two figures intertwined on a twin sized bed.
he rests in a blanket of tranquility
breathing deeply to the pace of a metronome.
his mind, at ease,
oblivious to the entropy beside him.
she lies on a sheet of apprehension
suffocating the gasps accompanying each tear.
her mind, distressed,
resenting the unconsciousness beside her.

i'm walking boldly out into rush hour traffic
without looking in both directions.
the moon shines brightly tonight,
far away from any cloud attempting to hide it.
the continuous phases of this lunar being
have returned me to the same shelter.
this new moon is guiding me
in the direction of an old friend.
nine years of preparation is buried in the dirt.
the cement is cracked beneath me,
and i try not to falter.
my pace is steadily increasing
with the passing of each sidewalk panel.
the shadows of creepy figures await my arrival.
too many preconceived notions and indecisive patterns
bring me to a halt outside the front porch.
will i be welcomed or frightened away?

i'm the caring one.
the selfless one.
the do something for everyone else
but nothing for myself one.
i give and give til it's all gone.
i try to build you up
but end up breaking myself down.
i fall too hard
and care too much.
so much,
that i have nothing
left of myself.

the other day, i took a walk.
and on that walk,
i came across
a couple mockingbirds who seemed
determined to laugh at me.
you see,
on that walk,
the trail was lined
with memories
of you and i
that i so desperately tried
to leave behind.
and no matter how far i would go,
the ever-so
intoxicating
aroma of nostalgia
was suffocating
me.
and those memories of you and i
that i so desperately tried
to leave behind,
kept guiding me.
you see,
those memories
took me on a different road.
one that led me to forgo
the path that was laid out for me.
and even though,
i chose a different path
to end this walk,
i glanced back
because that trail was the only road
that led me to this new path.
that trail that was lined
with memories of you and i
that i so desperately tried
to leave behind.

Disillusionment encompasses the night.
Your warm breath tickles my ear,
Firm hands caress my skin
leaving no part of my body untouched.
All other distractions, extraneous characters,
everything else is irrelevant.
It is just you, with your smooth dark skin,
comforting embrace,
and those entrancing brown eyes,
and me, with my silky pale skin,
soft curves,
and sad but hopeful eyes.
It is just us and our apprehension in this room,
isolated from reality.
You indulge in my coquettish laugh,
and I take solace in the warmth of your touch.
The contours of my body complement yours
as we both try to savor this feeling of ecstasy.
But the hourglass runs out,
and this moment is fleeting.
The illusion is shattered
when the protagonist reappears,
and I am demoted to understudy.
I am left to replay this scene
in my disillusioned mind
hoping to one day again feel
the softness of your lips
pressed against my bare skin,
but until then, I will replay these events,
ignoring this void in my soul
and embracing the momentary nirvana.

illuminated streetlights guide us down the trail of truth.
memories trapped within the corners are now ablaze.
secrets hidden in the mist are swallowed.
russia. mexico. puerto rico.
99 cards for this game of yahtzee.
beginner's luck excuses the match.
blank pages, missing drafts reflect the travels all lost.
semi or strong?
pickle. tomato. lime.
stir it up and tip it over.
orange blossoms and juniper leaves
line the edges of the trail
igniting passion and intensity.
faces lost, and experiences crossed.
it's hank moody's turn to rise.

what started as a touch,
became a stranglehold.
a distorted reality on the opposing side
of a clouded shield.
stripped of inhibitions,
and covered in loneliness.
a gentle graze, an eager smile,
and two glasses of deception
were the ingredients to a recipe
for sweet catastrophe.
as smooth as sandpaper,
contact would inevitably wear down
the other surface
to be as fine as sands of an hourglass
draining until the glass is empty.

she was sophisticated and cultured, but you,
you made her naive.
in the same fashion,
you stripped her of her innocence,
and she became a mouse lost in a maze.

this aroma is intoxicating
making her thoughts clouded.
she knew it was wrong.
she knew it wouldn't work.
she knew it would leave her empty.
but yet she let the walls of the sand castle
crumble from these crashing waves.

your glass of deception is half-full,
but a haze of hesitation and obscurity is released
as the glass shatters to the floor.
it is leaving you dry.
it is leaving her faded.
you are the kid with the magnifying glass,
and she is neglected like your childhood teddy bear.

but she will accept these roles in the play,
fully aware that this is the director's finest.
and she will exit stage left
while you grace the center
and receive a standing ovation.