He wasn't a gambler
Anything risky with his heart he didn't take
Feelings compromised by false mistakes
All the chips he has
Kept safe
To selfish to place them on the table to play
Past bets almost emptied his bank
Lessons taught him what you lose isn't greater then what you gain
Always rolled snake eyes
Seven or elevens he didn't see
Until one day
He met the one
Promises of love brought out his chips
Now he was back in the game
At the gambling table
Chips in a neat row
But one by one they started to go
Every roll or a play of cards
He start to see she wasn't what he wanted
He lost more then what he wanted to get
Her promises of love
Didn't win him any chips
She was a counterfeit

Leaving the past behind is hard when it scorched your path
The future covered in ashes
A steady breeze blowing it back in your face
Choking on memorizes that can't be erased
Making it hard to forgot
Polluted airwaves
From a tragic event
Now the trek you on has been permanently marked
Each step taken
The ground gives at your feet
Beaten to a pummel in advance
Now every advance you take makes you think it will all end the same
The future, today's past
Makes moving on impossible
When you have a scorched past

The deepest ocean,
Waves in motion.
The deepest secrets
The more you keep it,
The deepest cut,
Happens when the door is shut.
The deepest night,
Is when you can't sleep right.
The deepest hour,
Is when I start to cower.
The deepest fear,
Is when I disappear
The deepes mind,
Always finds.
The deepest heart,
Is torn apart

It seems to me that your hands cannot find stable ground
they hover over soil,
not hard enough
they brush past rock
not fertile enough
they race past trees that aren’t high enough
but soar over cliff faces too dangerous to remain there for long
and your hands grow weary as they search
for a type of material with which they can make their dreams concrete

they are afraid to rest for too long
lest they forget the soft touch of grass
or the formidable strength of stone
they wish to remember all at once
While in their quest remembering nothing at all
to hold the earth in their fingerprints
to hold the earth and if not--
then nothing at all.

your hands have become weary, dear writer
let them rest
let them feel the mud between their soft nail beds
do not wash them. There is the world there, in your grasp.
You cannot let it go
even when the earth washes from the lines in your skin
it will leap back into your embrace through the air that you breathe
you were created to be its embodiment
so do not wander
you never have.

The world is at a stand still
Only I move
Land mines planted for me to step on defused
I've seen how I end
I conspired against the truth
Words from the TV brain washing my youth
A road already paved for me
But I choose a dusty trail
Off the map I track
My tale rewritten
Edited by the all mighty
In this moment I'm not alone
She walks beside me
My dusty trail is now her own
Conceived on the same day
Out of the cold Birth something warm
In this moment

Born like any normal foal at first sight
Out it came with its four legs in the spring light
Its hair shined in the sunlight
Its first steps weren't good
But soon it got them right
Two days past before anything strange came about
A horn appeared in the center of its head
No longer a normal colt
An anomaly that was thought to be pure bread
But instead It turned into something magical
Its hair turned icy white
It would shimmer under the moonlight
Its horn grew in a spiral with a solid gold tip
Its tail whipped as it walked
Beautiful
But a defect
Stumbled upon human eyesight
An anomaly never seen before
Stolen under the cover of night
Put to sleep to be humane and polite
Then dissected

There's a lot of pain in her eyes
She tried to hold all it back
But it showed when she cried
She was promised happiness
But It was all a lie
She believed in happy endings
Just not in fairy tales
She burned the pages of her own story
Believed she could start a new
Looking into her eyes
The unwritten story was sown
Painfully crystal blue
Tried love but it backfired Camouflage her hurting behind a smile  
But every once in awhile
You could see the pain In her eyes

If you can forgive love can truly live
Letting go of what scared your past
Clears out your walking path
Holding on is a poison that destroys you
Corrosive
Deteriorating your heart
A venom immune to any cure
Forgive
Lifting the straps holding you down
Your bound no more
Only when you forgive can you truly love
Only if you can forgive

Walking over empty gun sells
The battlefield decorated with creators
Ground still sizzling from the bombs let loose
Vacant magazine lay in piles
Two forces holding nothing back
Letting bullets fly
Will do anything to claim victory
White flags turned to ash
This is a fight to the death
But before this all started
They had one enemy
The world
When love was around they had each others back
But it dwindle
Now they aim at each other
With no love
Each other they attack
Now this relationship is war

They get lost in each other's hugs
Skin soft like a fluffed rug
Sink into each other like a sat in bean bag
Others get jealous from their over bragging
How much in love they are
They don't see the ripples in each other skin when they walk
Or there over bearing movements on the surface of their face when they talk
Their love more sweeter then the cupcakes they bake
Rich like the chocolate they consume
They huger for each other's affection
A bigger appetite for it more then food
They see each other as equals
Not a health risk or a person who can't control there weight  
No love is bigger then obese love

plot out distances between freckles
and count the amount of hairs;
in a beauteous analysis
a cold witnessing
of)a featured lifeless gaze
projected onto windows
refracted in time with the pounding
from lost soulless ghouls
in a dank puddled basement
as we stare through keyholes

the length of life waits to rescind
to wash up on the shoreline
anew, once refreshed
with Angina on

wading in cyclic waves
in deposits of reveries
stale orangeade sonatas
and dull area tirades


the purpose
economized

every axiom
americanized

and as your atoms become depersonalized
tension is materialized, in ornate ivory
shattered brass instruments rusted by
novels written to god
in a
fractured light
and range

cramped in a curtailed distance
a brickwall deadend universe
gnashing with frustration
****** yawns of futility

closed viaducts
and vacant lots
deafened eyes, grey
glimmering in retort
to their own expression


blind sight was squandered by the snapback, of all the
strings of the orchestra as they were simultaneously snipped
by sharp prying eyes, listening to the mixing of paint
to smell the music, its arms limp, vivid
wishing to pull you back (in hindsight)
with dreaded, deadened incantations
a dithyrambic liturgy to the drunken thoughtless night
of slurred litanies and unappeasable, irascible deities
lonely and immaculate, all-powerless and deft
in irksome quarrels and arguments
glossed over by the fine print of another
exalting the vainglorious self-inscribed paragons
and revelling every inadmissible mistake

gazing past to a solo star
dumbstruck and dead
from an evaluation
and dehydration

dying to know
forget it.