hostile,
and aggressive,
maybe you are
perfect for me,
darling.

I am a poet.
Only lie in
Writing.

My Darling,
My instant clarity,
My strangely shaped gravity,
You are the air I breath.

For You,
Your kindly heart,
The question mark
that lies in the dark
becomes insanity

An oath
of silent love,
A diplomat
of a fraud
I strive to be
to live.

If you want something to make sense
then allow so.

~

5:37 am

5:37 am…the morning is silent,
eerily so that I can hear nothing
louder than I ever have before
Not a bird sings as the sun still sleeps
outside of this four walled solitude
Slowly drinking a cup of coffee,
wondering why I even exist

5:42 am…staring into the dark spaces
surrounding my mind like elastic memories
While I write these words
of absolutely no reason,
as if they will heal somehow, take the pain
scatter it upon horizons
that no longer have meaning

5:46 am…somehow I enjoy this silence
Seeing my shadow below,
head in hands on the surface of my desk,
painting charcoal pictures of loneliness,
listening to key strokes breaking the quiet,
hoping this faux ink erases the past,
yet I believe nothing can…5:51 am