Curls brush my shoulder blades
reminding me of your fingertips

so I cut them down

to one word texts
and a dozen missed calls

Afraid to lie in the beds I've made,
I seek comfort in your sheets

Your morning sighs,
my springtime breeze

This oak tree
Stands so tall,
It’s so thick, it can stand against
Any windstorm, at any day
Wind is all that comes out your mouth

I’ve got nothing on you
Nor do you on me.
If you claim me, keep me.
If you don’t, set me free.

This oak tree
Moves with grace.
It moves and sways to the breeze.
Its branches, arms in the air,
Move to the sound of hallelujah

I’ve got nothing on you
Nor do you on me.
If you claim me, keep me.
If you don’t, set me free.

& you just keep breaking me.
I just wish your love was stable,
& I wish your love was free.
Cut the oak tree down
So fast &hard; that others hear.
A million could.
If you’re going to build a cabin,
At least have a foundation,
Or just turn me into firewood.
& burn it like our bridges.

But this oak tree
Doesn’t say much,
It doesn’t say anything at all
It has nothing to say to you

I’ve got nothing on you
Nor do you on me.
If you claim me, keep me.
If you don’t let me be free.
Let me be me.

It only takes a few minutes
For lighting to flash,
& to make a tree fall.
A tree so tall it almost touched the sky
A tree that provided for its creatures
Bearing fruit from a branch
As if it were a human
Holding out their hand saying,
“This is for you”.
It stands no longer,
With no more to give.
While skies are grey
Darkening the world
With no sign of sunlight
We were birds trying to fly
While our wings were wet
A futile effort.
We were drenched,
we were cold,
& we were tired
Tired of fighting this storm.
When the wind stopped blowing,
& the sun started glowing
Through a gap between the clouds
I felt dry,
I felt like it was safe to leave.
So I did.
But I was cold & alone,
So I came back for you.
You welcomed me with open arms
& we danced all night.

you told me I could tell you anything.

and from my tongue slipped chaos.

broken consonants, faulty vowels, damaged syllables.

from my heart slipped shattered feelings that cradled every word that was to be delivered to your sensitive ears.

I spoke unto you everything that was hidden.

I brought them back to life and served them to you on a platter so silver you can see my innocence fading from your eyes looking back at you as you stared in it.

and from my soul slipped trust.

and into your hands it entered.

and then I was safe.

you may not have understood.

but you listened.

and that was more than I could do for myself.

My mental capacity is reaching its max
Ideas don't develop to their full potential like they used to, leaving them in a minor state
They can't be touched by man without it considered to be molestation
My words are virgins, seeking to be sought
But this isn't the place to be a wanted thought
The world doesn't want truth, and they're nothing but innocent
Truth is inevitable but unfortunately, it's not prevalent
We prefer the ugly in the lies, and treat it like a *****
Show it the love that is only deserved to be seen by a woman that you've taken the hands of in the face of the All Mighty.
You **** it. **** it. Lick it dry.
Oh the amount of love you're willing to show, to something like a lie
"But it's right there"
That's your only excuse
Because you're way too lazy to seek the beauty of the naked truth
We're removing the sweetness from the sugar
And the melodies from the songs
All to try to belong in a world that has no problem with moving right on along
Without us
This isn't how it's supposed to be
We're supposed to feel the softness on the rugged trunks of the trees
We're supposed to sing with the wind and hum with the bees
We're supposed to write on the skies using the ink provided by our seas
But we're not.
This is how the story goes
This is how the end unfolds
With that incomplete feeling
That undeveloped thought
Cause my words are nothing but virgins…seeking to be sought.

My mind woke up, and its first thought was you.
Then my heart rubbed the grogginess out of its eyes and readjusted itself to the newness of the morning.
The instant it realized what my mind was thinking, a pang shot out all through it and it started to ache.
It was reminding me of why I shouldn't.
My heart and head do this every morning, and every morning I make them stop.
It's too draining to deal with on a daily basis.
My mind should know better by itself now, but it’s willing to break every single last rule when it comes to you.
Have you no mercy upon me? Upon my heart? Upon my mind?
Have you no compassion for the pain that you put me through?
Most mornings I feel guilty, as though I should go back to sleep, but there’s no point seeing as you take over my dreams too.

It’s always you, and I’m convinced that it always will be.

I go to sleep, it’s you.

In my dreams? You.

When I wake up... It’s no other than you.

The cycle is vicious.
You’ve overstayed your visit.

Please… just pack your bags and be gone, my head no longer wants to be your home.

of the tongue
               and body
           as it beats
              the demons
                 of my own silence to a gentle hum –
  a drunk laced
   representation
    of what the watching eyes
                                        desire,
            ­                            crave,
                              ­          emulate
                                          in their sacred spaces –
      center stage
     with every performer
         abroad this conditioned
               disillusion –
     how it masks
      all the confusion
       for those that
         jumped in early –
   the lights
    look so friendly
   when you need them,
      but it's you
        who feeds
            them –
          and you die
    without knowing it,
                 you cry
    without showing it –
    mourn, in distractions,
      what could have been;
      what could have been
          if you didn't have
             to keep on
                       searching –

    the pen marks
   rely on the same security,
       lost in its
        contrived purity –

           the light is blinding,
            but it keeps us from
  rewinding,
  reminding
    our hearts of the pain
    or the game,
all the same –

wanting too much
for no good reason -

Left
in the lurch

Time
       flies
Bye
Free for
the taking
But
Words fail
of their own account
To redeem
   Themselves
       In the
Wake
Of their
binding reality