Climbing the stairs,
Til the water reaches me,
To the attic I retreat,
Til the water reaches me,
clinging tightly to prized possessions,
Til the water reaches me,
unheeded warnings,
Til the water reaches me,
following the surge,
Til the water reaches me,
listening but not hearing,
Til the water reaches me,
Holding tight until the end,
Til the water reaches me,
gulping loud slurps,
When the water reaches me.

Yesterday the world fell off my head and I caved under the weightlessness of my own body

With skin disrobed, I laid out the contents of my skeleton man, base to my eternity 

The two within were once one, now traveling separately down the same road coming undone, gradually

Both heaving and tired, a destination was finally reached - found, inhabited, exhausted - naturally

Consistency in tradeoffs paid in full, bought with soul's heavy gestures - they turned my water

into fog so beautifully

And though my face,
be it smiling,
presents an air of control,
I fear that I have lost it all.

And I brace myself,
for I predict that I will be buried
beneath the rubble,
beneath this teetering construct
that I have haphazardly built in my short,
short,
life.

And I have tried,
I have tried to forget that I built
this homeless house of mine.

And I have thrived,
I have thrived in my ignorance
once upon too many times,

and I shudder at the thought
that the "all" which I am destined to lose,
is really nothing.

Nothing at all.

I woke up to the sounds
of my friend heaving chunks
on the bathroom floor.

I can only imagine that war
is something like that.

grains of sand pass through the glass and wearied i become
flesh is flesh and given time, eventually i'm numb

aged and stale i've bitten off much more than i can chew
but rather than admit this now i veil what i undo

to my dismay i can't escape the heavily stitched seams
for even when i close my eyes i see it in my dreams

so vivid here and brightly lit, just as i once was
the memories of you and i trickle through my blood

love of mine, if i have failed, please know that i still breathe
only by the air you gave and stored inside of me

the sense i make won't measure up to what i can't explain
all the ways you nursed my soul and quieted my pain

to this day, when you walk in - a room - i open mine
the one you've kept inside my chest, so tidy and refined

come again and stay this time, let's fly as we once did
above the ceiling of our hearts like doves that can't be hid

There's some sanity
in these circumstances
that slide through my view:

"Is it possible to live like you?"
He asked without knowing what
he meant, "because I want to know."

She laughed, still hugging a stranger,
"Inside you're very busy, calculating.
Only alone-ness can give true happiness.

Create some silence within,
for silence is love; and where
there is emptiness, love can flow."

"But how can I love so much?"
He spat his snide remark.
"No love can be inexhaustible."

"For me there is no other-ness;
every one is an extension
of my Self." She smiled.

"All the love I give is returned;
every drop taken is returned to the source.
It is inexhaustible because nothing is wasted."