I crave your deepest secrets in the deep crevices of your soul.
i crave those filthy words of which you speak,
i crave your touch filled with lust, the innocence and empathy you give me lingers throughout my body like poison in my veins.
It burns and i find it pleasurable.
Am i bad for wishing for this pain? am i bad for wishing i was inside your mind hearing every thought you think?
Am I Mad?

my wrists still hurt more from your rough hands
pinning me to the floor,
than anything I've ever done to them before.

my head still aches more from screaming,
rather than by an old concussion lingering.

my eyes still cry and leak over,
but I'm not sure why anymore.

But as long as it's don't ask, don't tell,
I'll be fine.

I lived inside a hope that was birthed inside a promise
that was meant to last beyond when time had forgotten us

In security I breathe the same breath you used to cherish
while hoping in my arms was where you would perish

Now here we are alas and the whole is back to halves
creating a devastating fork splitting our two paths

Only left to wonder where without me you roam
my feet began to wander to a place we called home

Wander to the home I still envision your standing silhouette
staring below at my cold shadow immersed in the tears that I wept.

The issue lies not in you being gone but in the fact that you're away.
In seeing your smile it became transfixed in my brain and became something that one could only hope to see every time the sun brought a new set of hours to life.

The issue lies not on the decision you made to go but in the mystery of whether you'll return. I could live without you, please that you must believe, but what fun or momentary enjoyment would it be to constantly dance outside in the rain if never with a partner.

The issue lies not in the few days we spent together but in the plentiful seconds I knew who you were. Every word, gesture, movement and expression resonated in my head reminding me of the day I was born without the rest of me in hopes to find it.

The issue lies in the fact that there is no issue after all is there?
If you're the issue, we'll find the answer.
If time is the issue, we'll watch the clock together.
If we're the issue, it's the world that is mistaken.

I've wanted to read a happy book
For quite some time now
But every time I crack the spine
Of a book with a grin escalating steadily,
I find that the stories that make me happy
Are the same ones that destroy my friends.

And I've wanted to write a happy poem
For just as long
But my hand always stalls.
No one wants to read about love and tenderness
When they're suffocating in their own right.

I don’t want to live by the sea
For where others see
Possible possibilities
I see
Impossibilities
  I want to live
By the tree
The tree outside my window
With the sky always
Perfectly
Molded behind it
And moving
Silently
  It is a possibility
For being still