Constant wrinkles in their eyes,
These eyes that have seen a world's ***** laundry
All of which has been rinsed in the tears of time,
An ungodly sight; so long and behold
As you've lived your life by an act, without a role
Preying on your failures, and worshiping them as a Lord.

Life is but a place of all the prettiest butterflies,
Burning red; and dangerously bright as the desires in an eye
We all fail to see anything less important, than what makes
Us seem much more important, than all others in our lives
Death will always be that whisper, that only the dead
Will truly know what it speaks
And as the piece of yourself tears itself away from mortal flesh;
I do pray you find an immortal peace.

You'll soon be forgotten in due time,
Wiped away from existence, as we wipe away your memory
With a smile over your life, in these soon to be funeral tears.

                                                I fear I must bid you all goodbye.

As I lay my head upon your tender cheeks,
they become my comforting cushions,
cradling my mind as I drift into sleep.

The melodies of soothing lullabies
resonate deeply within my weary eyes,
carrying me into the promise of a new day.
In the intimate embrace between us,
a damp and intimate space, I find myself
irresistibly drawn to the alluring scent of your essence.

It beckons me, enticing me
to lose myself in the depths of your gaze,
to become completely consumed by the beauty
that lies within you.

As talk is always cheap,
even with the most expensive words
And I could never sum up enough of the
words, to tell you all of your worth.

                So sort of speak, let's just quietly cuddle.

As the curtains draw to a close,
it's always best to mind your manners,
Clear your throat before you start
to cough and cause a stir.
But if clearing your throat was
a punishable offense,
You might as well brighten up
the room with a warm smile.

I keep words to myself
as like the presence you keep
and present it to a word in small portions
-as the presents I have, as it's gift
present thoughts that soon become
a presentation for the future,
as your strength at times challenges the weak
In a period of how long I should respond
to hateful words; I know at times it takes
about a week.

Constantly saying, "I'm fine, I'M FINE,"
as shown to a man, as a pricey kind of
response, and ticket to nothing close to
freedom, and depression being it's fine
As I've tried to propel myself forward
into a fake kind of happy, one row at a time,
Still I'm likely stuck in the line of my own
frustrations, and waiting to picked out of
that row.

Still call me a sinner,
someone to at least say, "I've seen it all"
maybe to have sin for all
I should have said no, but I'd use that
careless phrase, "I didn't know, I DIDN'T KNOW."

                   Nah, my subconscious always knew it all.

Invisible crosses,
crossing out the days I
had no faith
As if monsters don't already
live in my head,- making me question
if I'll ever be heading in the right direction
From feeling like a dusty old Bible,
unattended to, and in servitude to to
most of my unclaimed confessions.

Could have been close to the ties
of me looking for change from the tithes
But I'll live a quarter of a mile, on
a quarter of my minds tank
I'm a bit too tanked to give anymore thanks,
any more funks, to dance around an n for
the wrong spelling of empty, and make
out as something you should c,- I have no ***** to give.

how i know i can't swim,
we somehow drifted apart
and i could have taken the advise of Moses,
and split the waters in between us in two,
-but tell me if love wasn't made for two
while i butter you up with sweet words
to have you as a spread
still feeling anxious as two ticks of
a message, still unread.

.....tying, tying,
i still doubt i'm your type,
that sort of guy you like cos
he liked you first,- you must call me cute
and i feel myself trapped in an  unwelcome
phenomenon -really feeling acute
but if you could feast on my eyes, you'd
fall prey to your hunger, if i gave the right look.

maybe i should tattoo my words
for their intentions to stick
but even a subtle taste, bite and a lick,
can at times overstep the tingles rushing
down to your feet. so i do prefer to kiss
but before the kiss, tell me if we'll be
trading skin for skin, or shedding skin off skin
cos we both know kiss will always
rhyme with hiss.