"boldly resisting authority or an opposing force"


but
you call me defiant
like it's a bad thing

you are more than
those memories
than the bruises on your heart

more than folded corners
marking passages
that feel like home

more than what you lack
and
more than what you have

you are
more than enough

I shine out loud
At midst of all the crowd
You can see me from your balcony
Everyone saw me as precious metal
You could see the fools gold
Making sure I was aware
That I am
Fools Gold

desperately
attempt an escape
from cliché
and doing so
live another

midnight musings
jotted down in
cluttered notebooks

they never seem as grand
as they did
with heavy eyelids

her hands told me stories
as they nervously drifted
towards my own

they spoke of goodbyes
of second guesses
of loss

but most of all
they spoke of
                          *hope

kiss my spine
so intimate
your flaming breath
seeps through me
as if the years have made me porous

trace the silhouette
of my calloused fingers
and linger
on the ridges of my wrist
you shiver
I resist
the temptation of escape

rest your head against my own
so heavy with memories
the sinking weight
of stories never told

I taste your breath
I taste your empathy
I taste the words
you never said

I see your face
I crave your company
why am I so full of wanting?
enamored with your smile
your roaming fingers
entranced by what is
behind your eyes
I'll grow close to you
take your love
and **** it dry
I
am
a monster.
never satisfied.

These are the nights I wish to remember
The ones spent with family late at night
When I'm old and wrinkled
Grey infesting my hair
Let's paint the walls with laughter
Watch the colors fight the grey
These are the memories
Please, I beg you
Please, please stay

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Search. Search. Seek. Seek.
Cold. Cold. Clear. Clear.
Sorrow. Sorrow. Pain. Pain.
Hot flashes. Sudden chills.
Stabbing pains. Slow agonies.
I can find no peace.
I drink two cups, then three bowls,
Of clear wine until I can’t
Stand up against a gust of wind.
Wild geese fly over head.
They wrench my heart.
They were our friends in the old days.
Gold chrysanthemums litter
The ground, pile up, faded, dead.
This season I could not bear
To pick them. All alone,
Motionless at my window,
I watch the gathering shadows.
Fine rain sifts through the wu-t’ung trees,
And drips, drop by drop, through the dusk.
What can I ever do now?
How can I drive off this word —
Hopelessness?