Kisses are delicate.
Never waste them.
I promise you that.

happy eyes, shining ethereal
upturned mouths, now sinking too fast
shaky hands
tight chest
clotted mind
these frames of life
hidden descriptions
of a delightful person
mistreated translations
she's less magnificent
just brilliantly human
like you and I
almond brown eyes
bitten bottom lip
cluttered words
sore chin
and ***** nails
she's tougher
than you
know

Darling, I know that you are
Confused.
Upset.
Lost.
Out of control.
And don't know why.
Have you ever punched the wall just to hear the smash of your hand crunching against the hard paint?
Darling please, you don't need to.
Just take a breath and hug yourself instead.
To feel the twinge of pain that radiates from your knuckles to your fingers to your palms, and, if you hit hard enough, to your shoulder blades?
Darling please, don't hurt yourself.
Too many people have done that already
Have you ever taken your hand down and stared at your hand, amazed that no evidence of your pain and anger and confusion is even there?
Darling please, you aren't alone.
You just need to stop hiding.
Have you ever stared at your mirror and begged your reflection to tell you why you have this gaping hole within you and
Darling please
All you want is answers
Darling please
All you need is a reason
Darling please
All you need is love
Darling please
Remember that love is all around you.
You just need to lower your fist
Open your palms,
Turn away from the mirror,
And listen.

it's become something of a cliché but
like most trite adages
for all its faults
it is not necessarily
lacking in validity

the journey itself is the destination

a phrase that conjures images
in one's head of subconscious
sojourns across arctic tundras
and windswept plains
savannas and mountain ranges
or perhaps astral and ethereal
projections of the psyche into
some pseudo-spiritual metaphor
for overcoming corporeal suffering
and psychological anguish

but it holds true too
to the metaphysical revolt
explored by Camus in
chapter two of his opus
on the spirit of rebellion

it is not enough to merely **** god
acts of deicide are at once
reactionary and revolutionary
imposing subtle dictatorships as
we merely claim a despot's
stolen throne for our
own whims and fancies

no
to resist the urge to become the master
to destroy dominance and empower each
other is the greatest test humankind will face
a constant struggle to pursue the
better angels of our nature

the means don't
justify the ends
the means
are the end

God would only talk to me
In a way I can understand

Where has that classic romantic gone?
The one that writes lines of poetry on paper, on skin
The soulful sway of the heart, taking out time to separate
Away from the world
Within the world
Like the feel of music under the skin
In the veins warbling its majestic tune against the chilled goose-flesh of feeling
The heart on the sleeve
On the chest
In the mouth.

Gravity its working against me
Taking away my breath
Collapsing my wild heart under the suffocating weight
Of that ragtime dime
That jaunting beat of social feet
Pulling me against the current

To a colder tune
Something somber filled with the lonely blues.

You can call me autumn
Cause I'm falling for you.

Here we go again with our
Little games, but this here's
A war zone, I'm in my finest hour.

Whatever you say, wherever you go
I will be with you forevermore.