this morning, at 3:17

I was laying on your chest

awake

listening to your heartbeat

and I realized that

it is no longer my favorite song

goodbye

I would write you a poem

to tell you how I feel

but when you left

the melodic flow that

passionately pieced

my words together

followed you

out

the

door

he kept picking away at me

and when I told him to stop

he would kiss me lightly and say

“I’m almost there”

day and night

he would pick away

and eventually

I got used to it

I started to help him

not knowing what he was looking for

I began to pick at myself

until the floor beneath us

was coated in gravel

dust in the air

together, we would pick away

but one day

I was just so tired

so I stopped

and out of nowhere

I began to laugh uncontrollably

tears rolling down my face

unable to catch my breath

he began to laugh with me

until he suddenly stopped picking too

for the first time

he stopped

he took my face in his hands

and held it

then, he stared at my smile

and into my eyes

then once more at my smile

and he smiled

as he pulled me into him and whispered

there it is

I’m here

I want to lay in the dark

tell you all my secrets

and listen to yours

I don’t want you to reply

or try to console me

and I promise not to do the same

because silence is golden

but true beauty lies in listening

and when we are both done speaking

I want to kiss your lips lightly

so that you know I understand

then I will roll over so that my back is turned to you

and I want you to turn into me

you will place your arm around me

and pull me into you

I want you to trace along my shoulders

and kiss me so lightly

that I shiver

and then I want to sleep

in your arms

I just want to sleep

I can hear:
                   The depth of the silence
And in the distance,

                  It waits.
Lurking between the grey solitude of here
                                                                            And there.
Then and now.

Synchronizing
The ambient future,
Reflecting a shriek of joy and pain
                                                             cries of laughter,
that lick its lips around the coast
To taste this moment.

Is it real
Stay now.
be here now.

For the past is illusive,
Dividing the mystical thought,
From a maximized reality.
Do not wait for a sunset that’s everlasting,
But live in the grass seed
            Of today.

It grows as dawn sheds night
And early day brings rain
That clouds the everlasting light
From withering your core.
From the solitude of tomorrow.
The memory of yesterday, to pass way
for today.

                                 But there is no tomorrow.

Always standing in front of the wall
Waiting for the strength to break through
The bricks to tumble, the spark of sunlight to warm me;
Embrace me; fill me.

Waiting, always waiting.
Will the bomb ever fall? Destruct whats been created?
Tumble dry, collapse among the wet grass.
[Who built you up? Who made this?]
Standing in the same position, shading others from the sun.
Break down-
let me see the inside: shine through.

Sinking in the hands of time,
The granules slip amidst a common dream.
Time going slower than speed.
Scared for the empty palm, the vision of skin.
So I hide-
I fill the palm until it overflows.

But stopping still in whats become,
Waiting for the thread to come undone;
So I can slip and fade;
Relying on the things that keep me sane-
Making me insane.


And then what will the morning show?
The same reflection casting; catching the current
Flowing with the river
Tangling in the cool water, kissing the breeze.
Can I just get a taste?

Ive watched you grow and retreat
Ive seen the waves come close
And get ****** back in
I've watched the green dance with blue;
The combination of salt and air,
That soothes the rough current.
You’ve come close and pulled back,
Swallowed me whole and spit me out.
But no matter where the tide may go, the salt is always its product,
No matter how far you get from the shore,
The current will send you back again.

As the sun smirks.

Slowly destroyed.
Put down.
Stood up.

Every day she tried
To better herself.
But, in the end,
It was easier
To shut out and hide.

She tried to appear bona-fide.
But where her life was going -
She felt it was up to others to decide.

It’s not that she always wanted to be lead.
It’s that, when she really needed it,
No one ever heard what she said.

But when given the chance to freely express
Herself with no limit,
All the judgments she’s ever heard
Seemed to push their way into the spotlight,
Now well-lit.

Crossing paths with others
Who have done great for themselves,
She thinks,
I wonder how it brought them here,
Their trip through hell…

She needs no reminders of where she could be.
A look in the mirror
Is all she needs to see.

Even the physical scars of the past
Are evidence of
Where all these moments,
Called life,
Have taken her;
Right up to the last.