Outside my window
my unrequited loves waits,
a summer world lit aflame
dances deep in space,
and in love I burn the same.

Outside my window the world breathes
with lovely limbs swaying
in this warm sunny day breeze,
with all those plant particles
that make me cough and sneeze,
but I am still pleased
to see all this outside beauty.

Outside my window children play,
wandering in random ways
working and reacting on instinct,
creating and destroying realities
right there before me.

Outside my window are a million stories,
some written, some soon to be
someone’s great discovery,
some fantasies, others slightly altered
perceptions of reality.

Outside my window lay all possibilities,
to be hates and rejected,
loved and respected,
or feel the world’s indifference
in reference to some
preference for apathy.

One hug can collapse
my inner galaxy,
bringing me to the verge of tears.
Till I push them back
confused
by the strangeness
of my own madness.

The universe is pulsing,
beating and growing,
a heartbeat quickening
to vast to be understood
but still sickly constricting
as if time and space is convicting
me of crimes I have yet to commit
and some sins man has not yet
gotten around to inventing.

So, I am venting pulsars of pain
that rotate out and around then
back in again.
My black hole dilations
greedily absorb all of the light,
and space flotsam,
never returning anything.

Unending, beyond comprehending,
still I keep bending my mind
in strange contortions
to understand humanity’s
and spacetime’s weird distortions.

A stranger’s smile,
a salty smirk,
a playful break
from life’s work;

Short blonde hair
waves from
several seats away,
beyond my reach
but does not escape
desire’s eyes.

A beautiful young,
pretty someone,
who I will never see again,
is passing, barely speaking,
but listening intently
to the night’s poetry.

Then she evaporates
into a mist of
mystery,
before I get the chance
to say anything
worthwhile to her.

Instead, desire
dries and dies,
a bitter note
choking
in my throat.

Holy is the faulty flesh
of friends failing and falling
to the final ravages of decay.

It’s the sweet sensation
of a warm beverage;
Caffeine to enliven me,
tired to waking in degrees.
Till, I am super alert,
but later succumb to sleep.

It’s a mind explosion,
a space explorer
or interior traveler
of the unconscious,
deep unraveler
of hidden truths
that are buried
within me and you.

Holy is the unfulfilled desire
driving us towards a goal
we may never achieve,
a dream we may never
live to see become a loving reality.

Holy is the undiscovered country,
one that does not wait at the end of life
but beckons us forth from the caverns
of our mind to unlock our own inner divine.

I am a black dot on a piece of paper
a single mark within the infinite
you have already erased her
all that’s left is sin and dirt
this skin does hurt
the pain is real
it’s a slow boring
that’s reduced me to kneel
my words are boring
but I continue to write still
maybe I will find the answers
somewhere between the lines
if only I could have asked her
instead, we only drew knives
to cut away at each other’s flesh
to reveal the emptiness inside
now her surname is death
and I’ve run out of places to hide
so slip your ring upon my finger
let my breath taste like winter
for I am just a black dot
a single mark
what you forgot
left in the dark
a tired writer
she had all the strength
I am nothing like her
I can’t even repent
I know I was meant to learn
from all my mistakes
but all I do is burn
amidst all that is fake
I can’t change the world
I couldn’t even change her heart
just a stupid boy that loved a girl
now a black dot a single mark.

Today is death.
I was promise it would only be
minor increments of damage killing me.
Disintegration in degrees,
a slow erosion of my identity.

Whilst flakes of skin
break from my thin
frame and fly away.
My mind does the same,
but unlike my flesh
does not regenerate.

Thoughts once clear
get foggy then farther away.
Till there is only an inkling
of the shrinking remembrance.
Then it finally blinks out
before I realize that
it was leaving for good.

The person I was
becomes confused
with the man I was
in my youth,
two beings merging
and separating
as important aspects
begin evaporating.

Memories become harder
to retain,
and impossible to regain.
So, I lose my name
on the very same
day I lose the faces
of those I’ve loved.

My mobility goes from limited
to non-existent.
All functions autonomic
loose cohesion
and I go from resting
to wheezing
trying to capture
a breath that doesn’t
want me.

Mind gone,
body follows
making my cold form hollow.

Then the memory of me,
becomes distorted.
My family and friends
lose tiny bits,
and bigger parts
of our shared past.

Till, all who knew me pass.
Then at last
the words I left
are swallowed up
in cosmic chaos,
lost with all that human
flotsam.

I imagined
the softness
of two lips
sharing a moment,

the sweet pressure
of personal gravities
pulling two people
into a collapsing orbit,

how fingers fit,
how the taste
of her lips
would push me on
to higher states
of desire.

I dreamed
of being one,
two bodies combined
by the passion
that has defined
my species
for quite some time.

I wanted to be
fulfilled,
by a fantasy,
but fantasies
do not equal
reality.

The arithmetic
does not add up
one bit.

So, I settle
for a self-purging
of this urgent
****** urging,
that is overworking
my human system.

We are all flowers in the end,
meant to bend,
or break
and go dancing in the wind.

We are all particles of lights,
crashing against time
like waves crash against the shore.

We are all snowflakes in a storm,
fluttering flurries that will melt
when it gets warm.

We are stories, minor memories
that are fading,
fading, fading
still glowing,
but knowing
that the days of dimming
will come,
that we will run
straight into
me, you, and eternity,
into
me, you, and infinity.

I am the happy new year.
I bring you pain and new fear.
It is anxiety that roams near,
making me a broken vacancy
sign that blinks stay clear.

Happy new year to you dear.
Isn’t this fun son.
We haven’t done
much yet but I bet
we won’t forget
this unless we’re dead.

What a wonderful beginning
coming on the end of last year’s ending.
We have been working and bending,
saving and straining, staining our hearts
now it’s time for a new start.

Happy freaking new year,
and it better be or else you will see,
cause this isn’t someone threatening
this is just the new year beckoning
come on in friend.

This is where the year begins again.

I am working on my obsession,
getting ready to maximize
the level of my videogame guys.

It’s an hourly endeavor
a corporate game that is
supremely clever,
for its frequent firings
of the dopamine
neurotransmitter.

So, unconsciously
I am driven to spend
hours on end
thinking about
or playing
and sometimes paying
for a game I don’t need

I am gone.
Far and wide
I roam,
but still
I long
to find
my way
home.

A voyager
in this vast expanse,
a performer
in this
tragic dance,
I spin and twirl
on a world
that moves me
against my will,
farther away
from my history
and the roots
I once felt.

I move,
each step away,
unable to retrace
and find that place
from which I came.

Still the stars
call my name
tugging on some
deep and worrisome
instinct
that says
you will never
go home again.