I do not mean to be so difficult.
I do not mean to be irrational.
I do not mean to hide away from you,
And lie when you ask about my feelings.
It's not me.
It's you.
It's entirely you.
Because all I care about is you.
I pray for your well being
Far beyond my own.
You are my every waking thought.
You are my every peaceful dream.
You are every light I have ever seen
Since the day you vanished my darkness.
You are every perfect lovely thing
That not even in a hundred years
Could all the finest poets think up.
You are peace and perfection
And beauty incarnate.
You are my world.
But you are also every worry
That I have ever had.
You are every tear
That has ever fallen from my eye.
You are every heartache
I have ever endured.
You are every sleepless night
That has ever plagued me.
And yet I can not let you go.
For how could I let
Heaven's most beautiful creation
Slip through my fingers
As if I did not know what I had??
As if I did not know
That you are the miracle I saught.
As if I did not know
That I am blessed beyond all blessings.

try not to become so distracted
or maybe
become a bit more

get lost in something, whatever it may be. it is healthy to be challenged intellectually every once in a while. push your limits. find something you've never thought twice about and pull all of the emptiness and boredom and anxiety and twist it into something beautiful. dissect it, examine it, create from it. always give yourself permission to feel. we know this already, that logic and thought sometimes refuse to mix, so separate the two and create something impossible. challenge yourself. everything in this life can find ways to shove you down, but how will you overcome by laying stagnant?

holding your ground is not bad, but remember the things that bring you joy. loosen up. hold onto other things. look ahead a bit more often. immerse yourself in life.

the trees whisper
rustling, gilded intonations-
spilling secrets like honey
into the productive blue sky.
sunlight lurches through the trees
and cracks my foolish skull,
sending all of the thoughts
I had left alone in there
spilling over the golden
dappled forest floor.

you seep into my periphery,
delicate and half formed
amongst the moss and the earthworms.
I smile at the exoskeletons of
decaying memories;
crawl, crustacean-like,
sifting for something more tender-

dredging up phantom images
that flutter lazily across my eyelashes
and come to rest in greedy palms.
breathless mirth
and incorrigible melancholy
commingle in your shadow
and hold me fast.

you and I live and breathe
in the same stratosphere
and I don't quite know how
to let it go.

I miss you, and the words
twist around my fingers
like a rosary, pausing
at the accidental stutter
of my naked heart.

My last dance will be an inspiration
Hands to hands tightly intertwined
Music deeper than any revelation
And all done in my own time

My last meal will be very delicious
Sampling a bit of all of my favorite things
And being my last, need not be nutritious
Humming with flavor cause you know it makes me sing
My last slumber will be the deepest I’ve known
Dreams will no longer come at all
My essence thus departed receding from how I’ve grown
So there will be no me left to recall

My last conversation will never be my last
Though my bodies may fade
Becoming only an echoe in the past
My words will remain to be remade

Revisited over and over again
It may not be immortality
But it is as close as I can come my friend
Words etched in the collective unconscious
Until humanity ends

-- when I have the tenderness of a writhing dragon,
he will paint flowers across my throat

as though to remind me that fires are indelicate,
and that I writhe in a prison made of open space.
-- this man will not smother me with his skin
when we sleep.
-- this man will unhinge the door of my mouth,
and kiss out the bullets stuck under my tongue.
                                                                ­               ---
whatever thousandth day I awaken beside this man,
realizing I have become the flowers he painted
across my throat, by braving my throat,

I will, unchaining myself from the draconic worry,
bring him his coffee in bed, with a smile.