Faded ink.
Deep, majestic black to a shy blue
hints at a thrill that no longer thrives
but serves an imprinted reminder
of a time that breathed happiness.

Around and around,
days into nights,
we grew into each other
without notice.
Weighted contours
made beautifully complex shapes,
we’d  twist and curve
harmonic and sound,
constantly moving
in these flawless, repeating circles.

When it ends—
[and it will,
because the monotony
of the same motion
will scare you]
you’ll be left wondering how
you could sit there and become
so immersed in something
that was so perfect and simple.
Perfectly simple.
You stop and step back.
You breathe and regret.
You take it in and admire.
The saddest part
is to realize that this piece is left
unfinished.
No closure, no color,
just the monotone outlines
of some gorgeous, accidental idea.

I'm not afraid of dying.
Rather I find it annoying.
Because I need know what civilizations will be like in thousands of years
but I have no way of knowing.

The end of existence is much like before.
The quiet, peaceful-nothingness.
We are all heading towards.

This is the reality to which I'm confined.
A consciousness limited in body and mind.

Can you teach me how to smoke,
At the indoor pool?
Cannabis and chlorine
On a night so cool.
I can ditch the white pills
Without crushing the moon,
If you can roll something up
Without killing the mood.
         What's left to prove
If it's just me and you?
I mean, you and I
Decide
If we have any rules.
We can feel, we can chill.
We can deal with the truth.
                   Cannabis and chlorine.
Fuse green with the blue.
Cannabis and chlorine.
A mixture of hues.
All you gotta do
Is make my lungs so confused.
Cannabis and chlorine,
When it's just me and you.
Can you teach me how to smoke
At the indoor pool?

I'm not taken aback by the beauty of the sun or moon.

But that's okay, at least I've learned in time that there are very little differences between objects labeled mine and days considered wasted time. Entitlement is a false concept paralleling a religious purgatory.

That's not the point anyways. I'm left with unbearable heat and a pool of thoughts best resembling some sort of molten pudding left out in the sun for weeks of stifling inattention.

Let it just be known that the smell was not my intention.

Regardless of what fills your nostrils ephemerally, keep in mind that this stench haunts me perpetually. It's apathy towards my sensitive skull stifles me. It's as if I was able to just shake off these shadow-inducing invaders like a bad habit. But no matter how much you try to **** a shadow, it's always there following you. Breathing on you. Casting oxygen upon your neck until there's nothing but sweat and fear left to expose.

With such an affinity to what darkness lies behind me, there are few words to authentically compose.

How can I continue? How can the beat stay in rhythm and my words stay in tune when I'm a butterfly stuck in a cocoon? If these hollowed walls could speak I bet they'd entertain the idea on meaningless entrapment.

Go now. My words for this horrid state of mind have run dry. They do nothing but mask themselves and then exponentially multiply.

So leave me for the beauty of the sun and the moon. I'll never wish anything more than a simple, concurrent release of everyone from his or her respective cocoon.

I asked the sun to cast his light,
Only then will she open her eyes,
Cocooned in her blanket sleeps my butterfly

The sun said," I do not want to burn the dream off her eyes,
Let her wake up first and only then will I rise"

I'm really trying
Honest
To stick to my guns
And not let
My heart get out
Of my hand
But like some child
Urging me to play in the rain
Your simple elegance
compels me
To accept the downpour
Weathering into a puddle
At your feet
I look up
I am the child
And I just want you
To hold the hand
Where my heart used to be
And not let go

what if in the night i let my girl-heart out
its muffled murmurs, its soft
unfolding sounds;
let it go completely

would i almost learn how to settle in life
learn to unbloom the bruises
on skin too tight
to remove completely

would i lose colour and find it among flowers
would i lose colour at all