I have no idea
what I feel anymore
I don't understand why
I seem to be the way I am

I no longer can
tell what emotion is
even if I could feel any, and
none of it cares to make sense  

I want to be near
other people and feel as
they feel for myself, to know I
still can and connect with them

But I'm constantly feeling
disconnected from myself and
regardless of what happens to me
I'll always feel as though myself is slowly
pulling away

Like block shaped wheels our lives stumble at the chapters we write
Corners seem dark and teeming with doubt,
alleyways call in echoes of our name,
as if tempting us to crawl when we cannot walk

                “Fear begins the parade at our fragile hearts”

Shades are drawn and slotted with eyes watching,
voices ring the halls of the buildings looming large,
rumors of pointed fingers find our ears in colander fashion,
dripping fear at our feet

                “Waves conduct sound, crashing vividly as we hear”

We cry,
hoping these tears will somehow wash the pain,
fill the gutters and move out to sea,
casting waves upon unsuspecting shores

                “Wishes…more waste than want…at least of these eyes”

When of the shadows a touch,
softly at first, then strong upon our shoulders fall…
comfort leaps to our hearts in sing song praise,
wishes become goals and finish line adventures

                “What is this light, soft yet sure, found within”

We are not alone, darkness hints at light
and butterflies fill our air with prism’d colors and soft breezes
collecting on our damp cheeks and drying the aftermath
of our understanding of reality

                “Dreams of these nightmares fade into happiness”

We find footprints in the dirt…two which are not our own,
closely, yet affectionately following our way and bringing direction
to our dreams, yet the nightmares still flourish
but we do not feel so alone

                “Fences built may keep us in yet… may keep us out”

For this hand, from a distance,
climbing mountains and fording rivers
leads our hearts to the safety of love just beyond the bricked wall,
the ivy covered monolith, the chain link disaster
which once stood locked

                “Finding that a breath may exhale peace…again”

Now stands open of the arbor of hibiscus
blooms and teapot pourings fore our eyes…open and hopeful of the coming truth
once lost beyond our dreams…and we breathe
for it feels right to breathe while standing in the darkness…not alone

Her voice held something, something so heavy for my ears
Her voice had that sound, the type of sound that makes you stutter in any way you could envision it

My heart was crippled, I was filled with bitterness
Resentment was tainted all over my tongue
My conscious was in the dark - in a tunnel where I couldn't hear it

But as she continued speaking - her voice had magic, it evoked the soldier in me
I fought for, because she kept me alive in a form of poetry

You see there's this chill I get when I picture her in the sight of my bed sleeping, her legs a mess, her hair flourish all over the many pillows I'll have set for her, her hands open with her fingers waiting for mine to collide with. she's perfect from the way her mouth moves to the way she utters the simplest of words,I can honestly say she is peace.  
                 My peace.
She groomed me and helped me become the man she one day look up to. I was broken down and she kneeled and put me back to get only now I am of her design which makes me better.

What a love she has, what a love she created. What a love, what a love she is.

By: @ofentsetsie & @_dvniel

she colored space-time
into her hair
using only a paintbrush and patience
strand by strand she formed it:
the glistening planets and stars that are
of her own mind
neurons shooting like rockets
envisioning the galaxies that, built from her hands,
exploded from nothing into everything,
tangible but free, whispering red gold light

she wrote out the oceans
using her hands
lakes rivers and streams, and the lands along the edges
word by word she poured it:
the life of each puddle turned into clay creatures
that breathed reality
existing like trees on the vast new savannas
living freedom that, carved from her fingertips,
developed happiness and sorrow,
careful but real, eating their new knowledge

she gave birth to gods
from her parted lips
speaking out deities and auras
making the small assertion:
that life came from her and all things by her
but the life she loves had long since forgotten
the green of her eyes
and the red rock of her skin,
her writings and whispers
floating throughout the summer smog
so she roared in the thunder and the rushing waves
for her children and worlds to listen
but they could no longer hear, and she was left
lost and awaiting, wrapped
in her own space-time hair

I need to ground myself
touch and feel the grass
smell the roses
for they are there

I need to ground myself
stop chasing that high, that rush
and let go
for it is time

I need to ground myself
start breathing the analogous real
and **** my avatar
before she kills me

grit sand conglomerate binds
friction holding - heel steady
tottering
navy lace snags
upon brick dipped in night
save for - street lamps poignantly
establishing form to
lips seeking
to traverse the topography of your structure
tongue craving - salivary essence about mine

my curls remember being dragged
across,
- then –
pressed firmly against the brick
snagging
on vertical groove and red clay
your pelvic bone
ground deep – pressurized
into dust against my own

Serotonin, oxytocin fuse
Blown -  
Neural patina – thick
Pompeii to Vesuvius
Diffuse
Carbon filament lattice
Clings - to
ancient couple
cuddling
in ashen grave

Compressed densely

Perchance time will compress this grit
creating friction under sole.

My life
Full of lonely nights you'll never see
The scars on my skin
Tell a story no one knows.
Nothing matters anymore
And I'm not who I want to be
So what is the point
To keep pushing forward?
I'm gone forever
At least on the inside
And it's crazy that no one could tell
If they didn't know me well enough.
Even those who have been around
Can't see how much I hide
And they just think I am happy
With a little pass of sad here and there.
Slowly I've lost my flair
To pretend that I'm not this bad
And it keeps going down, down
Falling out of my grasp.
But if you were to look into my head
Anyone would believe me mad
But sometimes I'm okay
And sometimes the moon shines blue.

I will never be mourned over
never be missed

I will never be cried over
So I slice my wrist

There were some roses, once, a long time ago.

They grew out of nothing, out of a tiny seed that burst and ****** its contents out into the new and terrifying air, and even then they didn't exist but for the idea that one day they might.

There were some roses, once:

the product of a process that included water and light and the removal of weeds and the implementation sharp protection from predators: deer and birds and squirrels and the like.

There were some roses once:

great surges of crimson fruit that bloomed so fiercely in their rebellion against the surrounding thorns
dedicated to the protection of the home of the finely spun veined silk that blossomed almost overnight.

There were some roses once:

Never has such beauty been guarded so staunchly;

and with good reason, for the rose in its radiance has but one short season to stretch its arms and breathe its perfume to which all lovers beg and swoon.

There were some roses once:

They faded,
green
then red
then crimson
then purple and umber.

But in their slumber we see the bloom we once beheld on that summer day.

We fondled their petals, hastened their decay.

There were some roses once, a long time ago.

They had to die, as if on cue, as living things tend to do,
and oh, they dried so elegantly!
Plainly meant for royalty.

And even in their most brittle form, they're somehow warm
Somehow still new.

So you plant some more, you cut the weeds, you draw blood on their thorny guards,
knowing that it's not for you, but for the birds in their back porch churchyard.

And the moment the first rose peers around from inside the womb, well
there's your reward,

to forward the growth of something so fragile and sweet.

So ruthless if you aren't aware of its teeth.