An ocean between you and me
Six weeks of common memories
Little things of you
So clearly I remember
Blurred feelings about me you say you keep
Though, so much together to be built
If we do not talk
It does not mean
That we don't miss each other.  
If, for whatever reason,
We keep a distance
It does not mean
We forget each other.
Too late.
Your mind is in my neighborhood,
For good.

An art of twisting and flexing reality into perplexing hypothesis

Today is repost day
it's official
I'm reading and posting at a furious pace
I will share your words until your name is all I see
the ones I loved, the ones you hate, the ones I missed.
Each one a blessing to my eyes and heart.
I do this, not for you but for me.
Me, your friend
sat in disbelief that your name will be no more
that you will no longer sing the words of your heart into my eager soul.
This campaign of hate that has brought about the end, I will **** it's author to hell.
I hope they read this and smile, it will not linger, trust me.
They may hide behind walls and throw stones at your heart, their yellow bellies jiggling with laughter while your tears stain your skin, your light dimmed by their spite.
There is such cruelty in this place of beauty and love.
So today will be filled with you, in the hope that you see that you are so much better than they say you are, in every way. You are loved. You belong here. They do not.

you gave me
a bullet and a gun
in the form of
a love letter

You painted
a sunset in the back of my
throat, so that every time
we kissed, you could taste
something beautiful that
wasn't me.

she says “i had an epiphany. looking backwards only brings you down, so looking forward must bring you up. it has to be true.”

for the first time, i had seen hope in her eyes.

she thought that night she found her answer, she finally cracked her code.

she figured that if fish stink from the head down then she was going to be a bird.

i picture where she is now and if her thoughts on life have changed after she devoured all of those dead fish. i wonder if she’s still eating them now.

he told me that he had an epiphany and took a fist full of pills but never told me what his epiphany really was.

it was one thing after another with him, he was wild.

not only was he a bird, but he was tiger and even though his stripes weren’t visible, i knew they were real.

i scrubbed that ******* clean more times than i can count.

nothing.

i finally realize now after years of trying to figure this creature out that his so called epiphany’s were only wasted ideas on how to get the hell out of this no-where town. ideas on how to get his stripes back.

they made me question whether or not epiphany’s were real

because i ran into her on the street one day and all i saw were scales.

and he was a tiger out for blood.

i was stupid enough for trying to tame him.

and it took me a long time to leave.

all bandaged up, i think i had an epiphany.

it’s like the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the morning.

it’s like that first cool october breeze of the year.

it’s the feeling that makes you “want this moment forever”.

show me the way towards the fountain of youth;

but leave me half-way

because i really need to be strong.

i need to find my own way.

i’ll fill all of these jars and bring some home to you.

drink it in your backyard.

drink it at our dinner for two.

it’s like the first skinny dip in 80 degree weather.

it’s that first time you see a waterfall.

show me the way down there but don’t say a word when i strip down, swim along top of rocks that will later bruise my feet, and stand tall underneath it.

let it pour down on me.

let it sting my skin.

because i really need to feel alive.

it’s like looking up at everything that’s rushing down and realizing how ******* beautiful life can be.

it’s that realization.

maybe.