the bottom of a bottle fails to satisfy my thirst for happiness

In the mind lies a field
Where dreams and wishes walk to their death
Where sensation and emotion inhale their last breath
And as demons play with shovels and dirt, all these thoughts are sealed

                                                                                      In your eyes there is light
                                               That has nay flicker, for it only glimmers bright
                   The sun that provides warmth for the poor citizens of my mind
                                                          Is trapped in irises of aqua tints, confined

                                            Meet me in the middle
                        Somewhere between mania and depression
                     Let your medicinal tongue solve this sad riddle
             For I can't look at another calendar and ponder this question

             *Will tomorrow be the day that the sun rises without me?

its in this moment you are time and i am limitless
golden hands rock a notch to the right as you hear tick, tick, tick..
but my golden hands have all but fallen off
suspended over the deep oak hardwood that embeds your etched-in name
i'll carve out this memento so i can finally be free from your rule
and fly in flocks of freedom
high up above seas of clouds
as spare sunlight passes through me onto the rest of the world
from my transparent soul
its in this moment
i let go
and am seen only in photos and heard of only in ancient voicemails
lay the final heap of sod over my coffin of deep oak
and let go with me, into the roots of liberty
into the soil of peace

Intricate strings
    Bend with cracked cellar light
            Revealing a dancing spider
                                 Cowering in fright
                                                                                                Delicate eyes
                                                               Consume cracked cellar light
                                                 Noticing a terrifying arachnid
                                 Crushing it with might

grains of salt slip into fractured flesh
I lay flattened into the sand as pelicans soar overhead
patiently waiting for the tide to reel me in and claim me as it's fish
my splintered skin throbs scarlet with memories
as I let the current wash my wounds and take those thoughts into the blue
cuts with contours whose rivers run red with murky mixtures of joy and sorrow
examining blistering burns that sizzle and sear
ocean waters cool the scathing brands you planted on me
in this process, nostalgic steam arises as old days are recalled
and past scars reemerge as fresh as the day I first heard those 3 words
but now it's all being washed away
all of the "our's" are once again only mine
because I no longer float in the aqua of your eyes
so in a moment of melancholy, I release my steady grip on your hand
and your fingers slide away, gliding against my palm
now, I disappear
now, I sink

I can't help but notice
A rift in our ways
As my eyes grow sleepy
When they are matched with yours

My lips have been touched with snowflakes
Numb to the taste of a past love
And my heart beats slower now
When you tell me you love me

Again and again
The distance of emotion
The collapse of passion
Be like the winds of the spring, and leave with the rain

let us wage a war
with our patterned syllables
you're next, it's loaded

lavender lilies deceive
for it was merely the color i was sent to retrieve
instead i come up with lilacs, at least i do believe
holding onto the wrong shade of purple while i grieve
but then again, we've been through this before, i am naive

blue skies mystify
wandering innocent eyes
in our youth we hid in simple spots
proving quite unwise
wrapped in disguise, we had to shield our unwanted sapphire cries

green blades rest in your gentle hands
as we've grown old enough to resist parental commands
sharing cold cans, i send a kiss in your direction, confident in wherever it lands
we laugh, and soon enough, my favorite toy had become your delicate blonde strands

red love sears on my skin
burns that leave joyous scars thin
but at any moment an obnoxious grin
can quickly turn to "where have you been?"
i buried those bad days with glasses of gin
but even through hard times i knew if i had you, i could win

but one day under a yellow sun
disheveled doctors told me there was nothing that they could've done
your days were limited, and i cried every last one
i lost my appetite and only craved the metal of a gun
but i knew that your favorite flower would help me outrun
these demons who weight on my vulnerable shoulders in tons

so a lavender lily i sought out to explore
but instead i found a lilac, in the valley near the foam of the shore
reminding me you were never just one thing, but so much more
so let these petals sum up what this poem speaks for
all the colors i saw in your,
heart

you inhale more smoke
taking more small steps to death
to feel more alive

Fractured pavement leaves chipped grooves
Splintered fingers and dwindling expectations
Beads of sweat slither down a revealing spine
Bones and movements that have grown all too familiar

This soul wishes to detach and disappear
To smoke away the memories and gaze at the simple blackness in the flames that take them away
Lungs that combust with dreadful explosions
As the fuel from your aura ignites with flammable words

And so I write
*To watch you burn

silent carnivorous savage,
                                          why prey upon our innocent flesh?
streamlining your black venom into fragile veins,
                                          sparse roots multiplying sickness

this lack of color that you provide
drains the blues
                    and reds
                    and yellows,
                  until 4 white hospital walls remain,
and in this bland, neutral palace of death,
                  the beeps of machines
and cries of heartbroken families serve to torture

this, the true fashion of your killing . . .
          no, not the mass piling of amounting dead cells,
but this blood,                                     it's not just blood anymore,
                            crimson liquid melancholy,
traveling into a mind that can only construct horrible images,
                                         groups of mourners surrounding a single grave,
                           wiping Sunday's tears against their pale faces

gnawing away at the slabs of sanity,
                                           concrete and brick,
the image of a young boy with a shovel
                                           far too heavy for him,
using all of his strength to catapult dirt over a casket,
                                           burying his vital innocence,
into the unforgiving soil where it will never be retrieved

how many tears must you taste for your thirst to be quenched?
how many lives must you waste as our friends are entrenched?

why, cancer?

crashing waves comfort cold feet embedded in sand
adjacent to the lake-house and beneath the weeping willow
the tide falls along with the sun and a silence is brewed
until twisting vines of old christmas lights are sparked on the gazebo
a rush of noise and voices begins to fill the void that the night provides
whispers of love circulate among singing crickets and dancing frogs
eyes grow wide with the promise of an endless adventure once his hand is taken
and quiet footsteps become running stomps of laughter and joy into unknown lands
the two disappear from sight and agree not to look back

please* innocent one,
ignore my calls,
my shy glances,
my kind gestures,
i prey on you simply with lustful intentions,
because my sinning self is just as lonely,
just as scared of dying with no one to mourn for me,
and your body as it lay next to mine is so comforting,
yet, soon enough I'll still feel like I am alone,
even when your fingers are dancing crickets in my hair,
and your lightning bug eyes that flash hope within a dark world will soon burn out,
because my body rejects true love,
for it cannot feel such a blessing,
so save yourself now,
leave me before you are just as lonely as I,
the same way somebody left me,
because the world desperately needs your eyes,
as mine have already adjusted to gray

gravity keeps me planted next to you
i love gravity

Fluorescent lights
Above a hospital bed
Monotone sound, dead

I love you brother
Listen closely to my words
Your soul remains lit

my father left on a Thursday
and we buried him on a Sunday
i'd never witnessed an earth so dull
the colors didn't explode and combust
the music didn't serenade and echo
no,
the clouds just poured and poured and poured again
mother said the angels were crying because they didn't want him this soon
their tears fell through the crevasses of a black sky
and my life became a silent film
my eyes could only see tones of grey
and as i removed my small hand from an oversized coat that belonged to him
i held onto the cherry wood of a coffin
i looked into it to see the black and white reflection of a small boy whose sadness could not be defined

and a decade later on Sunday the 8th of the bitter cold month of February
i wake up with colorless vision
and become deaf for the day
i revisit your grave
and the other mourners look on at me
a little child transformed once again
weeping in the warmth of a jacket that only seems to grow larger with time
and the angels can't help but to cry again
their pain reverberates throughout the field of death that appears to have no definite end
i peer over the gray hill of gray tombstones
and my eyes glaze over with a sheet of liquid melancholy
because i realize everyone has their own February the 8th

Eyes
I'm sorry for forcing you to endure such demanding labor
For flooding your irrigation gates with salty tides of woeful cries
For impairing your vision as loneliness takes human form and riverwalks across your irises
Please, forgive *me

Mind
I'm sorry for causing you to overthink constantly
For saturating your fields of knowledge with dangerous negative thoughts
For bullying you with these words and questioning your sanity
Please, forgive me

Heart
I'm sorry for bruising and blackening your core
For halting the flow of electric passion between your chambers and preventing your ability to attach with the strings of another
For fueling your disappointment over and over again, yet you still exhaustingly pump and beat for me
Please, forgive me

Soul
I'm sorry for draining the waters from your wells of hope
For leaving you hollow, I can hear your echoes of misery
For dehydrating you of joy and penetrating your walls with shards of dejection, I can feel you slowly dying inside of me
Please, forgive me

You
You've created a villain of despair
Who forges anger and depression upon himself
You've given me the tools to destroy my body from the inside out
Yet, my body is still running on the reserves of our recycled love
So just come to me, and tell me you're sorry
Please, I want to forgive *you

I have used all the energy left in my gaunt body to escape this bed

Now I travel down steps that creak with noises of our past love as we wore them out by always racing each other up them to get here

Now I trudge down these stairs, alone, into the kitchen as I let the white french doors swing open to let the spring breeze join me

The wind recoils off of my pale face as I hold the cheesy tourist coffee mug that still bares your lipstick on its brim

I return back to the table where I find the morning newspaper with a date on it that reveals I haven't left the house in quite some time

And I flip to the crossword puzzle that apparently you solved many weeks ago, but the clues are hidden as I now recall the day your pen exploded in boisterous blue ink and we laughed together as we scrubbed each other's hands

Sink water splashed all over and ruined your flowing white gown, but that was no issue as we danced like it was raining and my hand creeped along your collarbone onto your shoulder, until you slapped it away because it was time for work

After brief lapses of intoxicating joy, the color in the walls and outside the windows oozes down Earth's canvas to uncover the true flavor or black and gray that surround me

It's in this return to reality that I utilize my lasts bits of sanity and avoid the sleeping pills to enter back into my slumber

I make my way back up the hollowed-out steps that are void of love, and collapse back into this bed as I drown in it's disturbingly comfortable sheets and pillows

In a few hours I'll arise again to trudge down to the kitchen and see if you're there, smiling, singing, solving strenuous puzzles with your immeasurable skill

And on the precipice of madness, the brink of lunacy, I'll whisper your name so I can stop tip-toeing along the boarder of suicide

For in these repeating nightmares, my balance has grown weary, and for moments my only desire is to join you beneath society, and into the great beyond

*Goodnight

lay numb in the snow
gazing at your future home
waiting for release

If you could see me now,
guarded in conviction
and hidden along my own invisible trail
you would know all the immeasurable times your name rings like a melody through my mind
and your smile splattered on canvas in my thoughts

the cold days I burrow myself in bed and stare at the ceiling…
there is no nothingness more horrible than space without you
and no nothingness more pleasant than the comfortable silence as I’m along your side

If you could see me now,
I would be weeping at an unmarked tombstone
recalling fateful memories that never occurred
and with you, making the ones that were yet to happen

If you could see me now,
I’d hold you tight, fragile glass against my chest
and your soothing warmth would never escape my grasp again

If you could see me now,**
my eyes would be matched with that of yours
and I’d never look elsewhere again

i peer out from my bedroom
to see the same tree standing alone
covered in moss, wilted branches, no leaves
this tree is dying
but this tree cannot voice its pain
this tree is deeply rooted in the ground, knotted with fungus eating it away
nature has destroyed both of us
but this tree cannot chop itself down
so i shall hang from the best branch left
that way someone will have to chop us both to the ground
and we'll have worked together to end the other's hurt
its rotting wood can be salvaged into a coffin
and we can rest beneath the soil where nature cannot get us

i am lost,
in the most dense of forests,
deepest of oceans,
and the most opaque of fogs.
search for me,
and you will become lost yourself.
disappearing through leaves,
drowning beneath the current,
evaporating into the air.
yet,
it will be as if i never went,
i was never found.

Is this what it's like to be dead?
Wielding graphite lead as I write sad poems that will never be read
Thrashing and writhing violently in bed, but merely in silence as these words are unsaid
Watching white sheets as they soak up cherry red
Looking on from a distance as weeping people don black threads
Overhearing hesitant and shaky whispers about a boy who bled
Whose overwhelming thoughts were all too much for his head
Now open veins breathe oxygen for the first time and showering streams fall overhead
It's in this stained water I tread, shouting towards the collapsing sky as storm clouds spread
A shaken voice, once again said
Is this what it's like to be dead?

cup it and clasp it
grab and grasp it
firmly, proceed to strike it and stab it
before autumnal flames scatter it like sewer mice
and clouds of thunder become clouds of somber snowy lights
illuminated by the little lamp reflecting off Christmas ornaments
my vacant eyes and their hollow flights
of endless stairs
pitting to a cave of solid ice
i lay in the center
each and every of these numbing nights

come with thee,
into black,
forget thy purpose,
remember thy lack,
scour in loneliness ,
unforgiving winds,
lose thy dreams,
and sensation in thy limbs.

thou shalt not sleep as thou recall all of thy sin,
f'r its the strongest curse in all ye' land,
not the black death, n'r thy's measles,
rath'r its depression, the sickness of thy people,
f'r a man hath nay choice but to give in,
as he hang beneath the churches steeple,
he pens a letter about the illness, warning thy people,
as he explains it'll nev'r defer
you will nev'r be able to feel again,
as im ****'d to announce there is nay cure.

Weaving through a path of dusted rocks and invisible insects
The moonlit earth gleams bright enough for wilting branches to reveal the complex webs of arachnids' homes
Beads of pearlescent rain get lost in translation with tears and streams alike
Skipping monochromatic pebbles and identifying the illustrious ripples that their smooth bodies create
Flightless creatures sit perched on exposed logs, waiting for a chance to reach clouds that taunt them with messages of rain
Stomping elk cause blankets of terra firma to wrap around the approaching claws of wolves
And a distant yelp serves as another's song
The forest at night, an elaborate portrait
Each whipping stroke, a new memory evoked
And this one becomes cast astray with the rest
Lost in translation with tears and streams alike...

Limb by limb he dissolve into the moonless night
Brought to dust, he is carried by unforgiving words into the infinite frontier alleys of black and white
Gravity condenses his remains until it has it just right
And a nebula is formed above immeasurable heights
Elements interact and ignite, for his smite had never been shined quite this bright
Now we will have no choice but to succumb to our ignorant fright!
Everyone will have to recall the plight of his daily flights
He hangs brilliantly in the sky, a dazzling, yet ominous kite
Reminding us of our lack of care for him, as our guilty pupils meet his superb ultraviolet light

However, now he shines above snowcap mountains and red cable cars
Entrapped in somber words coupled with an acoustic guitar
As a funeral director recites his beautiful poetic bars
We mourn him,
He who own the cold wrists fitted with twin scars
Your words will live on, as those in need of guidance will look up to you,
Oh luminous star

gazing out at the waves as they flow
beneath the sky that reflects its hue
not a cloud in the sky
the world painted in deep blue
from figure to ground the quintessence of beauty
the purest form of tranquility
and in this moment i feel immortal
like i can flow just as easy with the waves
so you can see my face when you look up at the sky on a day at the beach
i let go
and i greet the floor of sand in peace
final words bubbles, that only the ocean can repeat

In this moment I've never felt so empty

My heart is a wooden slab being knawed away at by pesky termites that leave unrepairable holes

And my lungs like Swiss cheese that can't seem to give me the oxygen I need in order to rid the lump of sorrow in my throat

It's in this moment that your back has turned to me, as I count your steps and wait to hear the slamming of a car door

I count on you to look back at me and smile, but my hope has again betrayed me, and I realize the last I'll see of you will have been this moment

So I've never felt so empty
I've never felt so alone

broken lips harbor a pale cigarette and untold secrets
some crafted tales, others unfortunately true
disheveled blonde curls scatter near hollow irises
empty vision, devoid of all color from smooth bourbon
as these drunken nights consolidate all of our old stories into one word,
goodbye

blowing smokey kisses into the polluted air
dangling feet, perched above a desolate rusted bridge and clouded waves
whose orange trusses have all but faded
to form a mixed color that matches the scene ahead
the deepening violet summer sky, nearly black and so sticky
tightening its humid grip on trembling fingers
which remove the cancer stick carefully out of sight
in hopes that desperate eyes can convince a lonely mind
that your sillouhette will reveal itself, dancing in swirling smoke
as your faint hand reaches out to invite me to join you
I grab hold with one thought gnawing at my heart
do I give in to your gentle touch,
and slip below the other side of the bridge?

I saw the aurora lights in your eyes
Fresh streams and salty tides
I tasted strawberry fields in your lips
The sweet tongue of coconut as it splits
I swayed the tepid summer grass along your spine,
Gliding leaf petals in your hair, as we sat in the strong branches of this Ponderosa Pine

The place where I now go alone to ponder of you
Today, my vision only grows blurry, as it crowds with a deep population of blue,
The heaviness on my heart of a lighter branch almost spoils this beautiful view,
However, I can trust that this tree will never run from me,
It will stay rooted as promised; it will remain much longer than you

in the coming months the frost will pass
leaving green blades visible and new formed dirt paths
daisies and orchids will rise beneath heaven's light
but you, the wallflower, will wilt like its still winter, crippled in dismal fright
the fear of remaining alone
the fear of not knowing when you will become like the proud flowers that stand vibrant and grown
but as spring turns to summer and the clouds disappear
the wind will pick up, and send another wallflower's pedals through the air
so poor wallflower, do not fret
your roots have the strength of 1000 roses
the kind of beauty that could be carved into statuette  
you will survive when there is no rain
because you understand loneliness and unprecedented pain
so stay calm, oh wavering friend
water will still seep through your timid veins
and your brilliance will shine, even if its tangled in your inhibited chains

burning rubber
a tragic memory engrained
into charcoal pavement
2 souls
nevermore
a community flooded
in collective tears
crashing rapids
against concrete curbs
summer's glow all but molded
graphite and gray
far too young
a tragic day

The snowflakes have fallen on my cheek,
The time of year when the sun goes to sleep,
All is joyful,
All is white,
Except for the one who is alone,
Beneath the Christmas light.

Humming soft carols under the desolate tree,
Drinking cocoa by myself,
Walks through the town,
With no one else.

Winter has come,
And taken away,
All of the bliss in my days.

I see people hand in hand,
Mittens and jackets through the snowy wonderland,
It makes me see how solitary
I really am,
It makes me wonder,
What was God’s plan?

If my memory could disintegrate to ash speckles
Expect that a dazzling fire would be set ablaze to the flora of my mind
I'd scatter and pinch the black bits in the nectar of flowers
Watching unsuspecting bees take them away into the spring air
So when others are stung by pesky wasps and buzzing yellow-jackets
Their wounds will swell red with your name
A passing boy will wear your welt while I run on this sunny day
And as I attempt to read it, I'll have unknown gratuity that I can't process it's significance

A balloon cast astray by the wavering hand of a child
Who wishes to know the latex orb filled with helium can fly
But in the moment of segregation between the tips of his small fingers and the floating object's delicate string
He discovers regret for the first time in his short life
The feeling that will haunt him far past his young years and into adulthood
Yet, it's only in these latter years of his life
That he'll also discover he is envious of his abilities as a boy
For he could let go then, easier than ever
And today, he is forced to grasp his wife's bony fingers with a wrinkled hand of his own
As today, the only delicate strings in life are the wires and tubes that travel through her
In this moment he realizes he must travel back in time
To relearn how to release his balloon
As he wishes for nothing more than to let her fly in peace
But he doesn't possess the strength to watch her float away

the wooden hinge creaks as its rotting frame grows weak
a delicate hand reaches into the void, brandishing into the cold, open space
reaching for something, anything to grab onto
the bitter air latches onto each finger, burning dry skin with flames of ice
the boy’s hand jolts back, as he blows on it with his relieving breath
his unspoiled heart and untampered mind
they convince his short legs to strut back, away from the unknown
so he returns to his comforting quarters, and in short time forgets this day entirely

years later, the boy is now a young man
the splintered door is all but collapsed from its hinge
with his courage further developed, he walks out into the cold, open space
he scans the area, squinting to his left and right
in a matter of seconds, a gust of wind picks up and begins throwing pieces of the white blanket every which way
the bravery that once existed quickly sinks to fear
his vision impaired, the teenager slowly begins to walk back
as he stumbles backward, he feels the tips of numb fingers scraping against his ankles
he now begins to run blind, his liquid tears turning solid before they are able to roll down his cheek
as he trudges through the frozen land, a hand manages to clasp onto his leg
in horror, the young man looks down and sees hollow eyes matching his gaze
“help"
but he jerks his leg away, and smack! he hits his back against the crumbling door, rolling back into his comforting quarters
he is safe, but the door no longer stands to protect him

many more years pass by, and a grown man dons a full beard
without the door to hold back the outside world, over time, the sharp air has slowly turned his once heated body very cold
lonely, the man willingly walks back into the space, knowing what waits ahead
he takes his steps further and further until he begins to feel the field of hands that lay above the ground, flowers without proper care
the dead establish a firm grip around his feet, and begin to pull him below the earth
unnerved, the man takes in the blank space around him as he descends lower and lower
the rays of the sun glint golden speckles onto the ground
and the reflected light attaches itself to a small body approaching the man ahead
he screams, crying
warning the short figure to turn back,
“no! not now! not this soon!”
he is up to his neck in the compact snow
the restraint of the snow causes his speech to break,
“y-your.. innocence..b-bui-build a door”
and then, he was gone

in a perplexing, infinite universe
ridden with countless planets uninhabited
and others flourishing with unknown life
within it, remains galaxies left unreachable and unexplored
floating on a boundless sea of black
littered with scatters of scintillating stars
acting as buoys to latch on to when off course amidst a spacewalk adventure
and landmarks to identify direction when lost in the vast array of emptiness

yet, here you are
shining as brilliantly as the celestial bodies that stretch across the canvas of night
and I am lucky enough to be able to latch onto you when I am astray in my own small town
I don't need to sail across an endless space ocean in a nautical journey in search of you
your beams are close enough for me to feel your nourishing warmth at all times
so when you greet me with your exhilarating embrace
we produce a light that shines intensely enough for the whole universe to see
so as the aliens navigate through the currents of deep space
they admire passion that burns brighter than anything of its kind
as they paddle in seamless synchronization
in the direction of our path, to find where we are
small town, planet earth
and they'll settle in here, to what they see as a place that must be incredible
because of you
the compass of the universe
the love of my life

vibrations reverberate
strings and chords collide with paintings on the wall
stage lights oscillate through the dim concert hall

in that brief moment your profile glowed
innocent aqua eyes that froze time
the singer sent sparks through the clouded, smokey air

the most harmonic note settled on your lips
gently weaving the couple strands of hair behind your ear,
i lean in to make music

a hollowed wind rustles paper scraps
blowing ideas along beaten dirt paths
swaying words in vacant coves
moving ink across charcoal roads
syllables blossom over flowering hills
until they finally land on a note next to a bottle of pills
on a deep oak bedside stand
where you can find sleeping remedies clasped in a jittering left hand

and as he fall into darkness to meet his creator
the poet's process is recycled and will be passed along yet again
for his words will travel until they find another suitor
and as a hollow wind picks up in the night
paper scraps are rustled...

parting clouds over the field of wheat
split the gray into a sea of golden rays
bright enough to leave even the blindest man at his feet

passing wind slithers by  
carrying with it seeds and soft cries
tears from the protector of all the crop
the lonely scarecrow who stays planted
his tune the most melancholy of acoustics
a tranquil coffee shop

birds circle frightfully overhead
for they do not know their avoidance leaves the scarecrow all but dead
he who never meant any harm
but who's appearance raises cacophonous alarm

cursing the sky, the scarecrow shouts
yet, the scarecrow will soon get his wish
once his stump dries he will be free with the coming drought
so as the farmer prays for rain,
he questions God's whereabouts