When I touched your arm
        Lightly
        That first time
        Just near your shoulder
It floored me
I thought
        This man
This flesh-and-bone man
So close
I suddenly wanted to kiss you --

Your green eyes had already
        Caught me in mesmerizing gaze
I was in your space
Sharing the air between us
You slid your arm around my waist
        I let my knee touch yours --

We were suspended in time
Wide open to each other
It makes me sigh to remember:
How everything came into being
        That night and disappeared
Before the dawn --

There is still time
To appraise my life
The reasons for love
For song
For breath itself
And at the last
For death --

Where I am going is
Where I came from.

But reaper, if you could,
Keep your distance
For now, I should like
To watch the wind
Stir the trees
A bit longer --

Just fractured textures
Excerpts of memories,
Forgotten conjectures

Trapped in space and time;
Just figments of rendered sectors
that I’ve assembled to fabricate
my reality beyond measure

I’m tethered but the pressure
Never lessens whatsoever
Forever endeavoring to sever my essence
Or consciousness altogether

The splendor of the Nether
Whether it’s my pleasure to ever enter
Or remain a lonely specter
destined to beg the question,
but plagued to always remember

I invent scenarios in my head
And fantasize how I long to be dead
While conceptualizing my grave end
Though I dread the inevitable attempt

The hand I’m dealt lost in the shuffle
My walls crumble deciphering life’s puzzles
Disillusioned with the hustle and bustle
Solutions come full circle at the bottom of a bottle

Mental status: unstable
Cerebral stasis turns tables
Visibly miserable and unable
To cope without the love of my chemical savior

From the apex, I’m ready to sail
While failing to grasp what all it entails
I steadily hide intent in my tales
In my dreams I’m haunted
since leaving the cradle

Life is beautifully frail
I see myself dancing in the portrayal
with the reaper as the main feature
veiled together in a cerebral theater

Patterns intertwine
In fashioned structures
I slumber and suffer
Painting caricatures

Of a perfect life
I yearn to capture
In lustrous colors
That fail to convert

this ******* thing came to this:
two brains, sever and split.
two pigs, top of the town,
made marquee marked on the ground!

punctuate!
i'm smothered, but
the fourth wall's
done getting scraped!

version one point one was nothing new,
these scrapes make room for version one point two.

we don’t know who
or even what
we are

I agree
Ms. Ph.D.
though I’m no academic star

it’s like a quest
with no clear end
shines a distant star

we end
and others begin
the near is now the far