What is it that you want most in your life, as it follows a very distinct path?
Do you want to fly? Play sports? Sustain a career? Or perhaps spend the rest of your life with that very special one you love?
Does he treat you well?
Does he love you with mirrored intensity?
……………………………
Are You Sure?
……………………………
Take a look into my graphite eyes,
Do you believe it?
I do-
It’s up to you to decide where you’re headed in this short living,
You can follow me,
Or steer your own life on autopilot,
I can guide you,
I can love you,
Can you love me the way I love you?
…………………………
Are You Sure?
…………………………
Take a moment to envision a life without the One that you love,
How is it?
Can you honestly believe that you will be with him forever?
I believe it,
Do you?
Look into his eyes and glance into your future,
Is he present?
I am here,
And you are right beside me,
Loving me- right?
…………………………
Are You Sure?
…………………………
Don’t cry,
I’ll be here forever,
Cherishing you, loving you, caring for you,
Believe me when I say that we are going to be together for eternity,
Look into my eyes,
Do you see what I see?
I can see what you see,
But can you look into my pupils and say that you love me with the look I am receiving at this moment?
…………………………
Are You Sure?
…………………………
Take a breath and smell the air,
Do you smell the passion?
I do-
I can tell you that you love him, even if you can never seem to let him go,
You want to let it all out, but you’re afraid of what he will think,
Don’t worry,
Let it out baby,
He won’t mind because he loves you,
I love you,
Do you love me enough to show me your past?
…………………………
Are You Sure?
…………………………
Don’t leave,
Stay here in my arms forever,
Let me hold you the way you should be held,
Do you feel the warmth of my love?
I love you,
I know you, to me, the same,
I know with all of my beating heart,
You Are Sure.
…………………………

The tip of a stallion’s tail paints the ripened walls of a Victorian Manor,
Edging the corners of each windowpane, there exists a glimpse of childhood glamour, sealed with stain glass paper mache-

Drowning in liquid blush.                 Watering flowers on canvas.
                      Sketch skies from scratch.                    Moisture in the rough wood.                                    
      Shading lips of an awning.                       Leaking dissolved gutters.        

Bleeding innocence for public eyes- Reviving youth in summer coded tapestries,
Such a beautiful residence, unique in design with romantically crafted shutters,
The exterior emulates ecstatic dreams, composed by the tropical contents within,
The interior imitates indigo seams, stitched by a face in the
Shadows,
Clouds,
Steam,
Dust,
And,
Me,
I

This spacious mansion reveals rippled reflections of imagination, as she melts peacefully in the Spring rain, and dries most comparable to running mascara,

A seasonal attraction is morphed into the portrait of a generation- Striving to follow a receding path across forgotten rainbows,

The Universe orbits in the mist with the presence of-
Water Colors & Oil Pastels,
Telling A Story,
Forever.

I’m Up! I’m Up!
…………………
The pink rag, soaked in ice cold water flops onto my capsulated face,
Caught in between the colorful alligator whom follows me in the darkness and a temperature guage, set to a boiling point of some sort.
I’m Awake! I’m Awake!
…………………...
The grown imitation of me is dragging the arctic rug across my crusted sockets of sight,
I arise with immediate surprise,
My head cranks left- right-
A man’s best friend shaking a seizure to feel warm and dry,
I visualize the bottom of my mattress laying quiet and still above my head,
The coffee beans brew the smell of one more morning to begin the dilation of rested lungs,
Get Up! Get Up!
The executioner of rested thought is a parasite to my inability to exercise- Worm-like movements of some algorithm-
Off with his head!
The king of my heart screams as the comforter slides off of my immobile flesh and the residue from my eyes attracts plenty of oxygen,
Drifting off, I again visualize that slumbered alligator, whom is chasing my dreams into the Rubbermaid playground,
The creature sways in my knightly moat as I taunt the teeth of a smirk so envious- Opposable stumps we tag as a thumbs up,
Ten minutes with this shadowed beast is all I need to chomp down on prey that only exists in the wild jungle of the morrow,
Splash! Splash!
  ………………

Stuck in the middle of three familiar faces,
Trapped in the core of colorless thought,
To exist, the gal must eliminate the beauty of sharp autumn leaves,
Dropping back into bland flakes of an aged trees dead skin,
One must paint- alive- velvet streaks of rebellion,
Forget the Past,
To grow, this gal must soil the seed with warm fingers,
Pop the pressure and allow the lungs to lay low,
Consider the movements of an ink-blotted splatter, as space in a frozen lake,
Remember the little girl they use to pamper,
Free the chained doll and give life to a blackened heart,
Forget the Future,
Blossom the flower, soon to be in the fullest bloom,
The sun rises twice for the one who speaks romantically,
Entertain elders with a new generation of enthusiasm,
Be the woman whom creatively ponders as a mature adolescent,
Grab hold of the most valued gift you desire and expand from those branches…

****** suspicious schemes,
Right or wrong, I see past all communication into extreme expansions of a negative mindset,
Scarlet buttons compressed with Indian shaded tint, through mistaken pigment,
Veins pumping overtime with boiled fumes of something condensing,
You’re running out of immediate clockwork when days brew skyward and panic appears to be tempting your envious iris,
Behind the machinery are the blueprints,
Directed only towards agitated agony and sour sorrow,
Illuminated by locked doors-
I ask you- as the reader- the listener-
See passed my memories and create room for visions of a tangible imagination and leg-pumping adrenaline,
Needle infested wrenches lock arms with the absent intelligence of conscious deprived brain flow,
I see you peaking around my duct and depict an abstract view of confused, focused eyeliner,
Slick and plentiful dew drops linger between a plugged safeguarded build,
You’re running out of precious seconds as Antoine Fisher burns free the story behind a smearing disguise of gratitude,
Amen to the present and many men for this lopsided track record,
I’ve got a key witness in my pocket, along with images of what I lived for, before mistakes took flight,
Continue on with your heart, as nothing more than a stranger in a cauliflower society where I erase the painted tapestries,
Beware of the ticking, as I await my calendar to run dry,
Prepare your own stopwatch and click on the rolling minutes my old friend,
I hate everything you represent,
Everything you expose to the previously tainted atmosphere,
But mainly, everything you have coming home from war,
Tick…tick…tick…