We met through proximity,
but didn't use that to convene.
We learned so much about each other through a screen,
But we've let each other truly be seen.

With our many shared interests,
and our vastly different pasts,
help us clearly see our paths.

How enchanting this has all been,
to now call you a friend.

"I walk these cold empty streets at
night,
Without knowing how to make it 
right,

As you sleep in your warm
bed,
I can't fathom how to make it
ahead.

Will you know I wandered
past,
Ponder it as you break your
fast?"

With the world as your
muse
Your thirst grows for beautiful
views
That will take you to faraway
places
Into rare alpine air
Which will entail a climbing
thrill
But that caused your unfortunate
spill
Now in this incapacitated
state
You have your toil with a painful heal
And you have to beg the world to
wait
But the world will watch with endless eyes
As we have to laugh at our eventual demise

A cold night with the wind cutting right through it.
My anguish being swept up in all the rising thoughts.
The sound of rustling leaves running through the streets.
Startle me as they pass my feet.

Funny how the moon can bathe away the pain,
Other times just illuminate it brighter.
Hard to blame the moon for keeping the darkness lit.

Running to catch an unraveling sphere,
Always running,
Running after my leaving siblings,
I trail in their laughter
As it rains on me,
me,
so easily left behind,
Everyone waits with a blank face around me,
Till they know nothing worthy will follow,
I follow,
They laugh at
the joke with no punchline.

I will stand at the chair in front of my father's empty desk.
The one place I know,
that he truly wants to be at in this house.
I wish I could garner the attention he wants to embed to these inanimate objects.
I stare at them,
wondering how to become that important.
Maybe it's something that comes with age.

My family is always so capable,
I can't even skip a stone on still water,
How pathetic.
So easy
they make it seem.

I am always waiting to be their age,
To finally matter,
I wait,
In total wonder of their capabilities,
I'll never be fast enough to catch up in age.
Forever waiting behind.

The baseball falls in the grass, the red stitching coming undone.
My father pleased that we're together, playing ball.
Not an interest of mine,
just the generic thing a father does with a son.
So obvious,
that he wants to be back in that empty chair.

When I was 10, I had a hamster.
Its whole world was in my room,
It's life in the hands of a child.

My whole world was on 10 acres of land,
In the hands of two grown children.
Their hands as reckless as mine.

How does something grow within a cage.
Does freedom have a place in it's mind.
How to acquire the thoughts of freedom,
Of peace.
Will the captured know when the cage door is gone, with nothing holding it in.
How will it even recognize grass underfoot,
A world beyond 10 acres,
and the hamster wheel gone.

You flood the corridors of my mind
With teachings of empty promises
Intended for the blind

Holy lies, forced on my eyes
A poison now swells in my veins

In self-fulfilling prophecy
You create a hell on earth
Burned, I rise from the ashes of my childhood

Well intentions, wound just as deep
These burns my only keepsake

From my innocence
I craft my disguise
to blend with those who believe your lies

As an imposter among my peers
None of which, can ever see my tears

Hidden now I lay,
No amount of your fear
Will bring me back near

Your cross,
The prison which you will hang

Shadows shake and cause waves across the grass,
We lay in the safety of the willow's shade,
Spring's early appearance showing in the buds,
So vibrant against the blue skies.
Love's blossom is in us,
In our early season of love.
The Sun giving us the warmth for our growth.
as we laugh and learn what makes the other grow.

Your love poured over me, I was idle while soaking in your every ounce, that seeped into my every pore, 
I became so accustomed to your gift of Life,
  I lost my ability to tread water,
    now helpless as

       I  
          gasp
    
             and
  
               drown.

The distant wind is a shadow sound, I've been a castaway before, praying for its signs.
Wanting its freshness on my cheeks,

I'm a vessel out at sea now, you an island patiently waiting for shipwrecks.

The purity of the ocean shows a clean reflection,
but a glance of an old lover,
is like expanding air,
that will deafen the heart.

"A slave to your waters,
how I beg to kneel
and drink from you.

I feel so in control and powerful,
when under your influence.

Little do I realize,
how truly powerless I am,
when you're in me.

Under your grip,
with even one sip,
held so tight,
I have no life in sight."

"The Sun still brightens dead flower, a reminder that things can have beauty in death.
Dead or alive, both cast a shadow equally as dark.
Forgotten or not, a flower can have new life in the mind."

Walking in the pale evening dusk,
as the world slowy turns to it's darkened self.

The last Sun rays seeping from the sky.

The world should naturally fade to black.

But our artificial glow comes to light,
To keep us up all night.

Thoughts of you are like

Sunshine in my mind

A warm capsule of our time

I look at a photo of you,
I want the smile you wear to envelop me,
I want the softness you have to hold me,
I want the eyes that look into the camera,
to look at me with that same mutual knowing.
I want to know who was on your thoughts at that moment,
Who was the one who had made you feel that way,
With such a brightness it lightens my day.

You ask me "will I go."
I always say "no."
You ask "why stay at home?"
I always say "I want to be alone."
You say "why not come?"
I always say "my day is done."
You ask "don't you ever want to get out?"
I say "how clearly must I speak and shout?"

Once you've left,
how I wished I'd come.
I just couldn't leave my sadness behind and be done.
My loneliness wouldn't let me
speak out and shout "I want to get out, let my day still dawn,
please let me come and be free."

These things were always said
but only in my head.

Content in Solitary,
Loftily in the night sky,
Passing over tranquil hollows,
With peering eyes of deep perception,
Wisely then perched in tall trees of safety,
The owl awaits the nights unfolding,
Inside it knows all of the worlds holdings,
For the owl has learned from this place,
Hearing nature speak it's truths,
It has listened to the brooks babbling,
The soils endless turning turmoil,
All the trees as they speak in their creaks,
Even hear the softly breathing deer,
And the bats as they flutter near,
Hear the field mice speak in squeaks,
The moans in the night wind,
Of the coming of new season,
The splatter of the late night rains,
The rustles of falling leaves,
as life escapes these trees,
The howl of the hungry lone wolf,
All this knowledge being spoken for those who listen,
The owl in it's perch does not let their teachings fall on deaf ears.

one who wanders in thought, that's me
took what wasn't received, that's me
a man alone pulled to the side of the road,
eating lunch from styrofoam, that's me
a woman overcome with sudden painful sorrow,
where the warm streams open, that's me
a broken heart for childhood summers gone, that's me
a duck buoyantly adrift on the choppy river, that's me
where the light blue touches the horizon, that's me
the last lines on a page, that's me
lost in the hearts of strangers, that's me

Why can't every moment be our best moment?
A culmination tumbling down of events and actions.
That makes it something so unique,
It'll never be again replicated.
No matter how much you try,
The pieces can never be put back again,
In the puzzle that time had crafted.

I can still see those dark moments in my mind,
if I close my eyes and choose it so,
I see nothing but darkness,
except the light that comes from outside the house,
a light seeping in through my windows,
letting in the ambient darkness of the world,
that is lit by the waning moon,
everything a silhouette of its old form,
a darkened self,
I see this all so clearly,
like I still live in these dark moments now,
like I've never left the shadows cast on me,
always in this perpetual night,
that never leaves me.

In those moments of my past,
I was in the true reality of my being.

When we first met,
I didn't see you.
I was blind,
But you clearly saw.
Next time we met,
There was a spark and draw,
But my eyes were still adjusting and raw.

You knew the terrain,
But I was the one who refrained.
You acted like it was play,
But I was your prey.

The damages were done,
as we became one.
What I saw as communion and real,
Was just your nutrition and meal.

to search for a lost relic,
one known as a dream feeling,
wandering in a sea of races,
no place of peace found in these lands.

How do you miss someone you've never seen or touched?
If your eyes haven't held them in your gaze, can they not then be missed.
If you've never held this person in your hands or let your skin calmly rest against them,
Can you not miss the feel of their touch?
If you've never heard their laugh and sighs,
can you not miss the sound of their voice?
If I do fully experience all of these wonders,
How much harder will it be for me to experience it's true absence.
How much can a heartbreak over something it never had.
Do I get mad,
Investing all of myself in something,
I've never had?
Having my heartbroken by a Phantom,
An ideal,
A dream I'll always wake from,
A vision that is merely a mirage,
Maybe it's okay to hang my head in the clouds for the high,
Before the inevitable fall,
But I believe it's worth it all,
If I don't put myself in a position to be hurt, I'll never know how much I can love.
Or how much I am capable of loving, Being open to love in all it's forms,
Is a blessing and burden.

I wield an aura I didn't feel,
I must have unknowingly
repressed it,
Until you felt it and
addressed it,
I yield it to you,
So the world can feel how you'll
express it.

We can not force other's interests,
or
lead one's hand to journey across a book,
The galaxy of written accounts that go from heartbreak to triumphs,
that can line the walls of a simple room.
Leading us down the path of our own interest,
Something that we should hold sacred.
A thirst for knowledge,
Though not just to be lead,
But of our own understanding.
One could get lost and never be found and still, they could not read every ink-stained page.
Every individual writes a story, some choose blood over ink,
To let the world know of their passage through time.

Mary mother of God,
Watches as we make fun,
It's sacrilege,
I am not of the few,
As I mock them in their pews.
I can never fit into their mold,
It's okay,
Your smile is better than any of their riches or gold.
I come off the crucifix,
As my love is born again

Grey, how to describe it,
All of its hazy ways to amaze,
It's a smoke that rises from a blaze,
It'll greet you at the dawn of a dreary day,
A streak of it will scurry across your kitchen floor,
It'll tower over you and spit on you all day,
wishing for the end of May.
It's the matter that makes us think and write a poem about it.
It's what allows us to not have to be so black and white.

Faded in the face of time's demise.
In the shadow of something once beautiful.
Of color,
So vibrant it stained me with love
in a blinding bliss.
Now the color has gone amiss. 
A black has drained out the red.
A dark new hue, 
I won't bare to witness. 
I only see the deadness now left,
With our void,
Neither of us with the might,
To reach inside,
And redirect love's light,
To keep a life going,
And reverse this Rose's plight.

The End..

Fin...

Where to now begin?

Then?

After an End?

Hands running over my
cool sheets,
Alone in my deafening bedroom,
I call out your name,
Which comes out in a silent moan,
Yr Love is a stain that pierces my heart with every beat,
With U I could never learn to
Touch the abyss I'd left inside.
I'll never
Know Where these echoes in my hollow home lead.
Maybe I'll
Feel Something for once in this desolate plight.

"The time it took a leaf to form,
and fall away from a tree,

Took you half as long to form love,
and fall away from me."

How to dream in this world,
when the light shines so dim,
through this heavy haze of perception.

Where to cast my light,
who is to be trusted to see a darkness lifted?

With eye's clenched shut,
A whole filled with my space.

Two souls crashing together.
With a hope to be filled, with nothing to give in return.
    A routine with no results.
Two empty souls reaching in union.

My feet sinking into an avalanche of sand.
   My only wish, to go back
    And to have your hand.

Perfection is beauty left in sight,
the rest lays in darkness,
for knowledge to be it's uncovering light.

Waters soft sound

parting the air,
  
   Sand moving over

my skin,

    Your hand

parting mine."