your face... you'll be patching and patching and patching, but there will still be that water coming in and holes created.
This may be gruesome (and I've received many the odd look from this specific advice) but you need to be able to rip off those patches, pull out the "bullet" and stitch yourself back up. Let it heal.
Yes, you are going to have a scar, and trust me, it won't be nearly as pretty as that little patch that you would have worn over the hole, but eventually it will fade and all you'll have is a faint pink mark where that hole used to be.
It's not easy and it's not pretty, but hey, wouldn't you rather survive?
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
every word
stands still to fall
the uninterrupted chaos of your lips
seeking another taste
of the disquieting peace
of unopened tension
for the unknown is certain
and the certain is unknown
where the heat of your destruction
becomes the invisible face
of you and i
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC
Kindness fails the circle path of
Abandoned footsteps
Saturated with hope and
Set still upon the night, the
Easy ended flight still
Left for morning
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC