So here I lay
trying to imagine the sound
of you
moaning
trying to feel the wet
of your ******
trying to measure
the weight
of this want
in the flesh

haven't been, much.
it's been more of an avoidance of,
part of the
never ending
search of the visceral.
a pause
within another,
as if time slowed down
as it passed you by.

Sit still, little soul,
tune into the cries
of your heart.
Time can never
be replenished;
it’s yours for the
taking, and it’s
yours for the
Wasting.  So use
each minute as
you want.  Don’t
let the pressures
of society steal
away your most
valuable asset.

Heart beat, bruised
bittersweetened, bent;
passion’s capillary action
relaxes then contracts again-
a seed beneath, muscle
fatigued, toils and spends;
roots, a web of arteries extend,
branching tree stemmed,
leaves shedding red oxygen;
veins shredded to the thread,
frayed strands bleed,
unweave and unhem;
rivulets spill, unquenched,
hemorrhaging hands,
their fingers search to mingle, blend;
a crimson cardiac attack, defend-
for a moment, pressure wavering, suspends,
then pulled back, we cauterize
and mend our loose ends;
every line a vine of growth we tend-
surrounding blossoms rose gardens.

The best time to be awake,
Is through the night,
Even if there's no light,
It's okay to binge on that cake.

Pages turn,
chapters end,
books are finished.
With resolution, and head
held high, I'll
fly away to somewhere
safer, where there's
less pain.
I try to love you,
but you just
push me away.
The heart is a
silly dreamer.
It sees life as it
should be...could be,
and not as it
really is.
The head sees what
the heart doesn't.
Emotions can be as
treacherous as a
rabid dog or a
razor blade.
I wish I were a
redwood or a rosebush,
or even a dandelion
just
swaying in the
breeze.