sunrise, a time to sleep
bag over shoulder, cart following feet
the light of day is a safety net
for this stumbling, lost man to be
in such a vulnerable position
as that when dreams flow free
nights spent packed up, for warmth shuffling  around
searching for a hope or a drink,
his last in a puddle on the ground
for peace, in a hectic, screaming hallow
for the world to just open up and swallow
to feel the smoldering center of the earth,
warm his bones
to feel a part of something, for
the first time since he left home, all those years ago
he imagines the heat burning his pain
like each bubbling blister popping
is years of abuse escaping through his skin
scars forming outward and inside,
an extra layer of protection,
between now, and
the sunrise.

I remember saying to you, "I want you SOOO bad!"
I want all your parts, the light and dark, I want you even after so long
even though you're gone I want you
like a kid wants to see Santa on Christmas eve, hoping for a glimpse of the elusive man, not even questioning his validity
I want you like hot fudge on ice cream, the perfect compliment to my frigid self loathing, hot and sweet covering every inch, making me melt, I want you like the bros at the gym want gains
out of this world gains, hard work pays off gains
the protein to your muscle, stronger than the weight on your shoulders, I want you the way a tree buds and grows its leaves into the most lush escape, only to send them off with the most colourful goodbye awaiting their return in the spring, I want you like my dog wants food
and let me tell you one singular thought fixates his mind, and that is eating
I want you like an soft song played on the strings of a perfect evening, while we slow dance in the dark
I want you like an ice cold beer on a hot summer day! the spritz of the cap, bubbling with anticipation, the sweat forming on the bottle dripping down your finger as you touch it to your lips and then,
ahhh pure refreshment, quenching my Sahara thirst
I want you like how green grass, and shrubs and flowers and trees all grow towards the sun, innately seeking the heat source of life, the very sustenance that keeps them alive, I want you
like the air
all around me, I wanna feel you permeate every cell in my body, wanna feel you expand my lungs, and pump my heart, fire neurons in my brain sending electric signals to every muscle tingling my nerves
I want you like the first snowfall
magical and nostalgic, cozy and beautiful
I want you the way I wanna write poetry that saves lives, the way I want the words to build themselves with every pen stroke and speak to you, I want you the way no one has ever wanted me
worth the effort, if you would just try to see I could build a universe around us, so we would have our own stars that shine for our eyes only, and we would never miss a chance to watch the beauty of our stars crossing the sky,
I want you with feelings, and that uncomfortable "communicating" thing that I do so well for a living but struggle to do with you, I want you raw and exposed
our souls bared, a connection even fully clothed, I want you so bad
was all that I could muster under that gin soaked cloak of bravery
I should have said, that all I really wanted
was for you to want me too

Drunk on love,
&& some cheap boxed wine.
I do this all the time;
Why do I do this all the time?

There are 37.2 trillion cells
in the human body
Yet somehow,
you're coursing through
every last one of them.

I push people away constantly,
For fear of ever
Falling in love with them.

The heart always wants
What it cannot have,
A far away lover
From a far away land.

All I'm left with are these words,
Which shall forever
remain unspoken.

I'll just carry on in denial,
Pretending I'm not
Heartbroken.

If my outer layers are perfectly
placed together,
Can anyone tell that
my insides are shattered?

Bruised && battered;
Does it really matter?
Does any of it matter,

To you?

Does it make you wonder,

Just what's the ******* point?

This one goes to the real poets.
To those who decide to carry the world on their own.
To those who carry hell in their head and a graveyard of lost love stories in their heart
To the brave ones who fight darkness with darkness.
Tho those who the only answer they seek from a god is if there's eternal life for their loved ones, because they know there's no space for them in that paradise.
To those who know that suffering is the most humane feeling there is.
To those who loved and hated the wrong person.
This goes to Lorca isolated, hiding in a closet in New York.
To Unamuno craving to believe in something impossible.
To Quiroga drinking the poison of his sorrow at a hospital.
To Becquer and Espino for dying so young.
To Neruda for cheating on himself so many times.
To Machados' lost spirit.
To Marquez and his melancholic ******.
To Poe's tormented soul and his raven.
To Shakespeare and his Juliet.
To Dante and his story of woe.
This goes for the only beings who can live with a hell inside of them, and still manage to write heavenly things for those in need to read.
This one's for us.

All those breadcrumb pieces of my heart I'd hoped you would use to follow your way back, lay rotting along side the stagnant words you left behind with me
I doubt you would find your way home, even if you wanted to but,
I have no more of myself to send with you when you leave again