you
a matrix of energies
residing in a physical vessel

an eternal soul
bound
to this manifestation
of the universe

your entire being
is revolutionary

what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists

my breath is blue
cold and forgettable
in this dark room
and with my eyes closed
composed of a mind
and all its follies,
that I cannot switch off;

i am lost, yes,
bless'd with a life
i never would have
known otherwise,

of minutes, mountains and
stones, wise men; a home
and sun rise,

here on this rock
me and so many like me
will die, pretending we
never would,

consuming blood and wood
even burning the forest down
'tis his kingdom, filled with
people bad and good,

some mad and filled with
scars and broken days
then there's that who
has no need for a place,
some wear stars and some
wear no face, some are meant
to die, some meant to stay

some go away never to
come back, some find
grey days soothing as they
pass by, some live
in good-byes, and some dye
themselves, some don't cry,

some won't die, and we'd
watch them live forever,
whilst we break our lies,

i live the lies too, yes,
but that's more bless'd, in
this storm of illusion,
outside this dark room
where i bleed away bits of
me, everytime i step out,

loud noises and the clock,
to break me down,

silence louder than words,
empty air for me to drown
trapped in a circle 'round
my neck,

eyes to dream me a crown,
and a mind for the countless
worthless things i've found
gagged and bound,
in the deepest layers
miles deeper than my skin
sinking, and inking my
breath blue.

I have memorized every inch of him
in hopes that when he goes
I might still have something left

but his picture fades with everyday
and now I have only shapes and shadows
of the man that I love

i wrote you
a letter every day
letters to tell you
just how i feel

written in neat, curved
writing i told you
just how sweet
i thought you were
how you made my heart
glow

letters in which i wrote
with various colors of ink
pouring out my whole being
to you

i wrote you
a letter every day.

i wrote you letters in which
i told you how you made me
bloom.

eventually
i found myself
pressing harder on
the paper
than i had before.

creating tears in them
similar in shape
and size
as the ones
inside of me.

i began to send
letters
with creases
and bumps
and stains
splattered with tears

pouring
from my eyes

as i wrote
the anger
bubbling within me.

my last letter
addressed to you
contained
no words

but was blank.
because
i had none that

could reach
as far

and deep

into the cracks
of my
heart

to describe
just
what you

had left
of me.