not wanting to leave
is still no reason to stay,
because sometimes though you're here
I can tell you're far away.

I can see it in your eyes,
I can feel it in your kiss
so I'd rather want you to go
than to be in superficial love.

I lie awake in chilling darkness
Wilting lids refusing to unite
Mind unwilling to drift into peaceful slumber
Body wrestling the solitude of my empty bed
Yearning to be enveloped in the warm cocoon of his arms
But only finding a desolate space of sheets and pillows
My hand reaches for the only lifeline to my love
I swipe away a collection of meaningless pixels
And find a familiar figure
The axis of my world
I gaze into the pair of eyes that send whirlwinds through my aching heart
A beautiful dance of green and brown
My sight shifts to a glowing smile
Emitting sunbeams through the window of my amorous soul
I focus on every centimeter of skin
And feel my longing shift to content
Content of my lips parting his once more
Content of the pure ecstasy of his hand on mine
Content of the day we no longer have to say goodbye
For 300 miles may divide our bodies
But no force may untether our souls.

I am quiet in a line of on-lookers, big-thinkers, hell-raisers
I sing a song to a corner in the room
It winks and blinks along the beat as
Large shadows confidently raise their arms in triumph.

I am sitting still, a floating ocean depth silence
Watching waves crash and clatter miles overhead--
What fun they must be having out there in the world!
Where the blue is sometimes yellow or pink and
All one knows is not only the dark, deafening hush of
Blue--Where
The colors really taste like they advertise:
Savory sweet honey orange, supple plump green melon,
Ripe for the picking, these--

These are the pickers.
With their power-tool loudness, their "I can fix it!"
The red-runners, the green-makers.
Their lawns rolling out like gold ****** dresses
Reveling in their own chaste gold underskirts under a matching
Gold sun
The earth bowing her shoulders to make room

I am the crisp subtle crunch between bites
The shamed blouse of the *****
The sufficiently watered bud among a field of tall daisies
The pause in your breath
The silence of an empty house

The quiet lemon shavings left on
The quiet cutting board,
Bleeding rind by way of knife

The metaphor in a poem -- waiting in quiet verse
To rear its head to the reader

How many empty glass bottles can you shove into a bag
Before it all leaks out the bottom
I am the bottom
A soft reflection in the train-car window

I see you all.
I hear you.

I don't know quite yet if
I understand you
Rambling on in high buildings with your
***** reared high.
Whether love is just temporary obsession or
If one can make it to death without truly living.

But I do know, quite often, that there is meaning
In complete
Silence.

--
c

******* gon’ hate on that fruit salad game
Cuz I don't want no money, I don't want no fame
Go say I’m a joke, say that I'm lame
This **** is a hobby straight outta the brain
So **** all y'all *******
All up in my britches
I think I need stitches
I know I need stitches
Down in the dirt
***** shirt
Pretty girl
Tilt a whirl
What a world
I keep in pocket
Scissors scissors
Open unlock it
By the lake
Big mistake
Hood rat hos
From the east earthquake
Third eye glowin’
Like a Force all knowin’
Like a full moon showin’
My ***** keep goin’
Wrote two rhymes in 24 hours
Spittin sweet while you gettin’ sour
Get cleaned up go take a shower
Nothin gon’ stop this inner power
**** you put out come back times three
I be on that wavy positivity
So I don't really care bout your beef w me
I'm lightin this L so humbly
Witch hunt
Sylph ****
***** mouth
Runnin’ out
Common era gotta common error
Looking for purpose
Shed a new layer
Don't it tear
No one is there
Fair is fair
Fair is fair
Shed a new layer
Shed a new layer
Fair is fair
Fair is fair
Cup up like scissors
***** I’m a wizard
Blew in like blizzard
I’m colder than winter
Fair is fair
Shed a new layer
Fair is fair
Shed a new layer
Fair is fair
Shed a new layer
Don’t let it tear
No one is there
Shed a new layer
Shed a new layer

Too spun to know the sound of pain
But the notes are there
Everyone's feelings are different
Time is medicine
Among other clichés
But feelings should be humbled
Time as an hourglass
stretching across the desert
An eternity to heal
An eternity to forget
Needles to the skin
Lonely painted rooms
Yearning for attention
The house, an empty cardboard box
What alone really means
A golden shrine to kneel in front of
A stone to plant flowers
Bringing about memories
A slap on the face
Black and white movies
Tears
Humming an unknown tune
The taste of salt lingers
Presence no longer with us
I searched for traces of her existence
The voice
Gentle hands
I found her hoard of papers
Among them,
One I wrote
About how I cannot connect with family
stomach voided
wanting to connect with you
Chest tightens
I just didn't know how
And here it goes again

I’m sorry.
My beautiful stanzas,
For not keeping in touch with you.
Somewhere along the way
I abandoned you.
And never wrote back.

I’m sorry.
My sweet verses
I have not forgotten you.
I have only forgotten the feelings in you.
And my heart can't bear to remember.

I’m sorry.
Meaningless Haikus.
I thought I could make some sense out of you.
But I will always be a few words away
from finishing you.

I’m sorry.
Untitled works.
You are amazing.
But I couldn’t give you what you deserved.
I left you raw.
Unpolished.
Unfinished.

I’m sorry.
That I scroll past you.
That I am to forgetful to finish you.
But to proud to erase you.

I’m sorry.
That while you remain
unfinished and unpublished.
I continue giving birth to
New works and
New ideas.

I will finish you one day.
Not today.
Not now.
But someday.
And until that day,

I’m so sorry.

It’s been months, love,
and you’re far, and have someone new,
but I’ve been dancing all this time,
in our living room, with you.

Even this Cohen record tires,
of playing this song you loved most,
but I swear I feel your hands in my hair,
and you make a handsome ghost.

And I know that this glow is your tail lights,
but I love how it bathes your skin.
I’ve missed all these meals waiting,
so I’ll have my white dress taken in.

Give me a few hours, to tape my face on,
to my bones, my heart: our plans;
truth is, while you were saying goodbye,
I was memorizing your hands.

I hope you don’t mind living this double life,
because I need just little more time,
and if all I have is your absence,
that’s fine.