'Acting like everything
is okay
when it isn't
creates a certain craziness,'
says Beetle, crouching
on the wooden  slat porch
to pick up half a cigarette.
'Because you are all
survivors,'
she goes on, 'so you
push people away
so they don't find out.'
Find out what,
I ask myself.
Find out me,
is I think the answer.
Because the question
behind the question
as always
is
could you  
love me?

A little perspective
Goes a long way
When the difference between
Perceived pain
And actual pain
Is the difference between
A kiss that must end
And a relationship ended.

Love is no abstract thing defined by the constraints of the clock.
Gaining meaning with time.
Gaining power with days.
Gaining strength in years.

Love is no fashion trend or folly of the bored.
It is not cool.
It is not a hobby.
It is not a “just because.”

It is the soft whisper of breath that sends shivers down the spine;
Warmth to the soul.
It dances on skin
Like a child tiptoeing through a meadow.

It is the joy that accompanies the moments apart.
The feeling of peace.
The sudden grin.
The daydream of bliss.

Love should be measured in beautiful moments.
In kisses.
In smiles.
In happiness.

Caged.  
No air.
Just the rhythm
Of a pounding heart
In my throat.
Pressing  
Pushing
Pressure.
Silent power
Waiting to expel.

Anticipation.

The fear and the pain
Unbearable.
Cold bars, contain.
I wait.
Yearning, hoping.
Foolish.
Perhaps corruption.  
Deterioration.
Break out.
Break free.

I let the World Get Inside Me
It came once and never again
It made me bleed my past and remember my future
It made me understand that my reality is not my own

I let the World Get Inside Me
It held me tight and told me lies
It held me back, pulled out my eyes

But now an Angel has come
My own, my first
No longer can the world get inside me
No longer do I have the thirst

And after today,
We will just become,
Another box of locked away memories,
I never wanted us to be.

I am afraid to tell
people that I have
no friends, because
I am afraid to lose
them too.