Have you the slightest idea of what
It's like to have a person you love
dissolve into madness?

He dove in head first to a bottomless
pit of insanity.
& no matter how much we try.
We can't even send him a memory of
what the sun used to looks like.

Let's say you have a different outlook on life,
& the people you love most tell you it's not real.
That you're demented,
and everything you see as real isn't.

Then arises the question:
If perception is key, when does it become a reality?
What is real?

& if physics is correct,
this is all just a probability.
If so, then why does it hurt so much?

I don't trust myself enough to write any more.

poetic fractured retractions
   gnashing night prayers,
scribbling braille,
     written sideways
 dipped amid holy water's retention,
compromising statements
     of disbelief's proclamation
spinning music the color
     of nakedly sick ******, yet
burnished souls keep on ticking
   half past total trade-offs
   in a spoonful of smoky reflections
         sans sugar's acid trip,
anointed of rose red
        ****** false pretenses
dancing off center
       in disillusioned
   pirouettes of pseudo redemption,
whirling out of control on
         staged tapestry's loftiness
surrendered ballet slippers
        in blistered half promises,
as twisted metaphors sprightly
       tuned out spun anomalies
below birds on a rusty wire tweeting
     admissions of blue's cobalt execution,
rendered inky alterations' inquisitions
        'pon pedaled pink fluff profundity,
exhaling paroxysms of engaged poetry
    in vehemently enraged deliverance,
naught one is ever as they seem
  through pigmented film 'neath
    figment's imagined looking glass
           of ingratiated grand delusions

the dog she frolics like a lamb,
open mouth
smile ear to ear,
the dry grass pokes her pads,
her nose scents the air,

she chases me, there is joy,
in both our hearts,

grey blur glides by
my legs, without looking back,
her years have not slowed
her down, her ears pulled
back with her speed,

she chases me, fierce heart,
fire brand spirit sprinting,

she runs circles, does laps

she tucks her haunches under
and she silently thunders
by lightening fast,
pure joy despite her chaotic past,

oh in my dreams, she will live
forever, and despite what
some say spiritually,
the will in me says she will
wait for me on the far side
of the Rainbow Bridge

and we then run, her nose
leads the way, to play
and a day, to discover
freely
eternity.