It demands to be remembered.
It will stain your sight,
you can't see straight.
You'll build barriers and scream when you're blinded.
When it rests, you're attracted to the open atmosphere:
when slumber absorbs the sky.
It's everywhere.
It's contrasting abstractly, like puffy brush strokes.
Yet no one ever seems to notice the light when it's keeping you
alive.

keen eyes penetrate you
silver tongues in your sky
you’re the illusion that raised me
that laugh cannot lie
count your life in your giggles
I’ll measure the millions of sunsets
hunting hazel for miles
the horizon empty of our regrets
I become your blankets and sheets
you enter me through my skin
the longest wave right in front of me
my lips stuck to your chin
carnelian dreams ensue in orange
obsidian hopes flourish in black
I look through the jasper to your soul
please never turn back
It might not be love
I might be wrong for you
but you’re not just another passing miracle
and I will never let you fall through

You know I couldn’t have said it to your face
But I meant what I said in every dream I’ve ever had
The days spin and I’m lusting for more than my old hopes
I’m wasting this time asking for a blessing
when you’ve been my sanity for so long
I know I’ll never confess myself to you
So I’ll sit in my room and I’ll cry for you
With geometric eyes that have healed your deepest scars
That crushed me with passion for your pain
I close them when I want to be next to you
When will my pain hide her aged attention
and shed light on me
disappearing?

I feel fingers pressed into the abscess of my throat
the missing pieces from when
I didn't tell you that
I needed you
But tonight I'll sit alone
poking around my throat
discovering new ways to feel pain
My tongue cries,
the strongest muscle in the human body
cannot comprehend
that now, you are but a memory.
I wish I could scream
I wish you could see me dying
I wish you could see this blue
The blue echoing on my lips
The color of the secrets I keep
hidden in the hickeys you left me
to watch as they never seem to ******* fade
no makeup will hide
the fact that you
will never need me
like I needed you

He is the screaming wave of a tsunami
absorbed into pavement,
the salt water seeping into the cracks of my skin,
begging for praise
longing for love
not realizing it is causing harm
but once a second tidal wave is born
and takes control of the initial parade of chaos
that is when the water will subside
yet the landscape is left
destroyed
a place once filled with love
stripped of its natural image
and I have no remorse
for the pain of the waves.

Two Virgos meet; an occurrence far from promiscuous.
As the ******. Sensual, but modest.
Like silver beauty that would never lose purity, no matter how potentially pleasing she may be.
Quiet,
but touch the right spot, and you’d never hear silence again.
We love shattering the alignment of the planets. Misconfiguring.
It was the one thing that made us clean. It brought me joy. It brought him joy. Exploding together with salty sweat and saliva. Like white constellations bursting at the end of lifetimes, heated by love and light. Becoming one another in hasty motions, fast and slow. Soft and hard. Wet and loud. Slapping, punching, biting, *******, licking, kissing, done.
Losing purity with each stroke, until we reach clarity once again.
So is it irony, or am I just too *****?
The stars make patterns that tell me I am to be slight in my attempts to fornicate. I will be admired for my beauty. My resilience to resist. Resist him, resist her, resist what those will force upon you.
Trust in the skies. The stars expect me to fight this urge. Remain a ******. Stay pure. Do not destroy your youth.
But when two virgos meet, the urge is unbearable. The resistance is no more. Slight eye contact is the way to the soul, the way to become one, to ******, and return.
A brief escape, but we always return.
In the eyes of two virgos is endless pain. I see his when he comes. In his wide eyes, open and forgiving. Vulnerability is what he needs and I see what he cannot hide. We two virgos come together as one. We cannot deny.
These two virgins have vanished and will never be again.
We are two gorgeous arrangements of light reminded to be less.

Unknown pasts all collecting in one silent room.
Observers on the outside looking in.
He, a quiet and lonesome boy, only befriending his headphones, besides the loud, obnoxious, outspoken ball of manlike estrogen filling our heads with ignorance.
Bunches of hair can shade my ears from the questions of the clueless.
Unaware of any ounce of confusion lingering in my eyes, just hoping to pounce on a snarky remark of a neighboring mystery.
I never thought it would have ended like this.
My ability to be so comfortable in a room of strange acquaintances, but not so much strangers.
Unexpectedly, I am content with pondering the underneath of his exterior, the inner lining of his flesh that would consequently complete my quest for an answer to my absence of heart.
I'm not surprised that I still remain more curious in the overlooked hypnotic curls than the comb over.

I’m blinded by this face that was my best friend
I hadn’t appreciated you for those years of
high times and drunken dress up
You are more than what we talked about at night
when we were confused and alone
and even after those moments passed
I’d close my eyes to be with you.
Dream of you,
unaware that it was love
But now I’m more alone than ever
And she has your heart.

The summer nights and spring time blossom
strangled my head and lost my soul
But you were with me through the gushing red
Who knew I’d feel this green for a girl that I called
my best friend…

We were one, my secret partner
The one I’d drop my soul into,
vulnerable to your bare eyes
Now you’re miles away and
I still cry

Your mind is the reason my sheets drip with regret
And the stains in my head smell of roses
And your face is in the photograph above me

I know she’s beautiful and I know she’s yours,
And I have mine and you’ll forget about me,
But I’d still reveal to you what you’ve been missing
Even after our years together
You’d see that you haven’t been yourself
And I am that open door to the real love
The kind of love you told me
you wished was real,
the kind you searched people for
the kind you felt when we laughed together
the kind you thought you could only find
deep, unconscious, dreaming
in your sleep,
I’ll hold it sacred
until you return

The release of this relentless pain
will believe all sights of treason
as a positive force on one’s soul,
guilty promises lacking reason.
Restful thinking assures me that I will arise once again
perhaps my purpose is not to perform such gracious acts for men.
Yet if it is true, where is my end?
It’s nowhere to be found.
I’ve reached my death and now I’m wishing I hadn’t turned back around.
Entire blankets of black couldn’t shelter
light years of infinity,
and limitless love hovering above
could never cover mans self-pitying.

I feel
so alone in a room full of stars
a world apart from my own
it lies
naked in itself yet I am no longer
here. I want it's light to penetrate my life
and rinse my organs
skin to soul
but it won't filter past
my eyes.

My blue eyes will stain
your newly ironed dress shirt.
How will you forget?

Cleanse the shore,
simmer beneath my soles
cold sea foam kisses, seashells and horseshoes.
Set aflame the desert of our pasts.
Awaken me to new eyes and sore souls, from bruised
minds and crying smiles.
Even when moonlight arrives
the waves will remain
alive.

In your eyes I see myself and my nights alone when I
              stayed up till six and slept away the days
missing and longing for someone I had yet
to know
I've loved you            since I saw the sun rise
I saw you in the green of the earth
I felt you in the roots of my soul
I heard you in my dreams,
               the only thing I could ever need
                        was inside of you
And I searched through and through in
empty people
        and lonesome souls
for wholeness and love
when I knew all along
                you were right there with me

His spirit is serene
but his mind restless,
a psychotic paradise in his body.
This overlooked haze in the distance
is slowly becoming more foggy.
Days are passing, and he wonders
if the thunder will arise once more.
The bolts of light may awaken him
but will he ever hear the storm roar?
Smooth sailing led by this crazed captain,
his head wild in the sea.
The crashing ocean defeats the wind
and he's never felt more free.

I am dehydrated grass
singed at the tips
by the scorching sun.
I am the horizon where that sun rests,
the soft transition
of an early evening with a vast
Vermont-like sky.
I am an aged Polaroid photograph,
trapped in a dusty attic,
humble and wise.
I am sour milk, causing
alerted taste buds
and twisted tongues.
But I am also a honeysuckle.
The comfort
hidden in the dark
of the mysterious greenery.
A sip of nature's luscious candy.