A thousand bees 
Swarm o'er me
Pique flesh
With liquid fire
Flushing my body
In naked vermillion

When I go to bed
My body automatically
Makes room to fit yours.

When I hold my breath,
I almost feel your lips press mine
But they're only ghosts.

you've been sullied
when you smell the virginity of water.
feel it cleanse
yesterdays sorrows
drip carelessly down your neck
cooling your spine
and run away through the transparency of refreshing rains
down the drain
releasing you from yourself.

Can you hear me?
Can you see me?

Would you care if you could?
Or would you leave me,
alone?
Left with no answers,
reaching out to you,
only to be,
deserted.

Do you even look anymore?
Or do you just serinad me with words,
promises,
that just push the knife in deeper?

Maybe its all in my head,
for life doesn't come with rules,
or guidance.

Maybe still,
you have made a decision,
that is unbeknownst,
to me.

WORDS!

Why do you fail me?

WORDS!

Why can't you say just
      what
                                  I
                                                                               ...want...

The letters spun into a web,
words dancing,
clouded emotions found and solved.

Finding human connection through your struggle,
sing of the love I have,
and I hold so dear.
That I fear to be clear of what I hold here,
for I want nothing more,
than my Dear.

Chant for the friends,
who hold me down,
and build me wings.
Keeping me moving forward,
if only for a little longer,
with them.

Call for the family,
that I never feel I have found my place in,
never knowing,
is
   this
          how
                  you
                         love?

Never quite understanding,
is
   this
          how
                  you
                         write?

Finding that,
this
      is
          how
                  you
                        feel. And that's okey.

"I would **** for a pause button."
He says as we lay together reflecting on our lives.
"Just to be able to take some time off,
evory day just feels the same and I'm drowning in it,"

and as much as I related,
as much as I would be tempted to push that button if given the chance,
I don't.

For our lives are made in the mundane,
our lives really exist between the extraordinary.
When we look back on our days once lived we don't long for the days of excitement,
though we may look back on them fondly,
we dream of our old patterns.

The days we knew what laid ahead,
the days that weave together into a tapestry of life.

The days we sat in class with notes,
and friends.

We truly exist,
and find ourselves,
in the routines,
that we build.

So please appreciate your richuals,
love your moments of calm,
revel in your hours of knowing where you are and who you're with,
for now it may seem eternal,
but even life itself is fleeting.