Tell me about the world through my dreams... A green meadow blowing on the breeze of your sneeze.
The blue river flows within a see through view.

Tell me of the meaning within my dreaming ... On which side of wanting  does the world bleed into.
Both are cruel, and simultaneously in good. When love hurts within transitions into a mission of self deliverance.

Tell me of the world through my dreams... A Nefelibata in nature. Soaring far over head. With clouds of white as my wings. I fly... Until all is lost.
And I awake.

-then-

I
Fall
To
Earth

I am not a pleasant person, or even really all that nice.
Instead imagine me as the broken glass you backed over and now are left with a flat tire.
The one black sock in your load of whites, staining the fabric in shame.
That annoying buzzing in your ear that never goes away.
The wall you stubbed your toe on in the middle of the night and screamed, "*******!"

I am not a Sunday morning
or even
a Friday night's lay.
I'm a Monday, 5PM traffic hour just waiting to flip you the bird.
I am the gum on the sidewalk which you happened to step in.
I'm a disaster.
A train wreck.
The red stain on existence, that won't ever come out.

I'll never will be any thing like, a simple smile. Or even a timeless wonder.

I am the darkness that dances in the light.

I am me.
Unpleasant and really not that nice.

A face within the shadows. Held before the high Queen, a perched Angel on her shoulder. Watching from above in woe. She died held within his wings of sorrow. Feathers of white, adorn her ****** head a crown. Eyes of candle lit affliction touched her ******* as it no longer rose, to fall.

Warned- of the consequence for showing any empathy. This Angel turned from the benediction of his once reverent Father. Emotions unlike no other, traced his soul with a grace of its own. His beloved Queen: the one who moved him so far from the radiant Light. Now lain to rest in a nameless plot.

He was warned of these sorts of emotions. Warned of what would befall the cause...

Now see here, this is where our dreadful tale comes to a harsh & grievous ending... A punishment befitting the sinful crime. The mark; of the fallen. A brand, burnt into the Angel's flesh. The ungodly sign of his corruption, for all his brethren to bare witness. Stripped of his God given wings, this accursed angelic creature was banished from heaven... Where he belong, out amongst the other sinners and the fallen.

**Fin

I didn't start existing to you, until a moment ago when you started reading the words I am writing.
A random person behind the poetry lines.
A thought turned into an idea to read.
I don't know you.
and you don't know me.
but for a moment we exist together with letters and words scrolling through a white paper occurrence.

I give the meaning, and you illuminate the reason.
A give and take kind of semblance of a relationship.

I'll never meet you face to face, nor will I ever feel your hand in my own.
But for a moment we existed together in harmony.

and it was wonderful!

A white knight, shining in golden armor.
The apple in your eyes.
A step to close.
Asking for far too much.

I asked myself, did I lose a part of myself?
Only receiving an answer full of poisonous snakes.
It makes me ill, thinking of your face.
Won't you take me out of my cage?

Was I a knight, shining in golden armor,
or was I just a step too close?
Did I ask for too much?
My soul for redemption.
Tarnished from your touch.

I'll tell you any thing;
a mouse standing tall in front of a snake.
My armor shining golden.
I'll tell you anything;
about how rare it's actually seeing your face.
The vague reflections of what we had.
--and I know you'll **** me in the end.

But I want to know...
   I want to know...

Am I anything at all?

His** smell. I could never define it properly. You never can, with scents. There are never words to describe them floating in the air after a rainstorm, nor the smell of a freshly cut grass, on a warm summer's day.

His scent was dark and musky: the shadows of an expensive aftershave, cigarettes burning slowly, the smell of home gliding on his skin.

Those, and a thousand other things I could never place my finger upon. It all combined to make up Him. The most comforting smell in the world

We don't need no wookie, Tony.
No, wookie, Tony.

You don't need no wookie, Tony.
No, wookie, Tony.

We all dance to the beat of a drum.
Our rhythm of life.
The sound, the pattern...
pounding within our chest.

We live,
we breath,

Spending our whole life,
looking for a certain cadence.
A beat to match our pulse.
It isn't until our hearts merge
that the pattern turns into a song.

A measure of first love,
the tempo of a kiss.
Flowing together in a musical harmony.

We dance,

Whistling together,
the sweet tune of ours.
A movement of passion,
the melody of marriage.

and we die

Changed forever,
as the song fades out.
Our souls made music together.
One, epic ballot.

I don't want to wake this night.
Your face memorized behind my eyes.
A lie lingering into a sense of validity.

There is no you,
but within here.
Within the walls of my mind.
I can see you.
I can feel you.

You're alive.

I don't want to let this go.

Day light peaking through the cracks now,
and I'm pleading with the Lady of the Morning to delay her rise.

If only I could reverse time,
Just a second in the past.
A moment longer just to trace your face.

A sweet serenity laying in my bed.
Touching false reality in dreams of efflorescence.

I know I should wake,
but no...
Please not this time.

Just stay with me, a moment longer.
Tell me, everything will be alright..
I don't want to let you go.
Never let me go.

This poison is intoxicating. A drug sending you into the oblivion. Enraptured by the taste and the feeling of impeccable deliverance. It's just what the doctor order, a spoonful of laced sugar. A placebo effect with nothing but the risk of cancer eating away your insides. Green in color, like the skin beneath the coating of a candy apple. It enters your system like a rock through a glass window. Shattering reality, while constructing a world of make believe.  

This addiction is poisoning. An intoxication crawling inside her veins. The ever present itching there just below the girls pale skin. Waiting for her next fix.

One more hit...
Just one more.
O'please, give me more.
More;
more;
more;

This poison is blinding, an addiction of the soul. The disorder of the weak mind, with nothing else to hide.

One more hit...
Just one more.
O'please, give me more.
More;
more;
more...

Word spoke in malice,
turn to silver as they roll off the tongue maniacally.

Intention of a depraved notion swivel backward in their motions.
Evil succumbing to the power of provocation.
The sin and burden of wrathful anger trickled down into one simple action.  
An act of devotion...
The willful way of degradation.
Hypersensitive reaction to the extraction.
Asking to be acquitted of your transgression...
How does a Devil ask an Angel to condone such an act of wickedness?
Trespassing on unhallowed ground, and living within a ****** lie.
The error of time...
Feathers of white on a whim of a demon.

When does the madness of your demise separate oneself from the act of humanity.
In death?
Or in the will to live?
These question have been asked from the beginning of time.
The answer are yet, still to be found.
Find solace within yourself.
Stop letting the sins of others weigh into uneven hands.
They're not your's to own or to even know.

In lieu the knowledge I have bestowed.
Go forth and live your life.

Happy, peaceful and in the never ending search of grace.

I'll remember you as you were.
Innocent; out against the bluest of blue.
Where the sky hangs low,
on the veil of green lands.

I'll think of you.
From time to time.
With a soft thought,
and a gentle smile.

A fond memory,
To get me through
this storm.

However,
I'd cut off my own hand,
before I ever reach for you again.

For you are the thorns
on a red, red rose.
The gleaming needle waiting
to be threaded.
The nefarious laced poison
dipped in candy.

I wouldn't dare reach for you.
Because the pain may fade,
But the scars you left,
Will always be the same.

Listening to my little one as he takes his night-time shower.
Me lounging and relaxing to the sounds around me.
His cute little voice, with a song on his tongue.

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! happy birthday to you.

The little voice doesn't care he lacks the entirety of the song.
He just enjoys singing it to the cat,
who sits out side the shower glass  door,
for the little man inside the walls of steam,
to let the odd cat inside to play.

**fin

I'm just done.
Today was lame.
It being never ending.
So, I am finished.
No more.
The end.
Goodbye.
Glad it's over.
Never to experience it again.

Too much ******* from everyone.
Nothing wanted to work.
A screaming grumpy kid.
With copious amount of lack of sleep.

I am just done.

This isn't a cry for help.
or me begging for attention.

I am just done with today.

"I could actually, win," I said to myself.

Then reality hit me in the face.

And I lost, before I could even try.

Children's laughter,
fading echos.
Hidden deep; rooted within the wood.

The smells of forgotten coats and dusty carpets,
as we squeezed inside the family's wardrobe.
A secrete, kept within a child's sacred memory's.
Distant reflections hanging on the fabric of the colorful cupboard.
Our savored innocence, smeared on into adulthood.

Giggling, as we played.
Conscious of the time we bared.
The simple purity of a child's endless games.

How we've forgotten the easiness of the virtue of being young.
The transparent need of just breathing you in.

Two friends, growing beside one another.
One a boy and the other...
Well, she is a girl.
A girl,
No, not something so vague--
A woman,
Who's lips, burns with a redden kiss.

Our childhood stored within the endless wardrobe,
the lust of our youth, suspended forever in dust and wood.
Hidden within the fading echos of times since lost.

I never told you how I love you,
but I carved it into our wall.

A♥J

The mark forever branded.
On my soul to bear.
We are human,
no matter the age.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I speak these words as I lock them away.
To the back, hidden beneath the skeletons in the closest.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

A noose around my neck, these words they are.
A dead man hanging with flowers adorn to crown.

Grown mans tears,
fading with echos.
Hidden deep; rooted within the wood.

I loved you, why couldn't it be so simple?

**fin

It wasn't until her back was turned,  she realized her grave mistake. His knife slipped in silently between her ribs. With little effort it pierced her heart. The shock and shame. The ridicule, it was all the same.

She died knowing where to lay the blame.

A gambit man's choices hidden up his sleeve,
constructed by shadows and twisted lies of forgery.

Joy; desire; and anger.
Three tricks saved till the bitter end.
A dangerous hand played at the lion's share.

Two chances.
My only choices.
Love and jealousy,
a metaphor based on your zealously.

Your greed surpasses my sorrow.
By the way of desire,
to hold someone down by using fists of binding love.
A firm grasp beating me down till I'm black; black; blue. Black and blue.

What do you want from me?
What are your demands?
What do you think you're getting out of this?

It's one or the other!
Not two sides of the same coin.

What do you want from me?
What are your demands?
I am bound to find out.

So, just give me a reason,
to keep on believing.
I'm lost and I'm not understanding.

Make me understand.

Explain why your mouth is smeared with lies.
I can see the stains,
Painting your skin amber shades of infidelity.

It's one or the other!
Not two sides of the same coin.

It should've been a paradigm of our souls.
Not a paradox blending into a maze.

Look at how far we've come,
the pain we couldn't escape it.
Blood on our souls, passion licking at our heels.
Tell me how I should never give up,
that dazzling battle of misery and avidity.

Broken, weeping, blossoming and scattering these feelings.

Make me understand.
I just want to understand.

There is a lesson to be learned here. Maybe even a few.

I've been so angry.
So angry, I fear I might lunge at myself. My reflection shattering into a million peices, with the shards lodged in my chest. Churning and turning.

I've lost sight on things that should never, ever be misplaced. My heart on my sleeve, snipped away from a fraying string.

Know this: A man with out his heart is worse than a lion missing his courage. The fates takening, so where is the wizard to give back what I've lost?

There is no golden road to follow... Nothing but a ****** river to cross over on.
But where do we walk, when all the bridges have been burnt?

A lesson. A lesson to be learned.

Where do you go after the wolfs destroys your house, blown your stick home to the ground? Either in his belly or ****** and broken on the ground.

A lesson. A lesson to learn.

Never trust what you can not see, taste or hear... Then again, it's just not wise to trust anyone at all.

My muscles ache from the emotional burdens you constantly place on my shoulders.

My bones creak from the additional weight, I'm barley able to carry.

I drag my feet along in the dirt.
My knees, weak and trembling from the great effort of not falling face-first to the ground.  

Instead, I carry on.
Walking with my head held high.
Far from the murky dirt, below my feet.

I may ache and creak from the strain.
But I'll be ****** if I'll crumble under your backward ideology.

You could never feel my story.
Every word written in between the lines.
Scrawled in the deepest shades of my morality.

I'll hand you a box, full of my darkness.

It'll be years before you realize, this was a gift, to understand my story.

You smell like pure warmth, sweet and heady, like a muggy summer night just after a heavy rainfall; earthy. A wet cedar, woody scent with an undertone of citrus. You smell of home, a sheltered blanket of safety.

=^.^=                                                            ­      * A
                                                       ­         A    thousand and one chances;
                                               A         thousand and one chances;
                                         thousand     and       one
                           A thousand and        one    chances;                                
                A thousand and    one      chances;    
      A thousand and one chances;
              and      one
              one    chances;­                                                                 ­                                           
          chances;          *                                   ­         
                                                       ­          **To be who you really are.

In death.
A grave marked (Y)ours,
Remains, an empty plot.
The story left unfinished.
A poem left to rot.
The fraying ends of a lover's knot,
cannot and will-not meet the end
at the melting ***.
It will remain an empty plot,
wrought with metal and without a  
weak-spot.
For true loves knot,
cannot and will-not
ever come to naught.

Ashes on the water.
  The phoenix rising from the debts.

Fire in the water.
  The phoenix turning into a sylph.

Air rising over the water.
  The freedom after the water stills,
     death becomes her once more.

Till all begins again.

Forced to sit on idle hands,
       watching as the snake slips
                    belly first inside your home.
                                  Into his place, his life, your wife.


Oh, what a life he's stolen.

"No." I beg of you.  For I've already sinned by far too much. Merely looking at you, touching your skin with only my eyes. Your face behind my closed lashes, trying to engrave your memory. Every freckle, every blemish, creases, lines or scars. I've sinned by far. My thoughts of you, circling within my brain, are not of innocent notions but powerful in our intimate devotions.

Please I beg of you... Take me backwards in slow motion. So, I might get to relive the moments. This time without emotion. To rewrite the blight upon our plight into our new separate life's...  

I beg, no more.

Affection; dark like the inside of love.
Lust; burning low as an ember would.
Beauty; the peeking hills on a summer morning.
Purity; of a frighten dove.  
Wrath; unlike any storm.
Bravery; derived from a cross.
Burdens; carried through life.
Kindness; earned in trust.
Sorrows; paid from flesh.
Intelligence; skills honed from labor lost.
Vindictive; only to those who are found deserving.
Strength; a soul who carries too much.
Impassive; on the surface.
Passionate; to the core.

Attributes, I see them, hidden in you.
Don't you want to see them too?

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.

When I just was a girl,
with pink ribbons and skinny, bony legs.
I was naïve, without a care in the world.

I'd dream of the someday,
of what the future would become.
I didn't know about the heartache, pain,
the struggles lain out before me.
I knew nothing of the mountains I (w)could climb.
Nor the mud I'd crawl(ed) through.

In my perfect world, I was in a bubble.
In a valley that would drop
my feet out from under me.
I would fall.
Trailing into the arching past.

I would pay every dollar, I couldn't afford,  
Just to go back to being that skinny, bony child, draped in her pink ribbons.
Lost in my naïve world of 'what's to become...'

I focus on the end.
The only thing which matters.
A path for my feet to walk upon.
The road of stains and mistakes,  
inky foot prints left in my wake.

Thick clouds of smoke billow from her mouth.
The taste of cigarettes and whiskey lingering on a pink tongue.
A woman-- With eyes of an angel
but a body of nothing as saintly.  
She beckons through the nebulous crowd.
Lips gleaming red from obvious sins.
Hips swaying ripened to a hypnotic beat.

Will you, (insert name here) go to her?
To indulge in her hidden desires?

A gentlemen of scholars, without a single dollar.

Will you, a man made of valor, rush to her?

Fighting it only makes the urge stronger.
Eternal darkness will never know an end;
the sinful devil in her tiny black mini dress.
She is a demon in nightmare form,
nefariously wrapped in silken weaved candy.

Her call is strong...
Her voice soft.
She beckons you;
   --will you fall?