He drew a red a heart on the white wall, his world was one of love.

Painting pictures helps to remember the shape of love;
Love in hell, life and above.

I love therefor I am, without it I am shadow from light filling the void.

I drink from your lips, honey like wine.
You drink from my heart, love like herion- addicted to each other.

Pumping the core making the body move and yet so slow do we fall because without it we speed up to hit the ground.

I love and lost and I'll love and lose again, this is the circle of which I choose to spin.

He drew a black heart on a red wall to express passion and lust but all he had was anger, for in losing her he knew he'd never get her back.

He knew she was with someone better, someone bigger.

****** issues led to the break and now his heart was shattered.

She left knowing he could do better, she had a secret she didn't want to share, she had a lost a child and could never love again. She lied to leave relationships before she got too close to lose again.

She drew a blue heart on a green wall and under that she wrote a poem to the child she laid to rest.

Hearts on walls being left to fade, color and time and as foundation cracks so does art.

Love only counts when its remember by the age, for we move on from what love was to what love is.

The child had been touched, beaten, ignored, the child had been cold to the heart so the child drew a white heart on a white wall and under it the child wrote "**** it all"

Bleeding hearts turn the cycle, we spin the tales and in the we feel

Deformed and slapped together, Dr. Leonardo Frankenstein was father.

Against science and god I am birthed from the rubble and chaos of a pop culture gate that split the two worlds.

My soul is old yet I'm a child in a body of middle age, I am stuck halfway between mortal and divine, I am conflicted about my inner workings because I fully understand them yet I understand them to know they cannot be fully understood, father says I am perfect and in his perfection he has found flaws, so I am perfectly flawed.

Halfway between a friend a threat, I resent all yet I do not repent.

I am the Godchild of Man's love of self, I am art and therefor can be sold.

To market I go, scrap my pieces and build a better creation.

I am flawed and so I was made out of a perfect image, the funhouse mirror reveals the truth, a distorted freak dressed in human clothes, I can talk like you, think like you, yet I'm a hodgepodge of humanity.

I am the atom bomb of humanity, ready to explode and take it all with me.

I lit a joint and finally sat down, the sweat ran from my forehead as the heat cooked the street. I was saved by the voice on the radio.

Her voice led me to light
Like a child I was wondering through the day and cowering in the night.

I heard her prayer on the radio and I was able to rest, searched for so long I forgot what I was looking for, the devil was in the details and she cleared up the red tape.

Kissed my forehead and cast me into sleep, kept me safe.

The journey of life had reached it's end. I was a good soldier and did my part, now I rest.

I took a drink and closed my eyes, feet up on the desk as the sun hung high over head- whatever happens tomorrow is a different day but right now I could bask in whatever peace I deserved.

Her voice was a prayer in the dark, an in the dark I had worked enough.

She kissed my forehead and with it I was blessed another day.

Mistress Mistress skin my back and teach me to sin

Mistress Mistress take me to your whim and control I grant you.

Cure my heart of pain, for the world at large is one of torment, I am the fool, I am the fool for you. I lick your boots and give you my skin.

Control is love and I am out of both, I am a skinsack of lust and greed, nothing more than a vessel for your control.

Angel of my fear, collect my tears as holy water so you can baptize me a saint of sin, the dark heart bleeds on a cross of latex.

Desire burns like a wildfire, one I fueled under cover and hidden away from the dark, the waking world I walked away from as there was nothing left for me.

Pictures hung on the wall
they laid in a photo album
stuck in a wallet
uploaded to a computer

We had the memories of yesterday, looking back we were young, we were wild and reckless.

One for all and all for one and through fire and fury, through hell and highwater, we fought back to back.

Weddings and funerals of the days gone by, but we've got the pictures to prove we have the scars, yet the older we get brighter those black and whites seem.

Every night if it's a nightmare in technicolor, I glance to the past and know that you too have those nightmares and then I remember I'm not alone and sleep becomes easier.

Five years turned to twenty-five turned to fifty and old age consumed us, and we burned like stars in the night sky.

We lost touch but we keep the pictures alive and well so we know who we were.

And no one can take that away.

Leather and lace and in ******* we trust, for trust is where we find each other.

Words of affirmation lead to gifts of temptation, time spent together revealed trust in one another and respect hand in hand.

Birds of a fountain pen write together and bonded words scrawled in blood on stone, time runs through sand and we are not alone.

Hourglass.

sand over sand equals time and time again, thick and thin means better or worse and any port in a storm, safe harbor from the soft words that would fall apart from lesser men who would woo you to unsuccessful avail, and ivory towers high above shelter from the storm that was.

What was is past and what is shall be and together through bonded hearts and a future paved in uncertainty but together hand in hand we become sand.

Time and time again