Through the ice
And falling even more.
She’s down there to catch me,
But the icy shards
Are freezing my blood.

A branch sticks out in my path,
Throwing me off balance,
And now I’m no longer falling;

I’m tumbling out of control.
With no idea
How to regain control.

Slashing through
The silver visage
Of a golden dream.
Snapped open
With the clap of a book
That cleanly split an
Eternally unified sky,
And resonated through
This stagnant planet.

Feeling the waves
Fleeing beachside,
Reaching oceanbound.
With feet planted in the ground,
But you’re nowhere to be found
My heart leapt forward
To save that which had drowned
Yet it was too late
You came to comfort,
My worldly hate.

Time, time is a valuable thing;
We never see our seconds sliced
By an archangel’s bladed wing

Dec.28.2019

Time is a relative  concept
I mean, have you ever
Felt like you teleported
From 11:00 to 1:00?
I have.
It’s an awkward mistake
That i all too often make.

Everyone is a ticking time bomb.

Tick tick tick

Each word I make another mistake

Tick tick tick

I feel like I am about to break

Tick tick tick

My well being is in their control...

Tick tick

The day is almost over

Tick tick

I’ve angered them once again

Tick tick

I don’t know what I did

Tick tick

But today,
I’m going up in flame,
Like every day before,
Can’t they just let me go?

TICK

The bell marks the end of another day,

BOOM

Once again
I lie in my blood,
Propped against a cold brick wall,
Wondering what I have done
To deserve all of this pain.

Six and a half hours
Of grueling yard work
Seemed like an eternity
Of endless seconds

Without you.

As my body starts to drag,
My mind starts to wander.

Moving becomes a chore,
And listening is a bore.

I think I’ll just close my eyes,
And fall to the floor.

The path is trying
And the cliff is yet to come.
Some days I will rest
Under the scorching sun.
Some days I will climb
Sweating through the morning mist.

To love,
Is to live with pain each day,
The pain of mistakes
and misconceptions
Will litter your beating mind,
Burning your head at the thought
Of their beauty.

To live and love them
Is to let go of it daily.
All the pain and suffering,
Regrets and remorse,
Let go of it.
Otherwise you’ll end up
With rosy cuts in your arm
And venomous thoughts,
That cloud your delicately
lovestruck mind.

Live to love,
And love to live.
Let go of what you love,
But never let go of your life.

Following the flow
Of the common track
The boy begins crack.
With eyes succinctly averted
And attention neglected,
fissures begin to grow.

A shout
A sprint
A line
Ran through.
A life
Forgotten.

A life
Renewed.

I wish
Whenever I entered
My washroom of judgement,
I could look in the mirror
And question:
“Who is that handsom SOB?”

Instead,
I think of 6 random dudes.
Three look better than I do,
And three look worse,
But the latter all have girlfriends.

As we got up and took our first step,
I looked at him, and he looked at me.
A silent nod exchanged in unison,
To convey our undying trust
To convey our unspoken love.

Trust is a two way handshake

A spike;
Cold, torturous,
And reminiscent
of the eternal void.

The void is a reflection
Of what lies inside me.
Relinquishing the reigns,
I let my demise
Become the torture
For my miserable actions.

A push back to reality,
A play full of comity,
And a couple of songs,
Brought end to the calamity.

Still in disarray,
My body will pay
For tricking me
In such an awful way.

Where I might go?
I do not know,
But I feel that I’ll start to
Follow my blood’s flow.

Love is controllable,
I had it under my thumb.
Way back when, I liked someone,
But I switched my object of obsession,
In order to avoid imminent depression.
But That was just an interest; a fancy,
Now what I have is beyond my control,
Not only that, but it’s in a realm I cannot see.
So I’m stuck in this desolate, claustrophobic hole,
With no latter or rope to speak praise of,
I want to send myself a white dove,
And control or remove this hellish love.

Brown seaweed
Sliding in the echo
Of a siren’s long lost lament.

Through the ocean
Not a sound shall break
The fragile fabric of silence;
It shall stand for an eternity.

A dulling gold plain
split into many pieces
by the high tide water.
The water flows steadily,
a rather small motion
that breaks the illusion
of stagnant salty ice.

the concrete bridge
stands like a gravestone;
marking the time of old,
and barely intact
to see the present hour.

The unfiltered sun
shines ever so brightly,
as if a golden amber blanket
is lain caringly upon
this dead winter marsh,

giving it light,
giving it life.

The fruit is to the earth
As is the fruit to the forbidden
I came alive from the tree,
The grace was but to flee.
The truly unforgivable one

Is me.

I became what I ate
And I am now forbidden
And forsaken.

Is it red or gold?
I can no longer see the difference.
They both have meaning, warm and cold,
but I have no background inference.

Red like the fluttering cardinal's feathers,
but with a worldless ocean of depth.
The eminent vitality permeates the countless layers,
and a single look was enough to deftly steal my breath.

but it might as well be a searing gold,
with its sheen of softly sleeping amber.
A vibrancy that boils my blood cold,
and fills my mind with fruitless clamor.

I see it as neither or both.
The gold brings solace, while the red is my reality.
Before the colors flow, I must swear my saving oath,
that the delusion will never end my forlorn vitality.

Unnoticed
Shall these lines lie
But I am at fault.

Little rules:
Syllable count
And weird rhyme scheming
Define these works of mine

I wonder
If anyone
Notices this stuff
In which my mind runs wild
To create this distinct shape.

Brimming with silent
Trepidation, words come not;
‘Cept my wordless thoughts.

Set on the tracks,
following a distant star
on a voyage to the beyond.

Sea after simmering sea,
spiteful morning dawn
after last remaining twilight,
we travel, veiled by the night.

I
Hated
My
Life,
But
You
Saved
Me
From
Myself.

From skin to bone,
I shall forever be alone.

Until death...

Until death comes for me,
Rips my existence apart,
Then leaves my body be,
As if he never graced my soul.

Then I will be alone,
And so frigidly, rigidly cold.

It is of a faintest hope I hold,
That I will not be alone
In the painfully adjacent future.

As the humid summer days
Sift into the crisp autumn nights,
Like the shimmering sands
Of a young hourglass,
She longs to once again
Feel the raging warmth
Of the midsummer sun.

Like dancing lights
And fluttering sprites;
Multiplying together
And dividing apart.

They rend the veil of night,
Creating a short-lived spectacle
Before these stars take flight.

The vile thorn
Piercing like an unseen razor.
Infecting the wound
Like a midsummer overcast;
Sudden and volatile.

It whips and warps you,
A slight touch of the thorn;
A graze with death’s finger.

Within my mind the thorn resides,
An affliction to my mind.

I am dull,
I am vile.

Decompression overwhelms
Concrete mentalities,
Shattering them
Like false glass.

Heavy is the head
That dawns the crown;
An anchor of lead,
Pulling us down.

Oct.25.2019

Sammie, it annoys me
That you called my question sweet
It’s not you, it’s me.

What to think of it?
It confuses me so much
Know that I love you!

As long as my heart keeps beating,
It will keep unrequitedly loving.

As the gloomish clouds
Silently weep,
The world darkens
And we fall towards sleep.

Like a solitary tree in a silent plain
Awaiting the blight; the everlasting rain.
Life has come and gone;
The span of a second
With the grace of a swan
Like a shrouded mosaic
The mist reveals piece by piece;
A picture is formed
Of a concrete world,
Built on the fragile sands of time.

Vapors stand in strands,
Left to stain the sky.
Showing like an open wound,
Left behind by the wind’s talons.
Bleak and gray,
They insist on remaining;
Watching me fray;
Watching my silent decay.

Among life’s bountiful fruit,
The silent world is absolute.

A shimmering thunderclap
Shines across a million seas.
I stand landlocked,
Left to count the endless leaves.

The golem’s silent lament
Leaves the lightning to grieve.
The execution of silence
Set to be, without reprieve.

Like a sopping wet leaf,
Floats in the northern oceans,
As if it is a single drop of blood
In an autumn wheat field,
The echoes of reality reach deaf ears
As the final leaf falls,
Silently,
From its hibernating host.

Scorching the clouds
Like a fuming inferno,
Only to be smothered
Without a moment to breathe.

Highlighting the bleak gray
With layerings of radiant white.

The purest form of energy;
Destroying all it touches directly.

Through the mist
A quiet voice echoes;
A booming announcement,
Following a silent predicament.

Calling upon the dormant engine,
Remembrance has arrived.

He’s back once more;
The icy presence held at the door.
My heat is drained away
Like a fleeting fall leaf,
And all that’s left is an empty shell;
Something he wouldn’t sell.

Why all the meaningless slander?
I know you love me at heart.
There’s everything left for us;
A world of experience to handle.
Take my hand and I’ll show you,
You’ll see a world better than blue.

Lightning streaks overhead,
The wind gouges out my nerves,
Which are shot several times over.

Upon this precipice I stand,
The angels rise up from below.
They carry a banner of despair,
Waving it in my face
With a vexing mirth.

My destitute hands tremble,
As the glistening red rain falls,
Touching them
Ever
So
Slightly.

Upon this precipice I stand,
In fear of this desolate world.
I choose to leave my wounds be,
And wait for death’s vile hand
To scald me with and icy iron brand.

Through smoke, Smog,
And smoldering ashes,
I’ll see this to the end.

Iridescent falls,
An ocean of flying fish.
Behind the charred walls,
Lies life’s perfect dish.

Spreading wings
And releasing feathers,
The dove flies through
A ring of flame.

The scroll of negotiation
Unscathed by the battlefield.

Youthful spring,
Slowly drawing itself towards winter.
We wish it would stay forever,
But time grows old,
As all things do,
And barren days
Arrive in a haze.

All seems lost and lifeless,
But hope is not yet futile,
Because spring lies beyond
The approaching horizon.

Like the sun
Blazing through the sky,
A master swords
Cleaves the fallen knight,
Bringing forth
The golden sunrise
Of a gilded age

Dawn the helm of war,
Nothing else matters anymore.
But when all means
Meet their ends,
Dreams subtly was ashore.
You made this all go away,
But now you’re what I can’t see;
A fading reminder
Of what I used to be.

The tug,
The pull,
The snap.

Giving way to the fall.
Time, flowing like water
Among glittering beaches.

Darkness moves in,
But a flaming defiance
Rises like a screaming gale
Along the gap
Where the string once existed.

In the flames of renewal
A new string is born,
Holding back
With a grip like thorns.

Spiraling in and out
Of a fruitful Existence,
We stand on the brink of life.

Without constraint,
Without boundaries,
Emotion persists
Through the trials of time.

The darkness brings comfort
With a touch of suffocation.
All’s not unwell, though,
For he exists too
Within this space made for two.
Silently peering,
Deathly fearful of rest
Or of a loss of control.

Both of us are but mere parts
To a far greater whole.