I fell in love with a piece of paper
and a picture of you. Now here you stand,
and I don't quite know what I am to do…

We were lonely souls, you and I; felt like
only each other heard our laughs and cry.

Yet here we are, miles apart yet inches
so close. All I can hear are the words on
the paper; acting like an overdose.

You're not a picture, and neither am I,
falling in love was short; destined to die.

Love we did, even though our time quickly
ticked away. But my love was true; it could
not be born, ravish, and cease in a day.

A question in my head, it must be said:
Will I be back, as our history read?

True, I can not stop the dreams, but these bad
habits are hard to break. I'd rather miss
you than have more of your love bruises ache.

You're a part of me, like a glove, I can't
rid this picture and paper of you, love.

I will keep you near, of course, so you can
perhaps watch me grow, in awe or hatred,
to one day let go of your heavy woe.

Scars left from the battle of heart and mind --
My choice is clear, though it left my mouth ****.

My heart breaks, the body recuperates,
this time I’ve had enough of these rust gates.

Goodbye to the man in front of me, and
everyday Good Morning to the picture
staring, eyes bright, with pain and painted glee.

If only pictures showed what was below
the skin, then maybe we wouldn’t have sinned?

I am nothing but footprints in the sand
to him.
Odious, he who left me to fight the tides,
promised me forever.
How long is forever?
                               Three years, two months,
                               Eleven days, an hour
                               and twenty-three seconds.
Now he’s back,
expecting a norm so chimerical.
But, disconsolate as I am,
sleeping ‘til body withered--
crying ‘til eyes dusted--
Yet he’s obdurate to this, my Odious.
No amount of imprecations
can succor this heartbreak.
My armored skin,
antiquated from battles long and harsh--
turned to mere paper against his words.
He has me by the corner,
above the red, red flame
and wants to act like I am not burning.
Such a silver tongue, my Odious,
he can fabricate like no other.

My dear Odious,
     Leave me to fight the tides,
     as I hope your Promethean fever
     leaves you as cold
     and as alone
     as your true heart.
Yours always,
     Detritus

I don't fear heights anymore
Because I realize
I'm already falling.
Head first, arms outstretched,
Fingers achingly awaiting
The softness of your skin.
You have me in some strange place--
Where I'm among the stars
Yet stomach caught in free fall,
Head spinning
Yet eyes clearly seeing you,
Warmed by your arms
Yet shaking from your touch.
Down
        Down
                Down
                   ­      We go,
Yet we don't worry about the bottom.
As long as I have you now,
For this very second,
I don't care if I'm taken tonight.

I don't want to think about
What will happen to us.
I don't want to think about
     Next year,
          Next month or
               Next week.
I just want to think about
                    Tomorrow.

I don't know
What I'm wearing tomorrow,
What I'll eat for breakfast,
Or if I'll even wake up tomorrow.
What I do know is that
                    Tomorrow,
I'll still love you.

There’s a third space
That’s not quite here
Yet not quite there.
It’s a dark place
With no clear light
Other than the fireflies
That hover close listening,
To our quiet whispers
To our quick mumbling
And to the declarations.
There’s a slight drizzle,
But I don’t mind,
Because your voice is
      My umbrella
      My blanket
      My everything.
Close my eyes, listening
To the muffled backg­round,
It makes me think
I’m there with you.
But not quite there –
In a third         space,
With you beside me.
I don’t hangup first
Because I want to
Listen for your guard
As it falls         away
Some where in         that

                 Third space.

I saw fireworks

Tiny explosions of reds
yellows and purples colliding --
Fourth of July through a kaleidoscope

So much happening
yet my mind sits in a daze
Your lips, your taste, is everything.

My body is numb
The heart dictating all
until its beat rings clear

I saw fireworks

My mother told me once
To love yourself before you
Love others, because one
Day you'll be all you've got.
Well, what am I supposed to
Do now that she's left me?
She walked away in a fit of
Disgust and shame. I am as
Hollow as the empty beer
Bottles that litter the side of
The highway. If I can not
Trust myself to simply love
Myself -- if I am not capable
Of keeping her…

how could I possibly love you?

Love:
passionate affection or desire
for another person

A figurative roller-coaster,
the very thought of it excites and terrifies.
People wait in lines
for what feels like years --
sometimes they chicken out --
other times they strap themselves in.
Releasing themselves to the whim
of the mechanical beast,
they're powerless.
There will be moments
of pure ecstasy as they lerk forward,
plunging into the unknown.
Times of stillness will come --
sometimes the ride simply breaks down --
depending on the patience of the rider,
the ride might continue.
For most,
the ride will eventually end,
and they'll wait in someone else's line.
For few,
they'll ride that roller-coaster forever,
happily resting when all is said and done.

The single word that defines
all
                       of
                                               this
was obviously assigned by someone
who has never been on a roller-coaster.

Today I listened to our song.
The very thing that I avoided
like a plague that might **** me --
I forced myself through every second,
exactly three minutes and forty seven seconds.
Every note, measure, and lyric
was a shake in my once impenetrable fortress --
a reminder that even I am not perfect.

I walked out into the woods,
on a clear Autumn morning,
and used Daddy's hunting knife
to cut you out.

As if I were a surgeon,
cutting away with purpose,
no blood was lost as you fell
away from me.

You dropp'd to the forest floors,
drifting away with the wind,
I thought you were gone for good
that I was free.

You're anything but benign,
a creature from the dark woods,
following me as a wolf
out for the ****.

Helpless to spend the Winter,
cold and alone and empty,
waiting for your sure return
back to my heart.

Spring comes as you slither near,
hidden and slowly warming,
crawling and clawing upon
my cold body.

You've made your home by Summer,
nested in my hollow heart,
soaking in passionate love
that will not last.

I walked out into the woods,
on a clear Autumn morning,
and used Daddy's hunting knife
to cut you out.