Clear off the bed
and come lie next to me
or lie with me
or crawl under these sheets
and die with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clear out your mind
and sink down low with me
or get high with me
or hold my hand
and lose some time with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clean up your act
and fall apart with me
or fall, apart from me
or fall, a part of me
and take some time to cry with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clean out your car
and run away with me
or run to me
or put it in reverse
and go back to the start with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Cleanse your spirit
and embrace this pain with me
or brace for pain with me
or take a moment to put me back together
and just be with me, with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could still get used to this

I watch for you
And keep an eye on
The horizon
I cannot help but
See the sunrise
And it's orange edge light
Hugs my curves like
You would
Warms and burns like
You would
Smoldering then steadying like a match
Igniting memories of
Sleepy passenger seats
In an old black jeep that
Tasted of fish and old stories that
You told me
Of the late night in between in
A skinny dorm bed and the
Delirium of love and fatigue
Folding our eyes closed and our hands together beneath the pillows
And collecting on us like a heavy snow
The scent of old tobacco, skin, gatorade,
And dryer sheet that
Rests on you like
My sleepy hand
Rising and falling with your breathing
And then my florida dawn
After new world night and
A heart full to bursting
Watching big fish gather around lighted docks
And talking of things in
Beach towels on a bridge
Leaning
Looking over
The edge
I watch for you
With my eye on the horizon
And I know you in the
Break of day
I carry your gold dawn and it
Tempers the steel beneath
I watch for you
My love
Until you're home

It's 7:14 am
And I love you

we are carbon,
ashes,
craters,
two towers,
after.

rubble,
mist and manholes.
your eyes on a
cloudy day.
the aftermath of destruction.

we are leftover scratches
on gas chamber walls,
corpses,
cremations, and gravestones.

vision without glasses,
abandoned buildings,
the residual newspaper ink on
your palms.

we are static, crumbling nihilism,
aged hair, and dust sifting through
frost bitten fingers.

cavities, apathies,
blank television screens,
sketches, ghosts, absence,
dust, collapse,
driftwood.

we are driftwood, not enough
for a life-raft,
sometimes, where there is smoke,
there is no fire.

i guess it’s where we were always heading,
dulling, deconstructing, disintegrating.
after all, every thing
reduces to this.

I was made for abandonment.
Like a sea turtle left in the sand to hatch on her own and bravely voyage into the ocean,
Escaping her idle life in a pure, white shell for a treacherous journey into a polluted, dark ocean.
She will encounter beasts who will attempt to postpone her self-actualization.
She's alone, but brave.
She knows what she must do
With the sound of the ocean and the light of the moon as her only guides.
She pauses at the shoreline,
The tide comes in,
Sweeps her off her feet and welcomes her in a beautiful embrace.
However...
I am still struggling with the beasts who promised me an easier life
Away from the mysterious ocean;
Idle in their arms.
They led me astray before I realized that while the ocean tides change, they follow the beautiful, definite pattern of the moon.

I feel the caress of my own fingers
on my own neck as I place my collar
and think pityingly
of the kind women I have known.

It's never quite right, he said, the way people look,
the way the music sounds, the way the words are
written.
It's never quite right, he said, all the things we are
taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we
die, all the lives we live,
they are never quite right,
they are hardly close to right,
these lives we live
one after the other,
piled there as history,
the waste of the species,
the crushing of the light and the way,
it's not quite right,
it's hardly right at all
he said.

don't I know it? I
answered.

I walked away from the mirror.
it was morning, it was afternoon, it was
night

nothing changed
it was locked in place.
something flashed, something broke, something
remained.

I walked down the stairway and
into it.

Delightful visions of this bright morning,
Pray awaken to joys arrival;
Put to bed your nightmares of death and darkness
And allow these words to repair your cracked heart.

Ah! What is a nightmare before the dawns brilliance?
But an illusion cast before your eyes,
Only to be shattered by the suns clear rays,
Dispelled, before this immaculate future.

Such fleeting horrors, let them fade,
Do not let the chiding of scoundrels impair you,
Let the lovely beams fill you with cheer,
Together in spirit, we shall journey towards heaven.

Though storms may sour the azure sky,
If you and I walk together, the clouds will obey our command,
The black and menacing, shall be fluff, and white beneath our touch.
And If we wish to dance in the rain, it shall be so.

Together, we shall seize the day, with both hands,
And never let it go, even as night arrives, we shall dwell in brilliance.