If you refuse
To be a drop
You can't become
A deep sea
Also,
If you aren't lost
You won't be found

Hand in Hand.

Your hands were the first thing I loved.
Chapped by harsh times
We held them clasped together till the life was choked out of us
Hands embraced around feelings and hormones.
Clasped so tightly we took a blind leap over the cliffs of loneliness
The landing is always rough but I still miss their warmth.
Hand in hand hearts entangled then broken apart by the tie loosened.
Still the sweet sweatiness of time and love embraced by a firm
grasp of wanting to be comforted.
And maybe held close in a digital embrace.
Hands so warm at first, cooled by time and impact
Still memories of them remain
Chapped but integral to a thing that was true then apocryphal.


-Fin.

A primary source of pain is the truth,
though the truth shall set you free.
An addiction beyond recognition,
there is something dark deep inside me.

Inanimate white evil,
has stolen he who is I.
My soul needs cleansing,
Am I close to where I die?

With knowledge comes wisdom,
and wisdom is beneficial.
But knowledge of this darkness,
The last thing I am is superficial.

Reality is no longer near,
As my sinuses fail to clear.
The darkness was formed by choice,
And to die is what I fear.

As the lights rapidly flicker,
While my mind starts to shut down.
Like a married couple who bickers,
There is no peace,
In my own blood I will drown.

The light calmly dims,
The rhythm of the monitor straightens,
And a continuous beeping noise trims,
The sound of silence in the room.

In the name of the father, the son and the holy ghost,
Whoever snorted the fastest got the most.
But was it an escape from reality?
Or reality escaping from me,
I am now forever gone,
But the darkness will linger over my family.

The thing is the love
   of your life can make
mistakes and break your
      heart and you lose them
     because they lose you and
your heart breaks all over again
I am deep inside a collection of streets
                  and blank signs somewhere
I've never been before.
              In different times I just want to
     do different things
and right here
                                                holding hands with the clocks,

            I just want to find my way home.

I will bake you a raspberry creme cannoli
if you bite my earlobes nimbly;
I dream your skin tastes of
lemon.

Woman ****** fuzz does not puzzle me,
but stumps  men near and far.

They claim hair is best on Bonobos;
I view that a lesser stance.