I went down stairs this morning,
Looking for something to do.
Stared at a picture of you,
Why do I feel so blue?

I’m sitting in an ordinary coffee shop,
Listening to ordinary people talk **** on their ordinary lives.
How many ordinary men do I have to listen to ***** about their fat wives and their loser kid’s
Before I combust into a million pieces of myself,
I wish I could scream that what you have become is not what you have to stay.
You can still feel hope inside of your heart and spark inside of your soul,
Ignite your flame, feed and grow it.
Nourish the being inside of you telling you to rebel.
Give in to the devil on your shoulder and figure out how to begin again,
Because existence is much more beautiful when it is accompanied by a side of life.

If I am cold, it is not by choice
If I am cold it's because of the monsters that burn through my head like forest fires
If I am cold it's because the hot blood that once flowed so freely has been ****** out by the public
If I am cold it's because my heart has harden from the ice that surrounds me
If I am cold it is not because I am mean
It is because society has ripped the cord connecting all feeling to my once beating heart

i have walked years in this body,
across mountains and up hills
but i have never stayed long enough
to enjoy my journey

i don’t fear the unexpected,
i fear the unconquered
for one day my time will run out,
and it will have conquered
me

i learned something when my head exploded that day,
things come and go,
things will never stay.
even though I've prayed to God im not even sure is there and I've squeezed the hands of strangers,
but this I cannot bear.
"only time will heal"
will it heal the cold hand I clasped that day?
will it heal the wound in my heart because it's starting to decay.
will time give me back the moments and laughs with you?
time never heals,
time just teaches you how to soothe.

Please stop calling me nice.
I am not nice.
I will not be contained to a single word,
When my bones are built from metaphors
And my lips leak similes.
I am a fireball of emotion, splitting trees and men in two with my passion for my art.
I am a slurry of terror, creeping up on you at night that curls your toes right before you fall asleep.
I am not nice, I am anything but
I am alive with the summer heat that burns in my eyes and the sunlight that flows through my ribcage.
I am a warrior, a fighter, a solider in disguise.
I am the moon that hides it face in the day, only to showcase it's purity in the night.
I am the stiff wind that knocks the shallow air out of your lungs on a cold, January morning.
I am the tick, tick, tick of the buzzer right before its majestic song.
I am the obscene, the extraordinary, the menacing things in life.
I am not confined by a single word.
I
am
not
nice.

Though I am bore from the tree trunks of this Earth,
I am not steadiness you had hoped.
There is wind in my spirit,
Breaking branches, limb by limb.
And when facing flame,
I, too, will burn at the hand others have placed.

Describing how I feel about you is like describing the sun.
Warm, powerful, full of light.
It's true, you are all those things but you are also so much more.
You are more than the warmth I feel against my chilled skin after your every touch,
You are more than the light that radiates out of your glimmering soul.
You are emotion, the tireless feeling of inexplicable admiration
And how your love permeates itself in my body.
It feeds me with your passion, so my taste for it has grown.
Your endless yearnings for me make me never go to bed hungry.
But I thirst for you and skin and your heartbeat to the rhythm of my own.
You are entirely fascinating, captivating me in every breath you breathe.
How I wish others could see how much more you are.

if i knew the world would hate me today,
i would of stayed in bed.
if i knew words wouldn't come easy today,
i would of blew off that test,
if i knew i wouldn't have you,
i'd of died way back when

I wish I could say that telling you how I feel
Was as easy as saying,
"It's like falling off the Grand Canyon"
But it's so much deeper than that
It's like exploding into the stars
With a body on fire, alive from you
It's the rain at 2 am that wakes you from your
Sleep. But all you can do is smile
It's the neurons in your brain that sputter endlessly,
With the most captivating thoughts.
You are an infinity of stars and planets
That swirl with fragile hands.
You are a book etched with love and emotion
You are the music that rocks me to oblivion
Ceaselessly yearning for something more.
You are the 6am sunrise that bathes my skin
And blinds my eyes.
It's the mesmerizing passion for the little things,
The loose tea cups and finger-drums
Dedication for the craft you have perfected,
But not quite.
It's everything good and bad
It's you.

You are a vacation,
But you will never be home

"what could of been"
-setting fires with our love
-causing earthquakes with our passion
-had songs written about our gaze
-storms from our power struggle
-you + me

"what is"
-crying tears of acid
-constant ache deep in the center of my heart
-tormenting my brain, going insane
-you - me

There is a religion hiding behind every lustrous kiss
and in the electricity that sparks from your fingertips.
I am coming to believe that every proverb and hymn is inspired by the way you speak passionately about the music that moves you,
Like the way they describe Moses as moving the seas.
I am so astonished by the godly nature that your head holds when you tell me the things I wished I knew about myself.
There is an existential divide between the bliss I knew and the bliss I have found inside your soul that warms me to my core,
There is religion inside the foundations of your rhythm,
Detailed among the gaps in your words and holy prose.
While in your arms I fear not of the damnation waiting for me or the eternal death swooping me down ward,
In your arms all I fear is having to let you go.

He was youth-
Undeniably naive in the way he looked at me,
Like I could build skyscrapers with trailer park hands.
His smile was sweet,
Like frosted cupcakes and sugary lips that only spoke sticky words.

He was youth-
In the way he laughed, tossing his head back with ignorant bliss.
In his eyes that lit up with the sight of stars,
And him imagining me as one of those beautiful, perfect stars.
Ignorant in the way he loved so carelessly and so freely.

He was the youthful gust of air that blew straight into me.
So childlike in the way he told me sweet nothings like they were law,
And I was a citizen inside of his arms.
He was the youth I needed at a time when I was too old to fight it.
The youthful facade that only lasted while feeling it.

Time travel with me, across time and space
Let's find the meaning between you and I-
Nestled in the eternal continuum between here and now,
There is no future, there is no past
We are the children of the present
Crowned royalty in the never ending day.
You and I-
Time traveling, through our minds.

writing about you,
you are the sunshine
you are the the freckles that dot my face
you are the smell of the dew in the early morning
you are the light that led the way
you are gone
and that i cannot accept.

"Welcome!" I shout,
To the footsteps pressing into my temples that ache with constant pain.
"Will you stay awhile?" I ask
The nomadic traveler of the night who can only be bothered with a kiss or a ****,
"Can I get you anything?" I courtesy,
Feeding him grapes of Gods and wine, thick like blood. Only the best for the one who comes calling.
"Make yourself comfortable" I gasp
As he arches himself inside of my body
With no intention of staying,
But yet,
No intention of leaving.

How soon do the words escape your mouth that you realize-
It's far too late to share words that were communicated in a nod three weeks ago,
Or in a passing by kiss last year.
Now they are a hollow shell of everything you wanted to say but somehow feared.
Instead, they were written on your face of faces and spelled out the truth inside of you.
Your words are just words if they are empty and hollow,
Like bones on a corpse-
Unidentifiable.
And when I finally listened to you speak,
I knew we’d never be.
You lack the necessary element that creates me-
Meaning.

van gogh ate his yellow paint
because he even he wanted to coat his organs,
himself, in sunshine,
instead of feeling the darkness

he looked at me like he had never seen me before,
he looked at me like I was the first bloom of the season,
like I was the Holy Ghost every religious ******* is waiting for
like I was the creator and you were the protector and our touch was everything unseen
he looked at me through eyes unhardened
he looked at me selflessly and gracefully
he was the beginning and I was the end
and together we flowed,
endlessly

17 years of looking for the sun,
and my god how it has let me down

you are my cup of tea
in a world full of coffee stains

You are the only light left at the end of the tunnel
But when I arrive,
You are gone.
Your existence- obliterated
Me- waiting.