when we met,
the sprout blossomed

when we kissed,
the bud bloomed

when we exchanged rings,
the flower grew out

when we were at life's peak,
the flower shone like the stars

when we were getting older,
the flower started to wither

when you passed away,
the petals started to flow away

i sit here alone,
in front of your
grave, setting
down the flower
that once bloomed
as our love did.

i have loved you,
over the years,
throughout my
life, we overcame
those difficult and
hard years, together.

i love you, and i will
always be with you,
and you will always
be with me, wherever
i go.

Why do we fall so fast
What makes the heart turn from friends to wanting more
Nothing changes on the outside, yet everything changes on the inside
The heart is just a physical part
It’s all in the mind they say
But why does it strike so deep in the chest
Breathing deepens
Heartrate quickens
and the body flushes with a heat seen nowhere else
Why do things change so rapidly
What makes the heart grow fonder when there is nothing more to love
Every time
Every new person
It’s the same thing
The same feeling, the same painful, endless cycle
What can make it stop? What will cease the useless void of longing and hope for something that could never and will never exist? Is there such a thing? Is there such a thing that exists that is no more destructive than the very thing we are trying to mask?

The human mind is so beyond complex, but to choose just one single thing to understand wholly about the human brain and its thoughts, reasoning, and comprehension, the form of falling in love would be the one.

Tenderly  now  He's calling,
Weary  one, hear Him say,
"Why will you doubt and falter,
Why will you cease to pray?"
Aching with pain and restless,
Life be a burden too,
Look there's a fount of healing
Out of His heart  for you.

The water rises,
And I awaken in the dark of the tunnel stream.
The lights have vanished,
And my perception is lost.

As my eyes are open;
Home to view these ancient walls.
In paintings, I have only seen
These deathly catacomb halls.

My lights awaken,
The water shaken.
Gone are the hooded paintings; stolen
From the dephs of the catacomb halls.

From the doctrines of space and nature,
I paint the walls with answers
To guide the ancients who rebuilt the city.
Once more, the water rises.
One more, another body
To flow through the tunnel stream.

Paths have crossed, cost is sin.
Found it lost.
Defeat him, defeat him.

The rivers feral, cholera sets in.
No habit sterile.
Repeat him, repeat him.

Roll over the carpet on your cheek.
Jostle that scar you've kept so neat.
The secrets of two whom dare not speak.
Their season, the fall, not so bleak.

By the end I just paid him to silence her doubt.

How long must we culture them?
Nostalgias grinding gears again.
Indifference starts to begin.
Never what they could have been.

Lectured threads have come undone.
The paraphrase has yet to come
My heart begs it's not for one.
It works for you but not for some.

Don't read my heart.
Don't press her luck.
You've one in the chamber.
But your hands locked up.

We've called the shot.
No one's forgot.
He mourned tomorrow as he lost God.

She saw the pause.
Let slip the cause.
I'm not the human you thought I was.

By the end I just paid him to silence her doubt.


No, I never knew this place.
God sent me here to see.
But I'm drawing closer to the exit.
I must find a place to hide memories.
I've squandered my chance to walk with the living.

By the end I just paid him to silence her doubt.
By the end of the raid he sure did sing loud.

we have direct associations of
things long past and no
way to connect random
words. I wonder, then, why I always  think of peanut
butter when someone says winter
or I taste eggs when someone
mentions Christmas. I don't
even celebrate Christmas and
I taste caramel popcorn
and crisp wintermint and
what a cloud would taste
like. why is that? where do
our words go? others would taste fish when they hear
the word tooth
paste, or crave oranges when their feet first
hit pavement. if you're trying to fit the
words together, and see
why the bitter taste of chicory
is reminisced with coppery blood and
love, and you are sure your own word associations are
completely logical, one day you'll come across
the skeletons in closets, the snake slithering in the
greenest grass, things that mean
so little to you yet are bright points
of deep connection. you try to
fit the words together and
suddenly, you'll know. then.

If one day you discovered that you were a cancer to others in your life
That you were toxic and a hazard to the life of others
What would you do?
Is is truly selfish to want to keep going? To continue to be something you were born as? Something you can't control?
Can an existence be selfish?