There were days where I'd crawled miles on hands and knees.
Every agonizing inch with only thoughts of finally resting at your side.

There were weeks where I'd close my eyes,
because the damage around me was to horrifying to witness.
My vision blurred from bleary kisses.
The caress of a backhanded comment.

There were months, and months where I held my words at bay;
keeping all my worries and doubts inside my mouth.
A devastating storm brewing just off shore on the tip of my tongue.

There were years where I would cry, begging for some sort of validity.
A single conformation from your lips.
I was in fact being heard over my silent screaming.

I tired of this endless journey.
Days.
Weeks.
Months.
Years of yearning.

Dredging through trenches on fire.
This tiresome struggle to inhale a single smokeless breath.

I drag myself on; towards the end and far beyond.
A clear blue sky waiting for my upheaval.
The air clean with a heavenly scent of freedom and home.

Some people are lost in the fire but some are built up within the infernal storm.

Black eyes,
Deep and endless.
Shines a light,
Bright and timeless.

A kind smile,
On a gnarled face.
Handsome in his
own way.

Honesty.
A lost virtue,
In this wasteland
We call home.

Smoke drifts
from a parted mouth.
Escapes into the
nothingness of the
green-tinged sky.

"Moments like these,
I know all that karma
stuff is all bull."

Those are your words.
Not mine.

"Because no one like me,
should be this lucky."

There is no one like you.

A man out of time,
in stolen red duds.
tricorn hat tipped
to the side.

That smirk,
that damnable,
smirk, plastered,
forever to your smug mug.

Your ruddy hand
reaches back.
Open palmed
full of scars.
To grasp my mine.
Much smoother skin.

"Come on love,"
you say,
with your voice
full of gravel.

*"Lets get this freak show
on the road."