Who am I to have your love,
To feel you deep within?
What is it to give my body to an angel?
Would it be a sin?

To look at you, I must look up
You are a monument
To think of every wasted year,
Of useless time I've spent

In every useless, wasted hour
I could've been your flame
To light a room within this tower
To be your beast to tame

Your lips are colored with fresh blood
Coursing beneath your skin's infinity
With all the glories of the peak of youth
Yet fully-blossomed masculinity

I admire all your members,
Every feature, every breath
I feel like the heart within you
Trapped within you unto death

I will be anchored in your ribcage
Steadfast pumping 'round each lung
Let me feed your brain and bones and mind
Until the second your soul from your body is sprung

I'm jealous of the gentle Breeze
She always finds a way through your hair
By day the Sun wants to ****** you away
Watching with her heat-gilded glare

But I place myself as a sacrifice on the altar of You
I will writhe and passion-burn until my purpose is done
Until all my smoke rises and my willpower is through
'Til death parts our two bodies and into ashes I become

There was a young man who sat by the Sea
Without fail, everyone knew, he would go every morning
The youth sat there to think and it made him feel free
Free to dream or not dream. When in bliss, when in mourning

He loved the Sea for its surface
Wind-kissed waves distorting starlight
He loved the Sea for it's depths
Churning into thick ink when absorbing the night

A love that began in small boyhood
Burying tiny toes within her cool sand
Though with the strong passion of man
The first time her wet silkiness tickled his hand

Oh, how he adored her! Through torrents and sun
Her whispers and shouts only separate intensities
But he would not go into her, for he feared just as much
She had told him, one by one, of her darkest propensities

So a sailor in heart, but in soul a wise lover
The boy, now a man paid respect to her glory
He and she, now and then, liked to play with each other
But she kept him from harm where she showed others fury

This went on, sunrise, sunset,  and day after day
Until all the young man's friends were stooping and gray
Still the lull of the sea seemed to pull him away
From reality and back into it, he'd gone mad, some will say

And the time had come finally to confess all his desires
To do what he had refrained from for so long
On a particular eve that seemed wilder than any
The hour to usher in his destiny, and feel her sea-song

The storm caused curling foam,
Both entrancing and detestable
But to him, it looked like home
Like a restful sleep, quite testable

He thought, could this tumult be wrath of the Father?
Or is this a sign--the return of the Son?
Perhaps, 'tis a warning from the Holiest Ghost
He was wrong, but just right. 'Twas all this, but in one

And nearby sirens sang
For the bravery of their hero as he was swept from the shore
And far-off sirens rang
For the fate of the old man, the sailor, who watched the sea no more

a sunset
is still a sunset
even through a broken window
right?
a girl is still bright and colorful
even if she is broken
right?

riverboy swears he’s got bees in his throat,
says the cure’s in his bottles
so he’s been tossing back anything that might drown them
and copious amounts of pills he can’t pronounce
just waiting for the buzz to stop

he’s been pacing around the bus stops just thinking of a place to go
smiles softly at anyone who asks
says, “i’m just waiting for a thought to come”
he’s just holding on to the time
trying not to let the bees hum inside him

and riverboy’s eyes could make the rain jealous
even god stops just to hear him laugh
though that’s rare these days
riverboy says his voice’s just
too scratchy

too angry, too demanding
too much of the world living inside him
but riverboy swears he knows the cure
so he breaks himself a little more
as the bees hum inside him

I thought to myself, as I was getting something to eat,
I'm going to need a fork
This thought happened so quickly and subconsciously,
For it is something easy to think, or rather just know
And it happens to everyone over the age of perhaps three-years -old
Who has ever needed a fork

I knew I needed a fork
This was very simple

But, where are all the forks?
Why are there none left in the drawer?
Maybe in the dishwasher.
None there, either?
Are all the forks in this entire house *****?

And I continued looking a little longer.

After these few--but frustrating--minutes passed by,
I had become so focused and determined to find this fork,
That I forgot to remember the very point of finding it

What was I getting to eat, again?

Cereal.

Spoon.

Right.

Here's one.

And this is why my mind is capable of the type of thinking that it really takes
To find inspiration, and not wait for it to come to you

History repeats itself.

~History