A few miles feels like we are oceans apart,
Battling against a tide of cars and trains
To reach your arms,
Even when we are beneath the same quilt,
It feels as if the rolling waves of creased bed sheets
Separates us from being connected,
I wait patiently, On the cliffs edge of a station platform,
For the sails to catch the fume stained wind of another train engine,
To be hurtled through fields that burn beneath the sun,
Past speeding cars and clouds that drift peacefully
Across the vast skies that echo adventure and longing,
Only to reach the final destination of your safety.

Satan was swinging over me
the seduction of solitude
ever encroaching into my slippery thoughts.

I'm in a race to retrace back to what I forgot
but in a effort diluted by my distraction
I will surely rot
before I arrive to the place
where I might get off.

I missed the last stop with eyes
heavy with wine and sleep
and the poisonous concoctions
I so eagerly drink

Just a momentary quenching;
simply sated for the moment.

Chapped lips and a rattly voice
this is the brink of atonement.

There is a man on a stage
three feet from a crowd who gazes on
clearly enraged
though nonetheless engaged.

He is rabid with malice
and a darkness in his heart
tainted blood in his chalice

this coal will never spark.

c.e.m. 11.24.2014

Coming down and over
With a narcissistic tide
Daddy's little nightmare
but to momma she's alright

Punched with independence
to hide her own stigma
Breaking hearts left and right
Out for lust, not love

Regurgitating phrases
as if anything was new
Somehow I was blind enough
to ever be with you

I'm never turning back again
You're only burning time
You have taken happiness
But you'll never take my pride.

My world became more colorful after you left, but I find myself missing the black and white.

It was just you, and me.

I was night, and you were the feeling of the sun on my skin.

I was death, and you were my 16th birthday.

I was fear and you are...gone

You are the feeling of the sun on her skin, you are her 16th birthday, she is courage and you are there.

And as I see her in your arms thoughts race back to my 6th grade science class, to the day we learned white was every color combined.

And as this thought rolls over in my mind so does the realization that when I used to hold you I was holding the rainbow.

You are white, and you have found someone who is not the absence of everything you are.

You are white,

And I am black.