Your words run in my veins,
I never saw the sky,
Until I saw it through your eyes.
I never saw you,
Until I read you first.
Your words took shape,
They climbed from the page
And crept into my heart.
Don't let it be just the pen you hold tonight.
Don't let the paper be all you lean on.
Don't let those words be all you say.
For I can't breathe for looking at you,
I can't think for the sight of you.
And I swear til this day I never understood
This language we share
But now the air is full of words,
Written on the body of you.

And the question is, “What constitutes the good life?” And the neurons in my brain automatically begin to connect and arrange themselves into a conveyor belt of possible responses. This is not about fancy cars and giant mansions. This is about searching high and low for the unique existence of character buried in the depths of your heart. The labyrinth of suffering is something that traps and consumes every single one of us. Being aware and accepting the circumstances that will occur after exploring all the different solutions of discovering a way to escape is a major fundamental element needed to survive. Ostracizing yourself from the countless number of distractions in today’s generation to truly identify your individuality is the most crucial procedure in recognizing an outbreak from conforming to false associations. Infinite minutes are wasted every day because there are numerous amounts of interruptions that interfere with our life’s mission. Eliminating these disturbances will erase people’s impulses to shake hands with laziness. More people need to realize that utilizing time and wisely spending the precious moments we have left should be more carefully valued before it is too late. At times like this, it is perfectly acceptable to be self absorbed on account that working towards a goal is in effect. Take the time to focus on figuring out how to learn and how to proceed in expanding the mind’s personality. It is so important to acquire the ability to control the aspect of reason. But once enough experience is achieved to gather the information on how to conquer the labyrinth of suffering, you will then inaugurate the good life.
There is only one way to assemble the knowledge as to where the door lies and that is by simply living life and never giving up. Take chances and live on curiosity. We learn by putting ourselves in situations that are out of our comfort zones, giving the opportunity to mess up. Overcoming the situation is when we gain the confidence to promote ourselves to the next level. Life is full of mistakes but it is about being intelligent about those obstacles. Building up from those faults and taking advantage of everything life offers. We will move on from every mistake only to come face to face with another one. But life carries us. It challenges us. And the brave souls that accept that challenge are the ones that go on living the good life.

things that rhyme with you --
***, coma, three meters of ribbon that are your veins
the emerald sea
any other gemstone-like thing, girls
boys, angels with wings,
pasta noodles with big gaping holes, curls, frizz
buckets of saltwater,
honey, fingertips, promises in two different languages

i:
i find space between us
even when you are inside of me

ii:
it would take me
two hours to fall to the bottom of the ocean
and two days to get to you

iii:
floorboards creak
i sing

you get so close
my ***** breaks like a guitar string

I will not refrain from making this personal
You have dwelled in me long enough
To force my hand
This hand, that now, won’t stop shaking
Because of you
Scribbling ink upon paper-
Smudged with sweat from my brow

Inside
The fires of your hell,
Outside
The tundra of your stare,
Rattle my brain
And from me you drain
My strength and my patience
I retain only adamancy
To rival your vexation

You, who have crippled me so
I pray you know, how much I loathe
Your pestilent touch
But I beg you still,
To keep my hands,
To keep my head,
To leave me this much.

paradoxes under tables
walled open doors
back alleys, woodwork streets
all busy, all morose
rat podium picture maze
my arms are gelatin
affixed in spares
left to be eaten
windows with glare
the arches of Rome
panels of glass
the musical sheets
orchestration aligned
trumpets on my right
tubas on my left
the open door
let the rats in

1.1 - I am unread    
        
1.2 - those letters of condolence lying on the bed    
        
1.3 - that ephemeral note initialed in red    
        
1.4 - that formal invitation for the newly wed.    
        
2.1 - A disturbed heart to caress    
        
2.2 - with words unfit to address    
        
2.3 - A tragic dusk beckons unless    
        
2.4 - here distress succeeds success.    
        
3.1 - Patience lost and passed around    
        
3.2 - anxious fell the tragedy crown    
        
3.3 - the coldest breeze brought it down    
        
3.4 - A stranger to all upon its ground.    
        
4.1 - A swindled tongue that once had said    
        
4.2 - all that bleeds will soon be dead    
        
4.3 - like the fading memory you choose to dread    
        
4.4 - A feigning heart yet to be read.    
        
5.1 - Those words of goodbye by despair led    
        
5.2 - with an ugly truth left to confess    
        
5.3 - that missive of hope which never turned to sound    
        
5.4 - still unread.