Down stormy road..
Let me begin to imagine the sunny day with you..
Its strange..
I can't seem picture the sunny day in such a storm..
Its as if I have forgotten what it was like..
But I do see us walking in the rain..
Its cold at first but we soon get use to it..
The rain stops and the lightning dances across the sky from cloud to cloud..
I remember us leaving and never arriving..
Without destination..
The leaving storms in the distance leave such a blue for my eyes..
I call it Storm on the horizon blue..
That is where I see us..
Running with the lightning in the sky..

Open the eyes of my heart
for I want to see You.
I hear Your call at night
in the existence of the moonlight
You said, “I’ve laid foundations in the ocean depths, sail your soul on the deep waters beneath the earth.”
I recalled as a formidable king
to vibrate my heart in meditation,
to elevate in the light energy’s radiation,
to thrive, to rise, to survive,
to inhale and exhale your reviving spirit.

Devoured by false hope
Strangled by loves rope
High with your memories dope.

I don't know how can i cope
If my sanity and my only hope
Is the strop that is used to slit my throat.

Nostalgic but tragic
A magic that got me with the sleight of hand
A trick that played and broke my heart.

last Easter I wrote a poem for you
with rhyming words and beautifully constructed stanzas
about the way your hair looks and the way I wanted you and the way things were changing but -
April came back around all too fast this year and I don't write poems like I used to.
this isn't poetry.
this is October nights with glazed eyes,  burning throats and so much trauma, so much trauma, so much ******* trau-
this is November afternoons smoking my lungs black and tears that i drowned in for every day of that month.
this is December mornings when I spent all my money on Christmas decorations because I thought it would be my last.
this is New Years Eve, clutching her back and sobbing into her shoulders because I couldn't believe I made it - how the hell did I make it?  this is me thanking her, and her, and her too for stitching me back together. this is champagne and the grace of God.
this is February when you came back to me  and as much as i wanted to throw dirt back in your face, I held onto it in hopes of planting something new.
this is March when it wouldn't stop snowing.
this isn't poetry.
this is April,
this is me taking the dirt and burying the idea of us six feet under.
this isn't poetry,
this is Spring and this is the last time you will be mentioned with it.

i told myself a million times
that if you ever tried to talk to me again,
i would be strong enough not to reply.
but when your number came up on my phone
the walls that i had been trying to hard to build up
crumbled down
and hit the floor with a defeating thud.
instead of feeling strong
i felt happy
relieved
wanted
even though you were just drunk
and i shouldn't have.

When I'm alone in my room
Please be someone I could hold
You look like you want to
I don't know if you want to

We don't need the room
We could hit the road
I will love it all the same
And the boy with your name

I could wait for you
I could wait for ever

blood is thrumming in these veins:
to the beat of the sun’s breaths,
to the pulse of echoed birdcall,
to the rhythm of screaming life.

this heartbeat is dripping lava beneath the earth;
these eyes are morning mist draping pines;
these bones are hollow like the first snow;
these fingers are peaks brushing icy clouds;
in the right is held an ocean; the left, the desert sands;
and every inhalation mirrors another’s death.

try and tell me you are indestructible.
try and tell me you are paramount.
try and tell me you are not of the earth –
i dare you.
(these tides will rip you apart.)

I think I'm dying.
I'm crying because I need to lose more.
I'm crying because I need to feel more.
I'm dying to feel something, anything.
I'm dying to hear your voice again.
I'm dying to be alive.

You make me glad,
He makes me smile.
You make me laugh
And so does he.
You keep me safe,
I feel secure.
And what he says
Makes me bubble.
For I'm with you
But not with him,
I feel happy
As I do sad.
I am split in
Two even halves;
If only I
Could give you each
A piece of me
But faithfully.