I have made so many poems
... of joyful, youthful glow
and carved them in my memory
... a capsule of years ago.

I have dealt with so many dreams
... I've dealt with so many fire
to purify this anguished life
... consuming my wildest desire.

Perhaps one day I'll make a dream
perhaps... with you this time around
Perhaps I'll stop making poems
for YOUR poetry will now abound

I hope someday, you'll find it too
that peace your turmoil's been searching
for in the space of our lavished arms
Is where you, Kristine, will be staying.

Being good

Is not enough.

I've prayed for you
a million times
before I laid
my eyes unto yours

I've dreamt of this
for a thousand summers
before your sunshine
shone deep unto my abyss

I need a poisonous tip
one that is as sharp
as the tongues of these mockers
shouting in my ears.

I need a hallow soul
with an emptiness...
as vast as the crevasse
found in my heart.

I need a knife,
a blunt knife,
to slowly feel its edges
cut open my skin

until it causes
my heart
until it causes
my soul

to cease to exist.

For what is life but a series of unfathomable events...
leading us astray?

I took my heart and brought it to her, she said she'll take care of it and welcomed my shattered pieces. She brought me joy every day. We walked the highways and the byways, holding each other in agreement that we will continue to trod this life together...

Then I looked at my side and she was no longer there...
I looked around and she was nowhere to be found...

I held her too tight,
Clinged too much,
And devoted too seriously...

Now,
My heart wanders
My soul searches,
My ears intently listens...

But she is gone.

Like my breath that she took with her,
Like my heartbeat that she dragged along with her,
Like my hopes that she both gave and shattered.

This is the deepest pain I've felt because for once in a very long time, I thought otherwise.

I understand all of these,
Her reasons,
Her past,
Her pain,
Her own troubled journey,
And the weight I had added to it...

I understand, but I can't accept.

I cannot accept the fact that when things go hard, people let go.

People let go.
Let go...

I'm not a nice guy because I have to be. I am a nice guy by choice.

Make no mistake
I have seen the darkness in my mind
I have searched for the monster within
I have allowed our souls to entwine
instead of trying to fight and win.

Make no mistake.
That my kindness is but a choice
My goodness is but an objection
My gentleness, my calm voice
are selected impulses, not a reaction.