color dripping from the clouds,
dousing the crystal oceans
with waves like prisms.

tides drawing in hues—
playing warm shades like a symphony
and cold in leveled harmony,

but as we watch the greys fall
from the sky like ashes,
we weep in tones of silver and gold.

you are...
a question i cannot ask
without answering another

am i that smile?
or did serendipity
make me a hero?

im taking breaths but i still cant breathe
reading bottoms of bottles like tea leaves
and i can't see past my nose

so what if i'm a mess
who cares
face down in the sand

so what if im a mess
who cares
i can still feel your hands

im taking steps but not with ease
pulling at the strings of my own disease
and i cant even move my hands

running and scheming my brain
always leaving impossible feeling of dealing
and playing childish games of gaining grins
shootung guns of gifts giving garbled guidance

so what if im a mess
who cares
hair spun up in knots

so what if im a mess
who cares
i cant stop being lost

the dogs bark
and the caravan progresses

the children cry
but the world spins

your passive immortality
will bring you nowhere,
but back to me.

a small scab on my
left pinkie—

it would heal by
the end of the night,

if i had only left it
alone.

Bees. Circling my ears,
I hear their buzzing like
remote drums.

They sting me with color—
flashes of green and violet,
their touches so distant.

To breeze in my home,
my mind drifting and
going with the flow of my blood.

Faces oscillating past,
hundreds melding into one,
yet I’d stake my life it was you.

I swim through the air, closing my eyes from
the pain of keeping them open—
somehow I can see with perfect vision.

Darkness, all but the stars,
enveloping me in their arms.
Ah, such a wonder to rest at last.

softly in the moonlight,
your silver hands on my cheek.
eyes with flecks of silver
you drape me in silky starlight.

i touch your arms—
golden sparks trickle up my fingers,
heat flooding my vision,
as i melt into your embrace.

i’m snagged in
the hugs that don’t hug back

i’m all tangled up in
the girl who can’t be tracked

let the sound of the music
drown out the check engine light
as your pulse beats to the drums

running and falling
does not scare me.
because if I hit the ground,
at least I’d feel something.

It looks like a solid fastball,
straight as an arrow flying over the plate.
Whats that?
A big swing and a miss...

maybe next inning.

Run towards danger, my love—
the quicker you get there,
the faster we’ll meet again.

one with the rust,
trickling into the soils--
one more sip i just
gotta watch the smoke coil...

you can taste the sorrow
on my lips—
forming my mouths apology,
before i could.

Nothing good ever
happens to me.
Perhaps it’s a
self-fulfilling prophecy!

in your stomach, in your lungs—
what is it you’re running from?

to my core, all for the fun,
but in the end i’ll run towards your gun.

“Shall we live—
just to see if we can?”

She grinned wickedly,
lips touching both ears.

She posed the question
as if I went by “Eve,”

And so I said “why not?”
then tried my hardest.

But alas,
she was nothing but a parasite.

if it takes a bullet,
to stop your hurt—
then i shall take it
with pride

and i’ll carry you home—
limping with your arms
on my shoulders,
and we’ll walk home.

tuck you in with my warmth,
give you the last of
hope and love—
until i limp home.

Silk coated the plush,
your warm hands to greet me.
Soft caresses of my hair,
from a girl with hands softer.

Sunlight drifting in,
soft gold flakes dancing just for us—
warm open windows
to attract the sounds of society,

off-white, draping robes cover
lace-clad thighs—
smoother than thought possible.
All there for me to caress.

Time in molasses...
nowhere to be,
nobody to please,
except, of course, Her.

as the moon crests the horizon,
it lends its brightness
to the crystals of ice
dangling from the trees...

This ever-growing exodus
of one-hit-wonders
drifting through the air.
A single word
away from obscurity.

Perhaps it would be better
to never rise, only
to hit the ground with their tears...
and, most importantly—
follower count.

soft as snow—
she kissed me,
with a heat to melt
the world twice over.

soft and silent as snow,
rain coating your temples roof.

how i worship
the sweat on your brow...

then you kissed me with a heat
to melt the whole **** world.

will pursue meaning of life
fear of someday that will end
lose that human element

today, I existed—

my apologies.

i want to weave your weary words
into beautiful tapestries of light
and drape them on me.
mirroring the queen who dons her robes

To stand over the world,
to watch the turn of time—
I don’t think I’ll be ready
to take on the burden of a god.

So here I sit, waiting—
I will sit and watch until my last breath.
I will await my end, so hellbent on gods
that I will miss the time I had dreamed of.

the slam of your hands
on the steering wheel
in the middle of the night--
in rage or to the beat of the music,

That's where you'll find me.

******* you.

You smile
And you weasel your way into my lungs
And ****

Worse than a cigar
you linger on my clothes
For what feels like years

You tangle my hair
Turn it to dreds
And I won't comb them

a man crested his hill, he viewed the world around him. never before had he seen such ferociousness.

he was viewing something no souls had ever encountered. he was, for the first time in his life, the first.

he fell to his knees— water crashed below, as the tangles of pine closed in on his frail form.

he believed the world built this view for him, and only him. only— the world built this view for no reason.

the serendipity of the hill he collapsed on was marveled by the man. he wept. alone, in a world only he would ever see exactly as is.

cries to the heavens were silenced. his own drive to rise again fell off the cliff face. he simply watched.

vines creeped up his torso. snakes nestled under his legs. his hair melted with the spring thaw, then washed away with the rain.

his eyes never faded. his mind never dulled. he simply sat and waited. he waited for god to extend His hand.

what else should one do in front of the sublime?

i am sweaty,
dripping from the suns rays
casting on my brow,
and i don’t seem to mind—

just look!
i still don’t move
as i drench.
so be it.

she is
the chill swept over
frail skin—

held dear to the summer,

the thrashing
of warm raindrops
and sand

known only to the bare—

warm throughout,
but the chill still
tickles her skin

while her blood simmers.

I stumbled through the haze,
my feet searing with each step.
I couldn’t collapse
or I’d lose my skin,

Mumbles, from women dressed heavy,
“Looks like the bear got her…”
What bear?
Why didn’t the buildings cast a shadow?

No more sun. That’s all I beg,
no more greetings of warm smiles
with “She sure is a-beaming!”
flooding the desert.

The barn was up in flames.
I reach my hands out to the red
and feel a chill roll by me,
with fire giving me the shade I needed.

Lizards roasted in their pools,
horses sweat off saddles,
and here I meander all through town
practicing for my time down below.

take me to the nearest mountain.
i’ll bring snacks, the blanket,
you’ll bring you and a map.

we’ll sit and eat snacks under the stars,
all until the floods make us chew
with our mouths closed

ever so agonizingly,
i whisper to the void
to ****** a single wish—
that is, to submit to being full...

The story of you is a tale of woe—
I collected her things, all safely been stown.
When we first met, my mother taught me to sew,
and with your blood, I must let her go.

It was the dropping hairs,
falling from your all-too-tight ponytail
that made me love you—
you and your mess.

Shall we take a walk,
my lady? I am but taken aback!
You are truely a maiden as they say!
With eyes suited for stargazing.

Walk me through your garden—
shall I be a foot shorter, as you see it?
Perhaps I shall believe in magic
alongside kids.

Fair and just, just as my father says.
Perhaps he should meander through
your world and command me
in a suitable direction at once...

at last.

i brought my flowers
into the market square,
but when they all met the frost
they withered and turned bare.

i ran out of bread—
snow blocking my path home,
so i sold the last flower i had
and to god i must atone.

when you realize you don't care
that you're going to get wet,
you'll never need a jacket again.

There lived a man on the corner,
he was old and grey.
I smiled as I walked
past his box every day,

but he was no drunk!
Not a cigarette in his beard.
His hand soft as most rocks—
unable to be feared.

I offered him a home,
a roof and a treat
but he kindly declined—
firmly planted in seat.

I asked him one morning—
I had nowhere to be—
I asked him “why be hungry
when you can eat for free?”

He smiled to me,
teeth on perfect shelves—
He said “to prove I will always
be able to do it myself.”

He said to me
“kid, handouts can please
but when the weather gets warm,
watch how they flee”

“Wanna know why I’m here?
I could’ve built a house alone.
Now I’m too old to chop the wood,
so not on my own...

I would never live there—
not even a day.
If I didnt earn it,
I could never stay”

He laughed to himself,
hearty chuckle turned cough,
“be tough as hell, kid.
Kindness makes you soft.”