I don't have any more words to say.
I don't have anything wise enough to teach you something new.
I look back at the last three years and I consider what that looks like.
Is it merely two strangers that have savagely danced around our egg shells?
Merely two poker players with an understanding of each other who have no reason to hold face.
Was I merely just a tinder date you got too attached to or am I someone you recognize when you fall back on good times?
Am I merely a convenience like your disastrous inheritance.
Am I a grace and relief like your disastrous inheritance.
Either way I am the one that is disastrously here.
My value is that of a red ball to a dog who desires a single ball.
But,
forgets about it every time its thrown.
That was cold.
But you have been too.

it appears to be a sickness of the soul
in truth,
it is human to be a fool.
I hope to cultivate something that grows beyond me.
I hope to see something that towers me.
like an intensity enticed by agony but it's weight lifted of its immensity on the value of its words and the promise that continuously grows.

My dreams are enshrouded in a silk of death and destruction erupting into a curtain fire that blocks off a room of its single entry.
When awake I stand as sentry, bags on my eyes heavier than my body.

And those dreams that bare no nightmare.
All I can see is open skies and full seas.
untouched forests and no one else.
I just take in the moment and stare.
I brush my hands along the bark of every tree.
I take the time to reconcile with my self.

I've written love letters, suicide notes, inspirational essays, stories,
and most of all I've written poems.

Even so the feelings come and go.
and that's what I do,
I just go.
You see Taoism has taught me some things.
Go with the flow.
I am most useful when my mind is clear.
The things I hope to keep become my fear.
so I let it go.

I let it go,
Not like rocks in a river only to be dredged up by passing currents
But like the words I've committed to parchment
that happiness and sadness are life's concurrence

If given the chance;
Should we not be better than our parents?
These people who live like the earth is theirs;
Like tyrants.

Patricide beneath us,
Grace taught from our disgrace
Peace made from grief,
Strength bonded through the clench in our teeth.

I thought us a different breed,
As childish as it may be to hear or read,

But I thought us different
A bloodline of heroes forgotten to times passing.
People who's sole reason was to bring out the soul in others.
That honor was doing the right thing when no one else was watching.

I know god has pried his eyes away when we needed him most.
But should we be so willing to do the same and give way to suffering and pain and just raise a glass and toast?

It was a child's dreams,
Borrowed from books on our grandmothers shelves with loose seams.
A book about us,

That we would rise above our parents and be the things they couldn't.
That we could stop history from going to the future where it shouldn't.

I thought we were different
but maybe you're right,
life is indifferent.

Little known is the thought we throw to the side.
inside insidiously we tried
to hide the being with the wish I hope to confide.

Let alone the disillusioned idea of property or love owned by the self.
let alone the thoughts we've left canned on the shelf.
Like a man with no remorse I open those cans with a thought in mind.

I hope I can find your love inside of at least one, with empathy of my task in kind

A wise man once said,
"To write poetry is to capture a moment."

To tell you how I felt,
was to show you my intent.

To me,
you are Brunhild.
I wish to be Sigurd.
You are Artemis,
I wish to be your faithful hound.

You are my queen,
I only wish to see you crowned.

You receive pros,
I empty my cup.

You crinkle your toes,
I can feel my heart erupt.

You are scared of who you are,
I am brave because I know your potential.

You are beautiful like a star
I would kneel to you, I deem quintessential

But alas,
My beloved lass,
I am not essential.

You told me if you'd buy me a flower, you'd rather grow me a rose bush and send it to every other man you can think of. but i'd be on the end of that list. at least i'd be on the end of that list. all i've ever been is at the end of a list. It hurt more than when we kissed. let alone when i felt your hands on my wrist.