Walk among the people,
Notice them, earbuds in, faces down.
Only aware when traffic gets busy,
When the sidewalk begins to crowd.
A crowd, yet people don't bother talking,
Because technology is too loud.

Social interactions,
Devolved,
Pushed onto social platforms
Where numbers value our memories,
Numbers influence our personalities.

We are the silent generation,
Where our voices are heard by few,
Drowned out by those that voice for the many,
Because we are just numbers, comments, or likes.
Hidden,
Under a post.

Beauty,
Seen in the light of mornings sun.
Orange, blue
Pink and purple too.
Radiantly march up the horizon line.

In this soft light,
Together we lay,
Witnessing the break of day.
Hands on bare skin,
Lips finding places to stay.

Your back,
Facing me. Touched by the morning sun
Appears like a mural, colors over-run.
I'll find myself following the shapes,
Brushing across the soaring arcs of color,
Enchanted by the reflection of the sky.

Only to be grounded once again,
When you turn around,
And meet my eyes.
Oh how I'd love,
To paint the colors of the sky
With you.

I want to feel your fingers in my hair.
I want you to run them through and through,
I want to feel you pull and tug.

I want to leave goosebumps down your neck.
I want to tease and tickle, letting my fingers just barely touch your skin, I want to let my nose follow my lips, I want to breath you in.

I want your arms around me, feel your nails dig in.
I want you to grab me, hold me close as you let out the sweetest of groans.

But most of all, I want to spend time around you.
I could just sit with you, I would just walk with you, we could just be in a car. Silent, or talking, I don't mind. As long as I'm with you, I'll be fine.

The sun has set,
Now only the sky is lit up by the city lights around us.
Florescent, neon, incandescent flowing above us.
Next to the water we lay,
On the cool rivers shore,
Where the water reflects the sky,
In all it's disarray.
And as we walk down the sand,
We are sillouted by the rivers light,
On this dark and calm night.
So let's make this our place to be,
Where we feel eachother vulnerable in the dark,
Let's stay.
Tangled together,
Until the sunrises, until the beginning of a new day.

Take note of the flame,
And It's ever changing existitence.
Take note of the flame,
And the way burns through life's substance.
Take note of the flame,
Watch as it displays it's dance giving off a living light.
Take note of the flame,
Appreciate the heat it gives, the energy it transfers.
Take note of the flame,
How hungry a fire can be if left unchecked.
Take note of the flame,
The flame that lies within you, tend to it,
And let it appreciate the things you feed it.

I miss you,
Sometimes. That's a lie.
I miss you,
Never. That's a lie.

I never associated with lying,
I value truth and honesty above all.
For trust is the key to happiness.
Yet in my mind, I lie to myself.

I lie to avoid pain. The emotion, that is caused by anxiety and insecurity. I lie out of fear,
Yet I lie to myself to avoid fear.
I lie about my feelings for you,
I lie to myself, I say it's over for me, that im over you.

These little lies, they settle at the end of the day.
Like dust they blanket my body,
Make sleep a warm place to stay.
But in the morning, I'll awake, and the settled dust. Will begin to peel away.

Each time I shed, a new piece of myself is
Revealed. The lies that held me,
Can no longer be sealed.
It's growth beyond myself,
It's taking back control.

But it doesn't dismiss,
The fact that I still,
Miss you.

I want to go out but my body doesn't allow me.
It's feeble bones trapping me inside it's organic cage.
If I was free, I would know no bounds. I'd make no mistakes, time wouldnt be profound.
I'd soar across past failures, and see what success brought me, perhaps the love that left never forgot me.
Or maybe, the ill-mannered actions I took, never happened.
My soul wants dearly to depart, but this thing called life clings desperately to my heart.
As if the leaving of my soul is the leaving of life.
Maybe I'll take the leap another night

The Gavel has sounded.
Yet as you realize the gravity of your situation.
you feel no guilt, your heart is not heavy.
Time will only bring on this emotion, slowly.
Slowly thoughts will wander, and now the situation is more than the past. Its reality.
Never was a vow broken, for your heart was righteous. Until a dread came crashing in.
Too sudden, reality seems a dream. Your heart - prior situation - is jagged, cracked as a felled mirror. Now, future holds your destiny, and uncertainty, an old friend, appears.
Time and destiny, twisting in serenity, you dive into the situation.
And now, the act is complete.
Jagged heart, blood along its edges, hands across your chest, in attempt to slow the wound.
But the dread has done its deed, she wont revoke her word.
You had been left, heart hurting, words churning, and now you have a truth you need to speak. For you are not the condemned, not for the actions you took.
But dread has done its deed. And as she hears your words, the confusion clashes with certainty. You forsake dread, binding yourself to another, that is what dread will think. But you are not the guilty party. For long before, you had been left, heart hurting, words churning, and with beloved dread turning away, leaving you to weep.

Often, I ponder the consequences of life.
The illustrations we paint,
Choosing to splatter yet another color across the canvas.
Often, I watch as color turns dark.
Ceasing to exist, the suns light dipping under the horizon.
And here we are, in our truest nature, staring into the shadows.
As a man stares within his own soul.
What purpose can we serve when our lives our haunted by wrong and right.
How can we, navigate the lightless landscape, when all can be shattered by one action.
The weight not mattering, the intention disregarded.
For any and all actions pose the chance of error,
of tumultuous failure.
This world we inhabit, and the society we love so dearly,
so fragile.
Often, I ponder the reason of those around me.
of the weight they throw with their actions, and how assuredly
they hold themselves.
Often, I wait to see them tumble, never again to fully make it off the ground.

it fills the air, with a quivering screech.
leaving only the toll of a beating bell.
To the heavens we stare,
hearing nothing at all,
nothing but its honest call.
For in these moments, fleeting, and rare,
we find our pilgrimage headed towards hell.
uncomfortable with the truths we face, we find ourselves pitiless, a hollow peach.

I want to feel your fingers in my hair.
I want you to run them through and through,
I want to feel you pull and tug.

I want to leave goosebumps down your neck.
I want to tease and tickle, letting my fingers just barely touch your skin, I want to let my nose follow my lips, I want to breath you in.

I want your arms around me, feel your nails dig in.
I want you to grab my ***, hold me close as you let out the sweetest of groans.

But most of all, I want to spend time around you.
I could just sit with you, I would just walk with you, we could just be in a car. Silent, or talking, I don't mind. As long as I'm with you, I'll be fine.,

Terrified of confrontation.
Bad experiences not remarkable.
Yet when you withold all you have is bad experiences.
You would think it better to let it out.
To stand your ground, and make things understood
But rarely do things change.
So you are either forced to accept them,
Taking the back seat... Again.
Or you take the risk, and make yourself heard.

Frustration, that's what I feel.
Your time seems laxidazical.
You have five days a week of freedom.
Yet you sleep. You lay and watch TV, lay and read books.
Leaving responsibility to the last second.
I'm left alone.
Forced to put my self out there.
Hoping for a response, trying to make plans.
Something you rarely do.
I feel like I am the victim,
Suffering a wound to my heart, where the hollowness awaits.

Yet, here I am, taking the backseat again.
To afraid to change.

Smile, you're on camera.
Calloused Hands, covered in flour,
Crusted in tender dough
Apron used to wipe the knife
Stained.
Red, green, and hints of yellow. Colors of,
Peppers, tomatoes, a touch of basil, of love.
Wrapped around my waist,
"Give me one second, I've got to check the oven"
Food and love,
Intertwined in memory, sharing a laugh and a drink, with way too much bread on the table.
The edges of your lips twisting upward ever so slightly, as the taste hits your tounge.
Hands reaching towards one another,
As we enjoy this meal,
This delicious love.

Sighing in the sheets,
Dreaming of the sweeter things.
I lay alone, eyes drowning in the darkness,
Wondering why sleep escapes me.
Toss, turn, adjust the sheets,
Get up to go to the bathroom.
And as I climb back into bed,
Hoping to empty head,
I hear your voice,
And see your shoulder turn.
A hand slips over to my chest,
Fingers spin in a loving caress.
And with deep breath in, I let go of the world,
Leaning in, I embrace the girl.
But as my arms begin to grasp her,
Her form disappears,
And suddenly, my eyelids flutter open,
Just a dream, another voice in the dark.

How are we ever supposed to connect,
If we, as individuals, are more absorbed in our phones, ourselves, than the person we just swiped on.
We open a chat,
Men gotta start right?
Men gotta impress right?
Well **** that, not all of us guys are after a quick **** and done.
Some of us guys want a person to sleep by not just with.
So maybe next time,
Women will try to cast,
And men, we will be the fish.

Innocence,
That's not me.
Guilty,
That's not you.

What we feel,
Is our choice,
Influenced or not,
We choose to feel bruised.

Battered, broken,
By no one else,
But our selves,
Victimized by our need to understand,
To cope with the dope we're stuck on.

"It's your fault, not mine".
"How could they do this to ME".
Not reality.
Just a sleeve, a blanket, a wall.
Of ignorance.
Of indulgence.

I don't think you knew,
How much that note meant to me.
The one I put on the inside of the cover to the book I gave you.

To me, it was more than a formality,
To me, it was a little bit of everything,
The most I could manage, without doing too much damage.
To try and convey a feeling I couldn't afford.

So I left in a book,
That simple message.
I left that feeling in that book,
Closed the cover,
Closed the door.

And yet, somehow it managed,
To be opened once more.

We ******,
and now you don't wanna see me.
I'm bad at this kind of stuff, and having feelings
Prior doesn't make it easy.
I wanna see you more,
Spend time around you,
Do things,
**** more,
Watch movies,
Cuddle, all that couples ****.

I like you *******.

I am awake, aware, alone.
I sit, lay, and scroll through my phone.
For minutes, for hours, for days for months.
No letter z's visit me.

When you don't sleep, the world spins around you,
You feel, think, and move, too slow for anyone to notice you.
And so the world moves through you.
Past you.

Stuck in the current,
You are dragged,
Body torn through the rapids,
Mind splayed as time rushes about.
Nothing connecting, No thoughts to keep your mind aground.
Spinning, can't recognize anything, submerged by everything around you.

I don't sleep no more.

If I put on a mask would you love me again.
If I made myself up,
Tore the muscles on my bones,
Went to a meditation retreat,
Started seeing a therapist,
Looked at life with a positive perspective.

Would you?

I hurt myself today,
Not it any physical way.
Except for maybe not sleeping.
Except for maybe not eating.
But I can't compare, the feeling.
To the pain of the body.

For I know I ache from impulse.
Not in a regretful way.
Because,
I tried to wash a feeling away,
I tired to tie myself to different woman.

And silly me, didn't think.
That I would begin to think,
About how much, it really does stink.
That that woman wasn't you.

I am,
The one man,
Who can possibly stand,
And tell you,
With no hesitation,
That I know about your *******,
And that's okay,
Because today,
Is not the day,
That I will walk away.

Everybody hits the spot,
The rough patch of the road,
Where life kicks em down,
And leaves broken and disowned.

Where you've got nothing to show,
Except holes,
In your heart,
In your wallet,
In your soul.

But you can't let those holes define you,
don't let them decide,
Who You
Will
Be.

Build bridges above,
Over those holes,
And find yourself stronger,
As you overcome the obstacles,
As you become
Once again,
Whole.

Urge, bubbling in my blood.
Words, scattered across my tounge.
Desire, burning my bones in it's fire.
I'm a mess of these feelings.
I feel I should be screaming,
Calling you out, for kissing me, for touching me.
You lit the candle again.
And I want things to be different.
So I'll wait until I see you again.
Till I feel you, lips against your skin.
Only after then, will I let it out.
The questions that slowly,
Have been
Boiling
Me
Down.

I sit at the top, waiting for the winter sun to fall.
As I sit, and time passes, my mind wanders its halls.
I think of the girl, I liked long ago, who came back in and touched my skin. Who kissed me on the night I needed it the most. Who reminded me I can feel more.
I wish she was here with me on this secluded hill,
To watch the sun fall, to hold her hand and lean in close. To touch her cheek, and breath her in.
This intoxicating desire, to fill these silent times with anothers touch. The impulse to share the worlds beauty with another, and find beauty parallel in them.
So I sit in this silence, and wish she would reach out to me, wish she made it clear that she wanted to be touched again. Because she's entranced me, with her bitter sweet love and tender bliss.

Footsteps echo
Across the floorboards and plastered walls,
Floating along till someone hears their song.
The creaks and groans, the thuds and clatter.
Playing in tune, following a pattern.

Footsteps fall
Like the leaves when autumn calls,
Prints left wet from the morning dew,
Staining the pavement like a memory,
Until the sun rises, and the memory is forgotten.

Footsteps trail
Leaving grooves in the earth,
Carving through mountains,
Climbing up cliffs,
Wandering through valleys.
Their impact deep, leaving
Stories behind them.

But most important,
Are our footsteps.
Yours and mine.
The journey we have taken,
The music we made,
The memories we have,
And the trails we have left behind.

For our footsteps are special,
For no one else can walk them.
So keep walking,
find where your footsteps take you.
Our footsteps together,
You and me.

The horn blares across the streets,
Over houses, and parks,
Racing towards the weak.

In my heart, I scream, I plead,
Come for me too,
Cause I feel pain,
Find me some medicine,
To make a broken heart heal.

My body aches,
More places than one.
A concoction of pain,
All meant to treat one.

My shoulders,
My chest,
My legs,
And the rest,
Torn until it's hard to take steps.
All meant to treat one.

My heart,
It pounds,
Until the anxiety that I felt,
Is nothing more than exasperated breaths,
And sweat pouring down my forehead.

My body aches,
More places than one,
A concoction of pain,
To make the waiting for you,
Seem less long

When you can't seem to wake,
When something is too good to be true,
When the seemingly impossible becomes true,
When life decisions revert themselves,
I always worry if I'm in a dream.

Yet when in the "dream", I can't seem to open my eyes.
No matter how hard I try,
And this brings me comfort for a bit, that reality has seemingly flipped.
Until I wake.

And when I wake,
I'm not in your bed,
Not at your side,
Instead I'm greeted by the familiar walls of my room.

And then I cry,
A vivid dream that tricked my eyes,
That let me think that we had both,
Apologized.
When really, I'm still alone.
In darkness.

About a year ago,
But it feels longer.
I made the decision,
To stay and hold you closer.

About a year ago,
I doubted my lover.
For my feelings were,
At the time,
Starting to wander.

About a year ago,
I almost let you go.
For another reason,
Another person,
And maybe another future.

But I held on,
For love was still there.
But that was a year ago,
And you no longer want me.
That's too bad.

During that year,
I learned.
That you were the one,
But now our roles are reversed,
And you didn't hold on.
You let us down, 6 ft into the dirt.

Far above the sky shines the lost star,
Far from the human eye.
In the darkness of space she roams.
Looking for a place to call home.

I've once seen that wonderous star,
I've once called her my own.
Her light shining in my eyes,
Her warmth touching my soul.

Oh if I could feel her flame again,
As I walk the beaches of paradise.
I would call her my mother star.

But the lost star still wanders away,
For her flame is cold.
So she wanders from those who would embrace her. Looking for a warmth, that would fill her void

You see, the humor of it all is coincidence.
Or so it seems...

We learn to love,
With our entire heart,
Yet as time passes,
We forget our parts.
What once was a serious affair,
Becomes coated in comfort,
Dust hanging in it's air.

We forget our parts,
And sometimes our partners.
But we still attribute our love to our lovers.
For we are lazy lovers at best.
Don't deny it,
There is no reason to protest.

For what once was,
Now it can be.
Let our laziness fall from our lumbering legs,
Find forgiveness for things we never said.

Lazy lovers we may be.
But our love is true.
You,
And me.

Loneliness is the byproduct of expectations.
It's a cloud that settles in when time slows.
The fruit that falls from the tree, rotten.
Loneliness is always there,
Waiting for you.

We fear death, a place thought to be isolating.
Yet in our lonely moments,
We feel the rope strangling.
Veins blocked,
We stand up on the world's edge, leaning forward, hoping to find another world,
Where our lonely weekends dont exist at all.

Lonesome, laying in the sheets of a empty bed.
Sadness, the bitter cracking of a happy heart.
Pain, the mix of emotions that roll down your spine.
Love, the redemption of happiness, the glow inspired by another's touch, the need for another person in your life.
Life, the journey we embark on, searching for solid answers to our horde of questions.

And so it all continues on, people live their lives full of their systems of neurons firing off to create the day to day life we live.

The aspect of unknown world's is alluring.
The pursuit for knowledge is all about enduring, looking where no one has looked,
Seeing what no one has seen.
Answers we hope to glean,
Hidden behind smoke screens.

We push and shove,
Through the endless crowd,
Trying to make a name for ourselves,
Trying to stand out.
"For science"
The red curtain
Our classic fascade.

Glory to the one who finds the truth.
Love for the one who plays the game.
Wealth, for the ones born into a name.

And the rest of us are better off avoiding the stage.

The only fun thing about parallel parking is shifting into park.
The wave of relief,
The smiles of success.
One could bow for mastering such an art.
Until they have to squeeze out, making sure as to not hit the bumper of the vehicle infront.
Parallel parking,
A dangerous stunt.

We should do this again,
hangout till the day reaches night,
till we are splayed across the floor
tired of all the games we once adored.

Before you move,
Stay a little longer,
The party isn't over
And we're still both sober.
Let's just make this moment last,
I don't want to lose you to the past

"Eat your greens" would have been Mommas favorite thing to tell me.
She would have been happy to learn that I rode my first bike without training wheels when I was 7.
I can hear her cheering for ever goal I scored in soccer.
But Momma wasn't there.

Momma would have loved to give me baths,
Because i would always sit still when shed tenderly massage soap into my scalp.
"I love you Momma" is what I would say.
As she warmed me underneath a fresh blanket.
But Momma wasn't there

Instead Momma was out,
And I was on the floor crawling
In search of the next cheerio I could eat.
Over needles, razors, and scattered bottles.
But Momma couldn't keep me.
So I was put in a different house.

There are nights,
When you cant seem to sleep.
And at this time,
Nothing, nobody, not a peep,
Occupies the streets.

The street light,
Highlights this emptiness.
Your thoughts,
Embrace this moment.
This night.

These dark corners,
And dim boardwalks,
They all remind you of the contrast in your life.
The things that you have, things you see.
And the things that are lost, things you wish would be.

Like the girl,
Whom you remember from high school,
Or the friends that fled to secure jobs.
You will remember,
You will squint trying to remember her face,
Her name,
Her laugh.

There are nights,
Nights that are full of wishing,
Dark nights.
This night.

With empty faces,
We take our marked places.
Standing tall
Standing still
As the curtain rolls,
and light hits the stage.
We take our roles.
The act begins.

As the lights dim,
and curtain folds.
We wipe the makeup of our cheeks.
We leave the stage empty,
but still have roles to play.
Our lives, staged into predictable scenes.
Yet we strive for individuality by any means.

We raise a family.
We travel the world.
We follow our joy.
Yet each day, we run in the races.
Each day
We take our marked places.
Trying to fill
Our empty faces.

I know I said I didn't believe in,
"True-love" or "Soul-mates"
But,
When you aren't around, I find you in every little thing I do. I laughed yesterday,
A pure, happy laugh.
And it reminded me of you.
So, I guess, somehow
That I was wrong,
Because these feelings are strong.
I believe you,
And I think that,
I really really like you

The night is dark and dangerous,
For monsters lurk from dusk to dawn.
Hunting for a beating heart,
They stalk, each step in time with their deadly song.

Listen to the howls,
And you will soon feel the tune.
This is their deadly beauty, Their alluring choir.
Spreading emotion through a soulful hymns fire.
Chanting for another voice to join,
So they may dine on tenderloin.

With beauty and grace,
The Sophisticated beasts begin the chase
You are the prey
And you see the face
In splendour and awe.
Your emotions, prepared like your flesh,
Raw

The Wolf is howling,
With her beauty and grace
This,
is loves first taste.

The Click
and Clacks
of a mindless keyboard are distracting.
Pen to Paper... WE prefer this
"form of relaxing".
As artists, we claim to scribble down
the unheard sounds.
Forming an appendage that conducts the tune.
IT, embraces its humpback brother, whom follows it with a heavy
wind.
Finally, they are bound to a third:
A hollowed circle.
And now they form the formidable challenge of curiosity.

W
H
O
?

Love is broken
love is a toy
love is brand new for only an hour

the clean smell,
the satisfying gleam,
the fresh feel,
all turn to nothing.

Dust,
it inhabits the heart,
circulating through our constant pulsing veins
In vain,
we try to renew it,
we try to misconstrue
It.

The game we play,
with our toy,
the hearts we break
with its false joy.
Thats what love is.

A commercialized tool,
that makes us consume
makes us lust;
For another fresh heart to bust.

What color is that rope,
The one around your neck.
Is it yellow with red stripes?
Or red with yellow stripes?
What creates such a rope.

Is it the knotted world around us?
This capitalistic factory of rope,
Of yellow tape.
Killing the ones who see,
Handing them this rope.
Hiding them behind the tape,
The yellow rope dangles, the body is laying on the floor.

The rope is yellow,
With red stains of the world's will.
Willingly killing our right to explore

The world screams Ego.
The preaching of self.
The alienation of 'humanity'.
The sin we all ablidge.

Tearing our society,
Into nothing more than dull
Interactions.
Dull conversations,
Between one individual,
And himself.

Never quite listening,
Only digesting what he wants,
His lie.
His drug.
Like any other, the self satisfied pig is drugged beyond his control.
Control
Given to the world.
By the world's scream.

Have you ever,
Put a box fan in your window?
Felt the breeze of its humm pass your cheek?

Seen the shadows of the world's spin through its twisting blades?
Smelt the morning dew in its air?

No.
You haven't.
You can't.

The box fan, flickers the light of the window.
The window that lets you see the world.
It waters your eyes, blurring the view.
It hides it's consumption in its comfortable wind.
Pushing the truth away.

So, you can't have seen a box fan, you see.
For a mear 'box fan' is always fleeting,
Hiding itself,
In the lie you told yourself.

You,
Are funny.
You,
Are kind.
You,
Are beautiful.
But,
You aren't mine.

Life will take us far,
Apart.
Love will split,
My heart.
But as we go I will remember you,
You wont.

*******,
You would say.
******* too,
I would say.
Do you remember my name?

This collection of thoughts,
This 'beautiful mind'.
Will be forever troubled by the,
Could of and what if scenarios
That run wild in
The brain.

And this will be,
The end of me
In your thoughts,
This will be,
Loves end.

What do we do when we are dreaming,
Lost in thought like a greek philosopher,
Romping through uncharted land like Lewis and Clark,
Or perhaps we slay a dragon, saving a fabled kingdom.
What do we really do when we are dreaming.

Why do we wake on occasion,
To find the world so still, as if the dream hasn't ended.
To find that the winter we braved, was no more than a cool summer breeze,
Sliding through our window.

What do we do when we are dreaming
When we are deep within our own minds,
When our subconscious becomes reality.
When we are so close to fixing our problems of;
Stress
Heartbreak
And isolation.
Our brains so vulnerable, yet we take this for granted.

We slide into our sleeves, our personalities.
Filling another void in a meaningless pit
Never aspiring to do anymore than the status quo.
And so we are stuck, screaming,
Inside
Bottling up our emotions
Alone.

Oh, the things we could do, if we only started dreaming.

I sit in this chair, staring into the screen.
Scrolling through articles,
Mindlessly
Imagining myself somewhere else.
Maybe in a dream.

I'm standing, yet sitting.
Yelling, yet whispering.
Running, yet walking.
In this dream, I am everywhere else.
Not in a dream.

I am in the screen, staring at the chair.
I am falling through media.
Each article, drowning me

Each notification, I lose a piece of who i should be.
If only i pull away from these mindless games.
I could be what a person would be.

Free.
From the mass media of society.
From all its natural hierarchy.

Free.