Dear Purple,
Said too much too soon
****** covered bathroom
Late night afternoons
Broken heart,
To death do us part
To many emotions as I depart
My soul fades to the dark
Dear purple,
I cry the coldest tears
On the warmest nights
Dear purple,
I can only pray for stronger days
As my body turns to gray

Trapped in these walls of confinement waging war with the unknown whispers residing in these hollow hallways my soul grasps
Infinite solitude engulfs the flames in which I burn
Wandering down a dim lit hallway where all living things die
Lost inside twists and turns that hold no direction to civilization
Thick fog seems to follow my steps where the sun doesn't shine and the clouds roll
The ground is weightless to heavy feet and light air
Drifting off somewhere between here and now but ending up in the same place
This place seems familiar, the emptiness of an occupied room, and a hint of obscenity
The smell of these damaged walls lingers like the stench of cigarette smoke
It sinks deep into the follicles for permanent residence

you gave your heart, you gave your soul
all in the name of rock and roll
you sang of the pain that we all know
so many people hate to see you go

still growing are the seeds you sowed
a life lived fast, a song played slow
your tortured soul wasn't just for show
you'll live on, in my radio

The feeling
To whom it may concern.
Caressing the curves of her hips has been long thought about.
Dancing to the music she makes.
Hearing her voice as we bicker or chat has been long considered about.
Listening to the breaths she takes.
Oh, listen to me going on. I’ve been fished in like trout, finding my hook like song writers, and yet I still take the bait with each passing day. Is it literal connection or mere intrigue of infatuations? Am I just ranting when I speak of her perfect imperfections?
She is an addiction as sweet as chocolate, but one so healthy as to compare to spinach, and I’d love to sample that intimacy. She’s a flower dancing in the wind, unaware of the forces provided, but yet opening her petals as the rain lets a staccato of drops down to nourish her.
And I watch as this little flower grows. And I develop a feeling.
A feeling that goes beyond love, reaching a plane that love can only lust to achieve. Beyond a hunger for attention and reaching into the very depths of my heart to pull out the emotion.
Reminiscence.
She is my future memory and my present past. A thought constantly on my mind, a form ever in my head and an opinion intended for gain. She is everything I lust, and yet lust doesn’t seem to be the word.
When she speaks, fireworks in my mind tell me to pay attention, forcing reactions out of me that I can only pray were subtle. When we match eye contact, my heart skips two beats before going back to normal, freezing my body in the wish of a romance. When she laughs, the tune replays in my mind, one of the things which I would love to hear over and over again.
Mirror, mirror on the wall, of all the fairer that roam these halls, tell me why it is that I choose one of whom I know the least, one of whom I struggle to speak to and stutter when around. Starlight, star-bright, tell me on this fair night, why I’d love her, though I wish I might, when we connect in so many other ways.
Giddy, graceful, gorgeous girl, with a side of personality unexplored. She still remains a mystery that I realize I may never solve. But it doesn’t deter me, in fact, I’m rooted like oak, mind twisted like tornadoes as I continue my last daydream of you.
Once again, you are my wish.
Once again, you’re on my mind.
And once again, I pray that someday,
You Let Us Love
~The Feeling

Brand new night

New lovers every night, their memories strewn about my heart
Like poppy seeds.
Constantly changing in a never- ending rotation cycle of light and dark
Like day and night.
We meet, greet, know, and immediately love. It makes me feel good to have the attention at times.
But I never quite keep it.
Even when I have it, there’s always something wrong.
I leave her for her
But then leave her for another…. And then have that one break up with me.
It makes me feel
Tempered.
Makes me feel like even when I find my counterpart, there’s something that’s missing or holding us in a place where secrets may be common knowledge, but then common knowledges are secreted.
Everyone knew. Friends, parents, and even complete strangers… But the only person who didn’t know was me.
Is this a curse?
I open my heart for yet another, memories strewn over my soul. And once again, I think I know love.
But yet again, I fall short by mere millimeters and crash down back to the reality of my situation.
I’m desperate for a recreation.
I knew love one day, and maybe will one day soon enough
But I’m still on the edge of my mind contemplating who shall victimize my heart again in the toxins of the addictive chemical considered romance on this
Brand New Night.

Baby girl, if there’s one thing I would tell you right now, it’s that you truly drive me crazy.
Don’t get it confused, I was always crazy, but you drive me more so. You push me past the levels of my normal mind and force my creativity. You open my vocal chords unexpectedly and take on information as if you were the processing unit of a computer.
I feel I can tell you anything and everything and you wouldn’t judge.
I feel like I can do nearly anything and you won’t keep a grudge.
But, who knows, maybe I’m wrong. Could it be that you’ve got ya boy kickin’ the back of his heels with the tips of his toes? Could it be you’ve got a brotha blockin’ thoughts of thots that you think he’s got?
You said I had too many crushes, said that that was a problem. But you also admitted to having crushes even though you were taken. How Ironic.
But you also said you were pained in your past, and you said you were interested in the intimacy of someone who could provide it.
Well, I can’t make any promises, but I can at least try.
I was a rusty spirit before I met you, and, no lie, baby girl, you’ve destroyed that layer of rust and brought the poet back.
Unknowingly, you gave me an inspiration.
So I can’t wait to talk to you, can’t wait to hear that pretty voice with the southern accent, or see those pretty eyes brightened with an eternal flame that not even your past trials could extinguish.
Can’t wait to be with you again.

Love letter 22