The battle between
darkness and depression
is onslaught for any troubled soul
for it takes place much deeper
than any dug out hole
This darkness seems to just find me
Takes over my world into my sanctuary
It settles around the iris of my eyes
Turning me into someone who just seems to cry
Rooted in negativity and lost in my pain
Through my eyes it enters my brain
Corrupting my each and every thought
Breeding unwelcome memories that like to haunt
Spreading now like poison through my veins
Trying to take over till nothing remains
Writing words is my only defense
When nothing else I do makes any sense
The power of prose keeps that place deep within me
Safe and free from this darkened toxicity…

So many of these words have been about you...
I've written them during my darkest hours,
in the middle of the night after too many drinks,
that were accompanied by too many cigarettes,
after I had tossed and turned for what seemed like forever,
with you stuck in my head; those lingering aftershocks.
After listening to so many sad songs with the volume too loud,
I opened this computer and put down how you made me feel,
typed out the words that I never got to say to you,
poured out all the sorrow, and regret, and mistrust;
the jarring color of it, all viole(n)t red.
Let it soak through the keys and bloom into this portrait of you:
A picture of who you really were...a snapshot...a Polaroid.
And now that its finally tangible,
I can see all your sharp edges and black shadows
and how much I wanted to smooth you out and cast a light.
I can feel everything I wanted you to be
and how much it hurt when you disappointed me.

I hold your picture in my hands that I created with my words
and think about the all those depths you brought me to...
All those nights I spent wishing things were different.
All those hours I spent wishing you still loved me.
All those minutes I spent wishing I didn't cry over you.
All those seconds I spent wishing I never met you.
And I think I finally have the strength to rip you apart.
And forget you....for good.

The game you play is so **** sweet
Telling me you miss when you see me
The way you get on top and kiss me
Oh my god the way you lick and bite
The way you moan when I grab your thighs
Flip you over and kiss your lips
The lips between your hips
Flip and roll my tongue across your body
Lick your perfect ******* and kiss your neck
Work my way to nibble on your earlobe
Whisper that “I need you”
This is heaven, surrounded by the flames of hell
Only we know that it’s the sweetest place to be
This night is young
Gonna take my time and do it right
Rediscover your entire body
Burning into memory every moment of tonight
I can do it slow or I can do it fast
Close your eyes and let your body speak
Tell me if you want it soft or do you want it hard
Here, right here my dear
I’m gonna make you fall in love
Just remember that it’s our last time.

Yellow, flaxen hair lays like a tumbleweed on your upper back

And your shoulder blades pucker the skin between them,

Highlighting that birthmark you've always hated.

The cotton blend sheets cover you so strategically,

Leaving just the half-moon of your breast exposed.

You must be cold because goosebumps line your arms

Creating a passage in Braille I'll never be able to decipher.

The milky-white skin of your back rises and falls with your breath

And as you exhale, one singular strand of hair blows in the wind.

 

But even with your head turned the other way,

I can picture the freckles fall across the bridge of your nose

And see the furrow in your brow with each passing dream

I want to reach out and lay my hand on any part that is you

Feel your warm skin against my calloused hands

But to touch you would wake you

So I let you sleep

i hope by the time you read this
you have realized something about yourself.

anything at all.

that you're beautiful
that you're smart
that you're worth it
that you're art.

but i can't tell you these things
since they are things you must find within yourself;
i know
you will not believe me.

to those who have not found:
search a little closer
get a better mirror
magnify the music of your soul ten times the max volume
it can reach.

i guarantee you,
there's something there.
and even if everything else seems like it's in despair

remember you had it in you to get here.

so there must be something.
anything at all.

for how can you ever hope to love someone else,
if you can not find the love within yourself?

The sea is still today
It's cerulean blue and gold
I think of the thoughts it carries
Within its hidden folds.
Its touch is soft and gentle
It soothes the ache of years
But I wonder how many waves
Are made from fallen tears.

For a few months,
you’ll think you’re making progress;
don’t fool yourself,
You haven’t even started.
Everything will smell like him.
Your pillow,
your clothes,
even the air.
You'll even still have their cards and photos
lined upon your bedside table.
You'll get drunk,
and you'll send them poems you wrote,
and songs that remind you of them.  
They'll tell you you’re a good writer,
and this will be the last real thing
they ever say to you.
You'll find you won't be able to write
if it's not about them,
they still plague your mind,
your thoughts,
and your dreams.
The first poem you write that’s not about them
will feel like victory at last.
It won’t be.
They'll always find a way
to slither back into your words.
Your friends will keep listening to you weep,
as they weep over the one that got away too.
They come and go in the middle of your favorite songs,
between each beat you see their smile,
and their beauty in every piece of art;
their beauty in every stroke.
Whenever someone asks you what your favorite color is,
you just want to say 'their eyes'.
They light up like a lake in twilight,
like the moon you shared your first kiss below.
You'll want to go back there for closure.
You still haven’t done it yet.
You aren’t ready to let go.
If you do go you know it'll only make it worse.
And for the rest of your life,
you will be hoping to meet someone
as magical as them.
Every soul that catches your eye,
you won’t really be looking at them.
You’ll be searching for them.
You’ll never find them again.