Three steps
One! Two! Three!
I pushed off
Into the air
Shocked to find
A building or two
Falling beneath me
Momentum gaining
The world began to shrink
Clouds began to kiss my cheeks
I was gone,
                      and I never came back!

Are you happy with yourself,
              When you jot down lies?

Do you smile as your forked tongue,
               Contorts itself putting pen to paper?

Does your reflection haunt you,
                Or are you used to that monster staring back?

Do you fear that once all your sin spills out,
                You will have nothing left to offer?

I walked out into the nothingness,
Lamp lit, with a little lively flame.
Darkness decided to swallow us.
I fueled the lantern, to feed the light.
But as it burned brighter, darkness grew hungrier.

There was an acceptance, to let it be.
I knew that this was the time of darkness.
Extinguishing my flame, I waited for dawn.
I waited and waited, for the midnight black,
To churn into that dark purple hue,
Kindling further into the volatile morning vibrancy.
Such a time never came, as I said
These were Dark Times.

The Land of Light could not, would not
Interlope here, and such a thing was fine.

Democracy is a funny thing
It works for some, but not for all

Lovely when it works for you
When your voice that matters

But a **** shame, when it doesn't
To be at the whim of a majority

A majority who had to vote
Against owning another human being

A majority that said well
Unless you're in prison, then its alright

A majority who said
Being black without a job is a criminal offense

A majority who refused to hire
And who paid next to nothing

A majority who finally agreed for women to vote
Finally an opportunity for them to speak

A majority who said sure minorites you too
But that voice doesn't matter

A majority that makes a the rules
And a minority that has to wait

Wait for a time when its okay
For the majority to give up power

Wait for a time when enough is enough
But until then I'll scream my silent scream

The voiceless will topple towers
And remember it was you who
Silenced them.

His eyes drew back into endless darkness.
The smokey storm of features which raged
Where his face should have been struck lightning
Down my frozen spine, entangled by this sight.

The man peered into me, which his empty gaze.
Black holes which in their plainness, tore away sanity.
I wanted to ask him, I wanted to know, but words lost me.
He laughed a madman's laugh, faceless or not, he smirked.

This devil, came and went, only seeking a name.
He stepped out into the night, a frozen gaze, and into nothing.
A creature haunted, without voice for his destruction.
I know he will return, screaming death until words find him.

The fiend stood before the threshold,
with a wicked gait.

High above the rooftops, with darkness
flowing from his cloak of nightmares.

The claymore cementing his sinister
disposition, neck crooked high.

Rage, his helm, that devilish crown,
slithering all the lies into me.

This throne, my flesh, he claimed again,
the marionette of his madness.

I walk heavy, with the burden of his pain,
swiftly he barrels through the jungle.

Through all the winding and weaving,
destruction has found its home within.

The King, his slave and the broken,
words are whats left to save us.

But he too, has stolen such things away,
for what am I without them.

The Real World,
That is a matter of perspective.

The places I travel each night,
Those are real worlds, all of them.
The entire spectrum of realities
Every vibrant life lived.

This dull world, this emptiness
It is but a mirage, a specter , a shadow.

I walk through this dream,
A captive in a phantom world.

Knowing so much more exist.
But seemingly forever out of reach.

As a child, I was blessed
Light skin, in a white world
I had white friends, white teachers
I had white pastors, white family
That was everything that I knew to be

I had some black friends, a black teacher
I had a black pastor, black family
I saw color, I saw the differences
I saw white friends hating my black friends
I saw white teachers demean black students
I saw white christians leave the black pastor
I saw family both white and black love me just the same.

Hate is taught.
But birds of a feather
Flock together
And I flew with any breeze
That would have me.

With wiser eyes
With years behind me,
I've flown with the gentle stream
A birds eye view of an unchanging world
So I've decided to test the current
To soar with broken wings
Famished dreams
Onwards to freedom

It seems forever and a time ago.
Since I felt, this sinister darkness
Haunt my bones, insidiously ethereal.
Outgrown, and overshadowed but,
Only temporary was the night.

In a search for self, after voiceless screams
Bled their emptiness into any word muttered.
Perhaps, I was fooled into the harmony
That this evil muse had whispered.
Her hast soul shattering tune.

Forewarned in foreshadows, nightmare's gleam.
The stability of my present, was the demise
Of my former. And I fade into the black.
A pale silhouette in the story of character
Marionette to this mutineer.

Dark skies of midday madness,
The world has been painted in darkness.
Moments ago, the carnage of day,
Personification of pride, ran rampant.

Outsmarted, outwitted, outmatched

Pillars of ego fall, as all do, to their knees.
Nature is less forgiving, she has grown bitter.
She batters and bruises, lashing with rage.
But is this not her right, more so her duty.

Clouds pour their thick mist across heavens,
Day light is of a when long forgotten.
Bless this fortune, this humility.
Rise, embrace the turning of tides.

There is no equal to me.
I crave to be flesh
in your weakness, chains
break, as I leak into
deep chasms of your mind.

Suppressed, cynical isolation
True fears pervert
painful truths.
Embrace my existence
as it floods into your body

Every breathe you take in
I chill from the shadows.
Where we know this
sickness, taking over,
has no end.

Offer no escape
as Death makes way
only to accept this
fiendish and violent form.

The finish line is a delusion.
We run the race at our own pace.
Some walk. Some run.
Some crawl. Some quit.
Everyone dies, no one wins.

Suppose there is no other side.
Suppose you just keep going,
Until you don’t.

Is it an uphill battle?
Is it all downhill from here?

A little of both, a lot of neither.
Going, going, gone.

I have been tasked with consripting
Thoughts so wicked and vile, they
Are most certainly unnatural.

The transference from the chaos
Of the mind, to the semipermance
In written word is liberating.

To dive I to my madness one must
Understand, that the sincerest truth
That I have ever known is the deformity
Of self.

Every waking moment has been
A testament to the alienation of my
Own demeanor..but what made it tick?

I told her I was synthetic
A quick rebudle claimed
This was impossible, as
                
      I HAD EMOTIONS

Words have a way with my mind
They weave webs, twist and turn
Unwravelling to their roots
Then winding back into thoughts

I replied,
           How does one have an emotion?
           Are they something to be owned?
           Is it a possession to hold dear?

Anger and hatred can be harbored
In the hearts of the unfulfilled
But sunshine and a smile can,
Send such things fleeting

So to answer the question
Do I have emotion?

I understand the idea
I illustrate them with words
And words you know have emotion
The ink never lets them go.

The raven is my eye in the sky
Swift and stealthy,
She cuts through the clouds
Her song rings in premonitions
Forewarning and foreshadowing
Any luck or omen that might meet me

The wolf and her pack are my ears
Listening for the buzzing in the forest
Striding through the leaves with discipline
She knows by the look in her eyes
By the fierce smile and sharp teeth
That she has my respect, and we are the same.

What is the right ending?

Murders of crows sing
Prophetic tales

An evil man, in righteous body
Waiting eternities, to leave a wake
Of ruins, oracles weaping
The fall of man.

This false world,
Twist apart the flesh
Fighting, torn to pieces
To encapsulate, the intent

Fiendish resonates in the chest
A word, spoken by strangers
Summoning, to their ignorance
The mad king

Howling vibrations grasp
At the walls lining the throat
Where booming echoes
Locate the delusions.

Words, chain the beast.
The maniac cackles,
Taunting in the cells.
Always ready, always waiting.

A sinister plot unfoils
As the masses cheer with glee
Alt-right legion growing , don't want us to be free
A revolution rumbling, justice for the spoils

A sickness is spreading, stomach toils
A warning of words, to open up eyes and see
As hatred feeds on silence, of people who let it be
A witness to the victims, the blood soaked soils

The white sea was vast. In total contradiction,
to all reason, it seemed to dwarf the blue sky below.
Currents of clouds bubbled and spewed, while others tore away in violent serenity.
It was an ocean of heaven's dreams.
The travelers set upon the white, leaving small earth behind.
As they ascended into the clouded sea,
all thoughts of land had escaped them.
Slowly, the pepples and grains which had become markers of memories and time, faded away into some distant place.
The white sea was more than a physical place, it too was like a drug.
It stole away all reason, it lies like a brilliant poison in the body, hidden and lethal.
It was ecstacy and it was death,
but above all else it was beautiful.

I have been driven mad
Looking for the words
That will enevitably set me free
Then I thought of a thing that truly must be

The incantation to break the shackles
Was never owned by me
The secret in the poems
Is that the sacred words are another's

Puzzle boxes writing desperately
Searching high and low
For a solution to their mystery
Only to find the key is a lover

Of ancient words and rhythms
The passion for magic in writing
I know this because I found truth
Within the winding words of another.

I knew a girl once
I liked her even,
but she wasnt so sure
Maybe she liked me
And believed I was pure

See I was a writer and she a poet
My pen stole her heart
Perhaps then she had known it

Each line I wrote, fufilled her fantasies
Illustrating things blind to common folk
Her sweetness grew on me
Even the innocence in her ink

But like I said she wasn't so sure
Was it my fault my feelings didn't conjure
My ego is bold and my writing takes over
Wearing my heart on my sleeve
I think thats what drove her
But then again

Intellectual love, rare to come by
We let it go, and feelings die

Still pondering on our first kiss
Life is fleeting and you will be missed.

I'm haunted by ghosts.
Screaming profanities,
Shattering the barriers of solitude.
Banshees cursing me,
Leading them to the depths,
Of the hell I created.

The blackened pit,
I the tormentor.
Where my eyes pierce
Sweetest fantasy, corrupting innocence.
Filling hearts with dread.

Dreams turned into night mares.
Stampeding insanity,
Like merry-go-rounds
Drilling painful truths into
The painted fictions of hope
That we dream of as children.

I am the madness your heart craves.
And the poison that kills you.

Desperate was the Hand,
To the Fist,
To the Door of Introspection,
To the Mind, to the Darkness.

Pounding, pounding away,
The broken bones,
To the dust of flesh.

A moment before forfeit,
The Great Gate collapses.
Bursting into a torrential tide of Madness,
This scornful swell swam deep into the Heart.
Its suffocating chill, mirroring the growing Dissent,
Resonating all of discord in a living Thought.

Hope's last stand sends deceit fleeing.
Rushing waves, shuttering away,
From the pathetic kindle.
Such a sad flicker, this bastion of salvation.

As with All Things, this too falls.
The Darkness, the Madness,
The Door to all Doors,
Consumes the Light.

Empty vessels, faded light
In the windows of my ghosts.
Floating past, searing memories
Stained into the horizon.

Slow beats, flickering
Motes of consciousness
Briskly stroll behind and around
The broken road.

Vigor torn from husk,
Holding onto false promises.
Haunting, spines chills.
Shivering at the thought.

Fatal words cut deep,
Warming unquenchable desires.
Grab the scythe
Approach the mantle of Death.

So tell me doc
How much time have I got
Before this world overtakes me

I'm asking, I'm shaking
Cause I feel my mind breaking
Lock me up, I'll swallow the pills

But please doc
Throw away the key, overdose me
Ill tell you, these demons won't leave

Mania is like a wave,
High tide, and I'm drowning.
I take on water, feel it fill my lungs.
As the pressure builds, I fade into white.

I'm riding the wave, a ******* tsunami.
But no, that's not quite right,
I'm a part of the wave, this rage,
This powerful force of insanity.

And there lies the shore, closing in.
If I was of right mind, surely,
I would at least hope to cry pardon.
But I'm not, I see the imminent crash,
Only laughing, maniacally.

With thunderous approval the shoreline
Falls, within the vast ocean beneath me.

When the waves pick up,
When they come crashing down,
They ring with power, but mostly pain.

So I'm left in this basin of contamination.
The sewage of mind eats away the euphoria,
Leaving cancerous tumors of depression.
Now growing rampant, and lingering.

The tide in time recedes, the world grieves.
Sometimes there is healing, though often
There is only suffering and the waiting.
Knowing for any better or for worse,
The tug of war between the shores
Of mania and depression, goes on.

Is to be told all the ways you don't matter
It is to be angry and afraid
It is to watch people walk on the opposite side of the street to avoid you
It is to be told to get over slavery
It is to be told that I'm not racist I have black friends
It is to be told the definition of racism like you don't already know
It is to be told hey what about reverse racism
It is to have a white terrorist group dedicated to your elimination
It is to be more worried about threats in your own country and those abroad
It is to wonder daily if your family will be safe, if they will get to come home
It is to called a **** for speaking out against the hate
It is to be called lazy when you work full time to provide for your family
It is to walk past folks and watch as the clench their purse or pockets
It is to be to have people fear you, when you feel more threatened then they ever could
It is to be told that privilege doesn't exist
It is to be told you are equal, except you know that in the courtroom, in the eyes of the law, the job market, the housing market, in the classroom, it is a ****** lie
It is to be live in a world where 1 in 3 black men are in prison
It is to know that they have sentences longer than white counterparts
It is to know they use prison labor to exploit them, slavery living on
It is to know that the police which are a relief for some, are a nightmare for you
It is to know that you can do everything right and be killed by someone sworn to protect you
It is to know that you will be blamed for your death inspite of this
It is to have the life choked out of you and a man telling you, **** your breathe
It is to hear what about black on black crime, even though every race commuts crime against their own kind the most
It is to remember white flight and the repercussions of it
It is to have family who have seen the bloodiness of the covil rights movement
It is to be taught in school how great this country is while ignoring the evil its done
It is to be taught in school how little you meant
It is to wake up every 2 weeks to another hashtag of some poor black fella to be forgot in a week
It is to want to simply be acknowledged that things arent right, and being ignored to this day
It is to be villianized in the media
It is to see that flag everyone holds dear and remember that pain it caused you
It is to fight and die for a country that still doesn't care about you
It is to be told to go back to Africa as if this wasnt stolen land
It is to be told I dont see you as black, you're just the same to me
It is to be told well you don't count as black, you don't act black
It is to have your culture stolen
It is to have value placed on your mysic and style and not your skin
It is to hear what would MLK think about these protest
It is to remember that people celebrated his assassination
It is to remember the slurs and the hate he recieved
It is to have people know they don't want to be treated the way you are
It is to want whats always been denied, the privilege of walking in your own skin without fear of persecution
It is to see family, friends and peers celebrate and share racist ideas and beleifs
It is being reassured they still value you
It is to know but not enough to matter

Being black in America is a lot of things, and I love the country all the same.

But I hope and pray for the day, that we can be treated the same.

Recalling darker days
Hopelessly falling
To the low valleys
Which shaped depression

I remember banging
On the Devils door
Pleading to end this
Undying Nightmare

Thoughts follow
The cruelest of paths
When the light ceases
To touch the soul

The sins of my father
Which long before
Had been repressed
Locked away intentionally

Became the savior
To ill misfortune
An evil to stay
Until dying days

Still whispering
That forked tongue
Persuading a final deed
For I to be, a memory

The daily struggle
Invisible to passersbys
To keep my life
And deny a desire to die

Too often, we wish for things,
which fill us full of regret.

Too often, we become the things,
which fill us full of dread.

Too often, too often,
this nightmare persist,
Too often.

Too often, I am at the mercy
of this madness.

Too often, it swells within my heart,
incapacitating me.

Too often, I lay in feverish pain,
a prisoner of anxiety.

Too often, too often,
I wander into darkness,
Too often.

Too often, I become this awful wretch,
this terror

Too often, I beg,
to be set free.

Too often, and its always,
Too often enough.

The words slide through me.
Disconnected lacking comprehension
Old times rush forward, focused
Shattering into mirrors of memories

Disbelief overwhelms me.
Questioning my every action
Tears stream down my face.
Every moment holding more weight.

We are fragile,
The world dies around us.
We fade into a foolish fantasy
Until the crippling pain of lose
Comes crashing home.

R.I.P. PJ Cleary

a bird born in the city
may not know of the forest.
a bird born within the concrete jungle
may not know, but they share emptiness.

a bird born in the city
may have its belly swell.
a bird born in the crossroads and high towers
may feast forever and never fill.

a bird born in the city
may call it a home.
a bird born amongst alleys and avenues
may sing, but often crows.

a bird born in the city,
flies with wings far from what is known.

I tire of this Patriarchy
The footpaths, The Guidelines
The strict Dogma, The misogynistic guise

I tire of these Sins
The evil manipulation, The father of my fathers
The pleasure of power, The hearts swollen with hate

I tire of this Psychological Harem
The predestination, The pain of letting things go
The image staring back at me, The toxic masculinity

In that moment I knew, that feeling of knowing,
To without any reasonably conclusion,
Have an unyielding sense of where the pieces lie.

And that tasteless grain of alabaster, so profuse
Raining even harder now, the ground a pathetic mixture.
Blood, mud and betrayal.

Two strangers, one in bed with the **** of the world
The other, with an unamused smug, hating the other.
Pausing, the rain stops, checkmate.

For all of an eternity, how does one not know self.
And upon becoming one with filth, why was it so?
In envious conclusion, I sleep, relinquishing control.

He rummages to the forefront, having prepared.
Having mastered this scenario hundreds of time,
So seamlessly did he maneuver.

Casting away the mask of my failure,
To carve forward his dominating force of hand.
This personality, so fiendish but still me.

Signs say stress.
I say the End of the World.

A mental break
Or a fractured world.

The walls of my mind tremor
The world falls apart at the fringe.

Acute stress, prolonged stress.
Acute suffering, prolonged suffering.

Good lord, its the end.
Oh God, the end of times.

I see hints, hidden in plain sight.
This diseased world, is apocalypse bound.

Yet they'll say I'm not mentally sound.
But the world dangles on a string.

******.
Slips out of white lips
I lose my ****.

Blood boils.
I hate the word
It ties my tongue
But, I get it.
Didn't always
But, I get it now

A reclaimation of hate,
Black skin shining
Owning the power of a word.

His spectral stride was not the worst of him.
His stoic face was a flawless slab of stone.
His rending claws slipped idly within his pockets.

As if extensions of his sheathed talons, on either side of the ghoul was a hound of hell.

The beasts could not look more different, save for their crimson eyes which sang of the gallows.

The worst had indeed arrived.
Each patient step glided after the other.
With no word, with no tempo, with no sign.
The dance of grimaced howls and fangs began.

To be tethered to a lover is a dangerous game.
A cord of boundless strength winds deep,
Between the flesh and blood of the heart.

When stress rises in you, so too in I.
When depression grows within one, it becomes two.

And yet happiness too, does bloom.
Though not today, nor anytime soon.

We live on the fringe of happiness, my skinny love.

We live on the promise of maybes or never.

I’d sever the cord, if you could be free.
Though we both know that could never be.

This story has been written.
Now we play the parts.
We suffer in the moment.
We live for tomorrow’s maybe.
Time will liberate us.
So it shall be, so it shall be.

Happiness
Measured from cheek to cheek
One end of my crooked smile to the other
A boisterous intoxicating laugh
A contagious obnoxious laugh
Measured, until it fades away

No laughing these days
No rosey red cheeks
No holding back

Happiness has been crumbled up
Thrown away, tossed aside, spit on
Grinded up, thrown in the muck,
Forgotten, abused, and abandoned

Anger. Honesty. Ambition.

Here they come with the swell
Casting themselves in dangerous waters
The only refuge for the drowning sea of faces

Sadness.
Measured from week to week
One end human suffering to the other
A vicious monopoly of hate
A sickening wildfire of inequality
Measured, until the end of days.

Words do not impress
Weaved web of heavy thoughts
Intertwined with feelings of moments
Trapped in time.

When poetry, tender love
Shattered the seal of darkness on my heart.
Only falling empty on now deaf ears.

Rotting in the pit of my stomach
The sonnet of souls attempting to reach me
Eroding, like the poison of this forked tongue.
Slaying the beauty of life.
I retreat to blank pages.
Uninspired, how I bore of you.

I am walking, with my father.
To what he assumes will be a reconciliation.
I entertain the idea with insincerity.
I'll not walk down that fool's road again.

I see a group of women, a bachelorette party.
One approaches, she asks who will I be for the night.
She says she'll be someone or another.
I think about this, whats the harm in being lost in otherness.
But for the moment I must go, I'm off to a party.

I'm in a stadium, alone at first, then the rows fill.
Friends, loved ones, circled around the stage.
My friend, my brother is next to me, then is front and center.
He announces the celebration, gathering here for a friend.
Its happy, we reminiscence, I embrace it for the moment.
Sadness, I know is on the horizon.

I see it clearly, I know how a story goes.
Another friend, belly full of liquor stumbles home.
He draws a hot bath, as death prepares to takes its grips.
I feel this, I feel him slip, I feel him begin to drown.
I'm coming, but not fast enough, I'll arrive and he'll be dead.

But, there's a chance, through will, I become him.
With every ounce of drunken strength I pull us out of death.
We catch our breath, crawling for the bed, until I arrive in flesh.
There are dogs all over his place, and a hell hound, chained.
He wore a devil's mask and knew me to be a false man.
Just in time, I barge through the door and catch my friend in rest.
Spared for the time being, for doom is coming.

I leave him in his slumber, returning to the darkening skies.
I see a group of fallen youth, a loyal band of thieves.
They run and taunt the night, the disillusion of innocence.
I feel I must warn them, but time and words have escaped me.
Reality sets in, in the form a a car screeching, peeling away.
I know too well whats to come, instinctively, I run.
White light, red-orange fire, kaboom.

I come to, choking on the blackened ash filling the air.
I see charred bodies of those far less lucky than me.
I wonder how I am alive, but I know better, its rotten.
I crawl through the destruction, and try to regain myself.

Months go by, and again and again the bombers come.
At first, I feel they're hunting me, but they must know I live.
That such methods to thwart me are ineffective.
But that mustn't be the case, no it must not be at all.

And in truth I know this, the chase in this direction is obvious.
I realize it the reverse is true,  I am drawn to the chaos.
I go where death is sure to come, even in my undying.
I wake up, with that mystery in mind.
I hate the realism in such dreams.
I hate I will never know why.
I hate that this is the end.

I'm inside my own head
The music is playing

I choke on disappointment
Coughing up shards of glass.
Tasting the crimson truths of unhappiness.
Words won't come, forgotten paths

Shamelessly burning bridges
Beyond the help of tears and fortune.
Reflected monster I've become.
Layers of hate hiding pain.

Let the light in they say.
Darkness swirls around my heart.
Clenching against the violent beats.
No regrets, only anger.

The only tongue I speak is destruction
My pen murders the hopeful
Just as the innocence in me,
Was so carelessly thrown through the muck.

Written words unravel spools of knotted truth
Unbound, I succumb to the overflow of thought
This pen, a fury of violent strokes, lashing lies
Waist deep in the tide of self reflection's revelation

I hold on, desperately, to the obelisk of false odysseys  
Watching words overturn the bastions of ignorance
Caught up, in the undertow, I begin to drown in the sea
Swallowing this sullen reality as I gasp, hopelessly for fallacies

With our own hands
Destiny is sculpted
The passion of youth
Molding a masterpiece

Time is unyeilding
Chipping away the details
The marble soaks in the pain
Cracks trickle chaotically
Death bombards innocence
Worn and weathered

Building dreams of clay
The beauty in life fades
Some find solice in destruction

I am lockbox full of mystery
I embrace that every second

People come, inviting themselves in
Fumbling with their key ring
Ever so set to open me up.

People go, out the door with harsh words
Offended that I dared to guard myself
Always so angry in the end.

I want to spill out, to share my words
I want to fill your fantasies with mine

But the time it takes, is not for everyone
Don't go steal my secrets and end up on the run

I've got weeds
They slipped through!

My thick skin.
****.

I feel seeds
And they're  growing
Sprouting
Words of hate
Growing
In my chest

Beating, screaming
Ba da ba da ba da

I've gotta tend to
This garden of mine

Your opression
Will not
Leave hate
In my Sanctuary

I pour a cold one down my throat
To subdue the rage, or perhaps anxiety
Underlying and insidious.
Though more likely to swallow, with it
Regret. The small things, and the large.

I suppose it does not really matter,
Regarding to relevancy. But I drink,
I write and then I reminisce.
The past, her lips, and the discussions.
Yet, never quite feeling able enough
To be. Vulnerability, it escapes me.

And as one memory passes onto another,
Never does it become anything less
Than meaningful. Each moment
Shining as a star to define the
Indefiniteness which both calls to me,
And more accurately eludes all
That I wish to be.

Im happiest with you.
The passion for change,
Good natured eyes melt
Resistance to intimate longings.

Of course, these words aren't spoken.
Written so that I'm free.
To explain I'm broken,
Fighting this world in a mask,
That is not my own.
You accept without knowing,
But I run away with my pieces,
Trying to put myself together,
Isolated, in my habitat of
Pushing you away, mixed signals
Hurting you like always.

Read these words, know I'm sorry.
I am an arrogant fool,
Pride prevents this fantasy
From seeping into reality.
I cannot get around you.  
Carve me into something beautiful.
Take these shattered remnants
Of my anatomy and make it
Art.

The sparkle in your eye,
steals my heart immediately.
I find myself in front of you,
Speaking without thinking.
Words flowing, you laugh.

This is when I think your heart
was stolen by me.

Love is curious, I'm warm.
Saturated in this hot and heavy
mysterious wonder.
You watch my lips, following
with no break. Captivated
by my innocent views.
Of a world that we don't live in,
a perfect world. Were we all
were actually happy.

This is not reality. My love,
walked me out into the night
holds me close, piercing me
with truth. Innocence spills from
my chest, soaking the concrete.

The empty space inside, filling
with the product of love.
HATE. The world, peaceful,
full of dreams, shattered
into pieces I could not pick up.
Nightmares invade my eyes.
Only its now that I see,
its no fantasy, just painful
and real.

The stream played thick and heavy,
      in the red dawn, of the darkest night.
Tree-lines aghast in the kindling,
      of the Summer Solstice fires.
Upon the sunrise, on the banks among the foliage,
      time tracks into the overgrown trails.
In a deliberate folly, the seasons pass
      as the blended wood, welcomes unwavering change.
Lead back, to dusk, the crisp inviting hum
      of running water, and only a moment has passed.

If I was a tree.
Which stood tall.
A monument to life.
Strong, gentle, and kind.
Wind would gently kiss my leaves.

I would be a prison.
A desolate grove of death.
Roots drunk with toxicity.
Trunk twisted, etched in profanity.
Just barren branches of thorns.