None of us gets paroled

From the prison cells we lock ourselves into.


So that we all can fit together inside

These jigsaw lives that we lead
.

Which  of course, eventually all blow apart.
We are merely the fragments waiting to be reassembled.

Every moment of thought is but a small drop in time.

Each piece fits the next piece.


Although we may try to avoid,

The murmurs of our own thoughts. 


It is our hearts that yawn and awaken slowly

From their long winter night’s sleep.

You and I are mere mortals, 

Who dreamt of a life without end.


We are the ones who make up immortality. 

For the sake of seeking sweet comforts and sad joys.


This is the story we tell ourselves
Whilst slumping back to our cells.

I
am
propelled
like
a
bullet
from
a
gun
barreling
through
space,
­Through
your
flesh,

Through
the
time
you
have
misspent
on
this
E­arth
now
ending,

Too
late
to
regret
the
bending
trigger
of
my
gu­n.

I
penetrate
your
******,
Your
Mind,

Your
sense
of
inner
self­,

Tearing
through
your
false
resistance
like
a
runaway
train.

I­
cannot
stop,
I
am
momentum
personified.

Ripping
through
your
ma­ny
lives,

Decimating
your
hopes
for
the
peaceful
tomorrow
that
n­ow
will
never
come.

Because
my
trajectory
is
certain
and
yours
i­s
a
wet
pipe
dream.
You
are
obliterated
into
fragments
by
the
cur­ling
of
my
finger.

Now
Isis
will
never
find
you.

Fear
is
a
man’­s
best
friend,

And
a
little
pressure
goes
a
long
ways.

An aesthetic is a polished stone of truth.
Where beauty shines its insight
Onto a multitude of reflective curves and planes.

Small wonder the world smiles upon the couple.
Who have shifted the surfaces they slipped from.
Orpheus and Eurydice reunited:

Having finally tripped out of the cave and into the sun.
Their outward smiles shining with the inner joy of a sight regained:
Love is the greatest beauty of them all.

Your breath on my cheek as dawn warms our bed.
I need to press your flesh to mine
The hard melts the soft
and we are one again.
 
We will never stop making love
In our hearts, in our minds
In the sheet, we've wrapped around each other
I am only waiting
With deepening breaths
For the dawn when you open your wings to me again
That I might drink deep from the warm dew
That rises from your lips to mine.
 
This burning for your wet warmth will never abate
Until you are folded into me again
Feeling the solid earth turning under you
Cradled in my arms.
 
Without a reply, I know not whether my words touch you
Or merely annoy.
Shall I silence this ardour that will not rest?
Or shall I keep lending music to our passion that I might (someday),
Open your heart long enough for me to slip back inside again.

My heart is ticking like a bomb,
Beaten like a dusty rug,
Still ticking like a bomb.
Unbroken, unwavering
But ticking like a bomb
Not unbruised
Not yet fatally wounded
Still  ticking like a bomb
My heart is....
Strong but not hard.
And ticking like a bomb
Safe in its own discontent.
My heart is...ticking like a bomb.

Water falls from bright thin air.
It falls like hair,
overflowing a young girl's shoulders.
Waterfalls make pools in the asphalt,
***** mirrors with clouds and buildings inside.
And blinking bleeding neon lights.
Water falls on the roof of my house and the rest of my life.
It falls on my mother and on my hair.
It falls like mercy on the good and the unaware.
Water falls on you
But most people call it rain.