I love you–
I want to trace

the outline of your body

With my lips

And finger tips

I want to hold you close

Never let go

All this love

I need to show

How much time

Do we have left?

How many secrets have we kept?

I love you.

I'm in a haunted place before
Many problems that easily cuts me to the core
All I know is to cry
I prison myself because I'm scared for another try.

All I've got is a massive darkness
I can't even find the door of happiness
But He truly loves me
Because two lads knocked to rescue me.

I learned that if someone locked me in the room of darkness
There's always a window to get a shade of brightness
All I have now is possivity in my life
That with His plan, I know Im safe because of His Son.

Rain go away
come out and play
in the beautiful rain
all day, all day(:

Love,
I fear
Is lost with me
Through eyes dark as coal
and crows
I left a piece of my
Humble heart
The core of all I could have been
There could only be two
The quiet
Whispering
Devil
And the broken bodied prince
I lost them
I lost them both
And I fear
I will never love again

I need a soul stronger than mine
Not to save me
But to hold the other end of the rope
To watch me walk it
To be the goal
The end
The finish

I take a walk into the parkour graveyard,
looking for Polish dealers and cellphone halos.
I heard Thoth resides in sobriety,
but words fail me
whenever you are near.

I let my tongue run in endless stutters,
disguising 'I love you' as some off-hand request.
I could take you to dinner,
I could show you a longing
without the need for ***.

This late-night food has lost its flavour.
This ******* never picked up.
All that is left is to dial these numbers,
and wait by the window
for any car but yours.

Let's take a walk to the railway bridge.
We'll smoke a joint by the open forest.
You'll push your breath into mine,
make me high,
and forget why I ever
felt so low.

College is a cancer clinic.
At this university, you either live long enough to die,
or die until you want to live.
Kids drag backpacks like bags of morphine,
and are attached to their planners like they are their heart monitors.
You do your own chemotherapy,
as you poison yourself with debt,
and Friday night nickel shots.

She said people were seasons,
and when I first met her, I couldn't agree more.  
After getting to know her, I wished that I didn't.
Her ex-lovers were Winter, and her eyes were a shade of Spring.
I could see the vulnerability of a car crash
swimming in each fountain trapped behind her emeralds.
She was beautiful in the way that could cause suicides,
and fix spider-webbed windshields after each collision of,
“Are you okay,” and, “I’m fine; I promise.”

Every story was Winter, and she was always left alone in the snow.
Mauve lips mouthed words that silently whispered,
"When is this too much? When are you going to leave?"

People are patterns,
and all she knew was the tessellation of temporary love and permanent loss.
Her hands trembled as she looked down.
She was in transit; moving after each hope of home fell apart.
And I wanted to kiss her like the world was falling apart.