You bear a mask of pain,
placed by a smiling face,

have given your arm to he
who proposed no harm,

and signed your back
with the name of that being,

who,

now seeing through your new
eyes,

finally realize,
bears that dagger not for protection,
but for *******
of your soul,

perpetration of it's defenestration,
you are nothing but his,
but is, but its,
but id,
a bottle of wildfire without it's cap,
that he puts his lips to and slams back,

There is no saving, there is no turning back,
you are his signature,
you are his cat.

Forgiving yourself,
sometimes is letting go,

Letting go,
sometimes means not caring anymore,

Not caring anymore,
sometimes feels like pain,

Sometimes pain,
is pain,

Sometimes pain,
is being sorry,

Sometimes pain.
is having no more,

and sometimes,

missing,
can lead you to the floor,
can lead you to a door,
can make you skip the number four,
have you eat food you abhor,

Sometimes,
it's all just saying,
there's no time for sometime,

but really

someone in the song,
is from some time you adore
.

I'm not a fan of the sun anymore,
you start to learn new ways,
to deepen the underscore,
and the tone goes away,
every time you score,

it doesn't seem so bad anymore,
lying on the floor,
or staying in some sunny field,
where sunlight is all you feel,
and wanting to leave,
but staying in the field,

I can't see so bad anymore,
even the darkness seems to soar,
now, I'm finally knocking on that scary door,
with a little window,
with nothing to see,

The phone doesn't ring anymore,
it's lying on the floor,
in a field,
boiling from sunlight,
through a window,
where darkness is sunlight,
where I soar, trapped in the starlight.

Fell apart,
I'm the start,
call me stark,
in the dark,
but don't stop kissing,

it's my heart,
and my mouth,
and my eyes,
and yours too,
they are, and we,

build a fort,
draw a stick
that is short,
make it past,
what couldn't last,

but then you pressed abort.

There's a light I cannot see, outside,
hanging above the building I call home,
Where I am disposed, deposed of dream,

I am sullen, and consider not eating,
I don't think I am here, when you are not,
I feel I am there, eternally trapped,

It's like my thoughts want me to stop breathing,
because they're so heavy,
and I wonder,
if my heart,
stopped beating,

and you called and called and called,
and wondered and sought,
and fought the feeling,
that I left,
not bleeding,
but in a car with no heart,
but the one in your chest beating,

Hope that I'm in the place of our meeting,
that he's there too, and comes first when you call,
that there's a beautiful field and whatever you are dreaming,
I hope, and maybe you do too.

What to say in darkness,
hearing her spilling,
revering a thing she fears she is stealing,
can't believe in herself,
can't be too revealing,
seeking hurt as a replacement for dealing,
anything but the monotony
of the knife,
commonplace disasters not worth telling,
Outside in the sun selling,
the tolls of the soul,
to minutes that bleed into hours
licking the envelope shut has become sour,
and the light,
is reminiscent of a damning scent,
of pain, that sang, now eternally convalescent,
Rested among the years,
immaterial as the fears,
knocking at my doorstep, ripping the floorboards that make my bed,

Ask me the color of my thoughts, I'll say red,
find me there beside the seamstress,
watching her spin her dread,
gazing as she weaves herself dead,
preaching to  the fire in my head,
apologies being on what this beast is fed,

The soul could not be,
if it's entirely bled,
the soul cannot be if it is entirely bled,
wise words of the fallen,
are not here,
but with the fallen,
and so this song is only dread.

How to tell you,
this isn't the place for him anymore,
I love em too,

But I have to go cold, for you
to be free and
I don't want him to see it,

Strum your fingers on the way up,
you can accomplish great things,
and he's always right there if you need him,

pictures have us crying,
to let go of the last,
and I do, and keep him safe for you,

For you, are the whole thing,
For what a single tear to keep,
let it be joy and seep in all you two do,

Just don't forget, I know he's not strong enough for that
yet,
but who knows what you'll make em,
this is just where things begin!

Strum it up,
and up,
and all the way to the end.

Tired of believing in me,
it's  a new level to the dark,

I'll fall down the stairs if somehow it helps you,

Walk past my bones and do not even suffer
to look at me for even a second,

I will be the frown,
if it'll make you smile for miles,

Step on my grave if it'll take you to heaven,
I'm not cryin,

Step on my soul,
I'm not feelin,

I think I'm a man now, and a bad one too,
trying to think of the cards I'm dealing,
but I'm afraid I'm not thinkin anymore,

I think I don't have hands now,
or eyes,
but I know I'm here,

In this big room, in a much smaller room,
in a much smaller tomb,
in pursuit of an everlasting soon,

I don't want to say,
or see, or be
a thing,

but I do want to help you,
see how the sun feels,

Be like the distance you see,
when it feels like life says,
here's to you.

A gorgeous vine, stood before a man,
but this is not a flower, he murmured,
overworked for many hours,

He cursed, seething his suffocating dower,
at this plant that dared mock the flowers,
to its place he should return it,

His hateful heart sought to burn it where it stood,
but he understood, to truly wound is to leave a mark,
so he gnarled his face and gathered his phlegm,

spat,
down upon this comely green being that wasn't his friend,
and watched himself drip past the superimposed grin,

and in this plant that wasn't bleeding, he was brought chagrin,
and kicked,
and kicked it's leaves over,
and over,
again,

To the midnight,
and dusk,
this song, to sing and fall over, eternally once again,
the callous man's rage, the empty man's grin,

To that, a farewell.

The music from the soul,
once again taking it's toll,
until it comes to a boil,
and from the head it's stolen,

Pieced together for your sake,
truly for my own, to assure,
I don't break,
or stake my entire seeing on something fake,

Let me, fester and wound,
myself into a lake,
allow me the decency
of breathing while I say,

I am alive, you are too,
so let us love one another,
until we are blue,
and after too,
when our bones don't hurt to break,
when to burn our soul
no toll takes,
when our heads are given as a keepsake,
when you can use my arms as stakes,

I assure you, wounded and forlorn,
from a forgotten, unremarkable place
I love you.

I'm writing to you, the only way I know how to,
entirely bare, naked, in the entirety of my soul,
attempting to sing, where no words or touch may reach you,
to be like a moonlight that with its glance can kiss,
and cover, your eyes and lips, and make even your clothes
sensitive to bliss,

To call you darling, is to say you are dear,
but if between our eyes it's so early, if we have yet to even begin,
how can I paint you the future I surmise,
past it being a simple painting, one among the hundreds
other fingers have colored, I want to have your heart panting,
I want you to feel the dark breaking,

Make no mistake, this is not about saving,
you are not a weak thing but a powerful one,
you are not seen, rather, I devour you entirely,
every inch and ounce, all that you are,
even if it kills me,

I take us as mark, a marker with which to draw,
to a slow stuttering drawl, the hours full of stark
meaningless pain, that the beauty of life has sworn to seal,
away forever, with just playing,
smile, because love is a truth, and from life's kind eyes
it is vibrating.

You are the emanation of a knife finally tucked away,
to give you my life, would be holding back,
all that I will give, was never mine to give back.

not too much for the words,
some of us it hurts to have around,

let us be fair, and imagine ourselves treading the ground,
how desolate, would we be proud?

I suppose we've saved many flowers,
perhaps that will grant us a few more hours,

you can smile, if I can too,
did you also say your favorite color was blue?

take what we were given,
perhaps it's not undue,
maybe another time we were malicious,
and that vine has sprouted me and you,
let us take with pride our sad hue,

call me defeated, but I was never gonna be the winner,
I will always put all my points in you,

sincerely, sincere, and meant to be slain,
once again, by you.

Please don't look at me,
we're all mirrors, after all,

I'll be sad but still come when you call,
even pebbles with become my all,

Call it sadness, like I do,
when the only thing you see is you,
looking back at you, looking back at you,

Just like the melody of a fall,
with windows that make you merry,
and so they make you dreary,

You're uninvited, and not invited,
and lovingly unrequited,
smile as you try to hide it,

Just look away, if you wonder what I'm asking,
ultimately, in my world, that is all.

In the dark,
Smoke pushed to it's farthest extent,
the limit of last resistance,

Coalesce to a final convalesce,
gather just to break again,

The footsteps no longer sound like friends,
the stairway seems like the backdrop to pain,

With no one around, and just the sad music of the brain,
perhaps a strange entity would figure you were praying,

A love letter to disengaging,
an answer to eternal berating.

In the dark, like a presence that is waiting,
as if presents were there hiding,
a warning letter to what you are finding,
hurtful songs beautiful as piano keys.

Precise as wanting. imprecise as finding,
pleasure in the clouds, and just waving,
to be found, and have been waiting,

In the dark, you found a way to the write the ending.

The most beautiful, here to eat my head,
the sweetest, to **** me from the inside,
eyes, lips, interstices, prompting my demise

Such sultry animates, constricting and twisting,
into revolting figureheads, sore splinters in the scenic
graveyard of serene, lush, hesitation

dying fruits of thriving vegetation,
feasting on me,
preying on me,
hands clasped, fingers crossed,
sweat within my palms,

What lies were told in our daily psalms,
we've been guided into their claws with promises of alms,
begging to kiss the predator's lips with such comely balms,

Curses couldn't make me shudder more,
than this being the truth,

I am a mouse, and beauty a betraying bruise.

A glistening droplet, a jewel like shape, belonging
to the queen of the cosmos overarching every universe,
listening, intently, even along joy and hurt,

her only delicate dance, supernally bloomed,
entirely unrehearsed, shedding tears during the worst,
filigree, and the ultimate chorus.

Starlike, starry-eyed, music,
fantastic, impetus, a muse to me,
used to be, music to me,

Stellar, almost completed,
for our sakes,
a comet by the lake,

oh...midnight,
you've always won the fight,
....such a beautiful sight.

Something from the fire,
something just to know,
if I'm a liar, lord take my throat,

There's something just about her,
and how she chooses to know,
and how she holds a fire without letting it go,

Dresses made of sunlight and proses of rose,
feelings like a won fight and dances of our nose,
To live is to meet her, to die is to let go,

and when I think about her, I swear I truly know,
how love becomes a fire and not just thoughts we hold,
and I'm impervious to liars because with her is where I go.

The truest of all the colors seems to be the blues,
so shall I lie and refuse to speak of the sky,

Karma calling on behalf of Klarna,
chuckle because time can't go back, but it can smile,

Pay stubs from nineteen ninety-you-and-me,
money in the currency of the soul,

Percussion, playing concussion by
long drawl and forgotten words,

Tigers pretending to draw,
tigers, pretending to draw,

lasers pointed at the sky,
and no one is impressed and no one is coming,

A head bob with the life that is dying.
jam out. Fade out.

howling, and it's all black outside, except, of course, the street lights,

a box to be untouched, because you can't hear or see what's in here,

I'll give everything to make you leave with nothing,

I am secondary to the love of my life,

we'll watch eclipses under romantic ellipses,

Welled up tears won't pour, and ambient noise won't be the score,

It'll be a silent painting, hung by ones that scream and

hung will it be in the finality of satisfied artistry

Bet and lose it all

It's all the same night, except for the background of getting worse,
I don't need to be understood,
but I don't want to end up in a hearse,
keep the period away, grant me further ellipses,
allow me to dream of her eyes, and how her lips kiss,

I've set the bar low, is what they say,
and allowed myself to **** off the feeling of dismay,
cannot see that I am burned while loving the sun's hottest rays,
sun bathing in an urn, keeping peace rather than being betrayed,
burnt to a crisp being the secret to bewray,

Midnight is the moon, and classic reverie,
a wishing and wanting like a fountain,
washing in my ears like an ocean I need not fear,
but it's quiet, when your company is only dead things,
grasping for life until you remember its sting,

Ultimately alchemical, and unfinished,
varnished by an unseeming finish,
fingers snapping at the air with no supernal intervention,
no cosmic charade or visual parade,
it just, ironically, ends.

Eyes closed,
bam,
It's like October,
a festival of candy

Witches and the hunt for red skies,
the fullest of moons,
gobbling up the goblins prancing by,
oh, as sweet as kissing on a swing

That hat, wide as the world,
feeding our fat porch cat,
we were graced from the depths of lack,
and now smiling seems to be our knack

the trick was the treat, and now there's no going back.

Getting close is the best I've done,
and even then, it was still a distant run,

through the showers and floor being undone,
in the midst of shadows and a mist that spoke of fun,

they all say there's nothing there,
nothing to hold on to,
for that I am sorry,
but my apology is about being me,

the mean of hope and a fate disagreeing,
with instruments strumming,
for a thing unclear to be,
what's staring back at both of us,
I'll just smile,

for what is left, just further into this mess,
the same to drink,
and a wish from the same genie,

hoping for more coping,
not believing in the dystopian,
while living it in a chorus of chords now broken,

making music out of the screech,
twiddling fingers as if I'm playing,
but I'm laying dead on the stage,

and, at this point, it's worth it,
even underneath not a single petal,
to be seen.

The last one
keeps being the hardest,
like if somehow this night
were the darkest

but I'm smiling,
I'm singing,
aren't we happy

I guess, it's just a mess,
and I must be wrong,
could you really let go

because I really couldn't
not for a lifetime and the next
and now
when I think, I dream

it's all just you and me.

It's a feeling,
that ends underneath the eyes,
and I couldn't tell you its beginning,
but ultimately it's called crying

kind of like skin that's torn,
maybe what you imagine,
if you picture a wooden shack,
pillaged, strewn about,
now make it beloved,
it's grandma's, or love
however you shape it

the teardrops seem to have only one way,
but don't dismiss them
they are varied

some come buried,
others help you drown,
some accompanied by a sound,
some fill the town, and others follow
only a silent frown

but you can smile too, when those dastardly things
are coming down.

Blessings to this shovel,
all praises to the sheen of a stolen thing,
having no place but the soul's face,
seated in my one seat,
minuscule in comparison,
to the finality of this grand thing,
the dirt and me,
begging for the killing,
a sunlight that's finally singin
a target worth stingin
how can the hum and buzz ultimately be
a hymn to a thing that couldn't be,
what tears are you talking about,
they are what make me,
and so I call out, and you shout back,
a dearest is what this must be.

You're twisted
again
Likeminded to the she devil
you promised you'd never be

Said we'd sit in the sun and swing,
but you talk me into it alone,
with no around

you command,
you magnify, everything till it's blue,

my angel, angling to have me dangle,
Like a fish

When the skin is pierced,
at that point,
your finger,
breaking past the ring,
like a midnight petal of drear,
to be called my dear.

To be called,
be near,
when everywhere you steer,
my dearest like a demon at my behest,
what about all the flowers,
are they not all a sum of hours.

Characters at loves command,
answering the sweetest beckoning,
now sullen and deafening,
at the rate of this infernal pounding,
a resounding no,
for the sake of your own rejection.

A mental machination,
the result of a twisted imagination,
is my last hope,
to deny that you are the bold face of fear,
the candle is the only thing alive here.

Smell the daisies,
walk down that little path,
where a smile flashed whenever i passed,

sun shining in a way,
where words can only say,
how dare you take it all away,

I knew it was the last,
smile of our dog,
running so playfully,

even though you called, and said the bed had room for me,
and he seemed sick, but my optimism didn't let me believe,
and so i didn't leave, and asked he live another week,

alone, at night, you heard the fight,
I should have been near to smite their light,
but our kitten was lost, to whom we were a light,
wandering and lost, on a random night,

Astray because of me, and he,
fading and trembling, searching for you and me,
and lost his fight, and it was the day,
but it felt like night,

I'm sorry is all I can say,
and my optimism keeps me in this way,
a shell of hope fighting against dismay.

Got nothing left,
telling me what to be and do,
and you've left a mess,
and the shattered me is true

a mirror with burns,
a knife next to an urn,
pictures folded up neatly,
a frown too buried to come out

my eyes are closed now,
I'm listening,
I'm tired,
I'm missing.

I'm writing to you from in-between the last page,
it's descendant and the spine, of the world
a typist creates, and a writer imagines in his soul,
where the former has an unknown bearing and suffers
no toll.

I displaced your thoughts not because I could,
nor because I understood, I did it because I am reckless,
I did it in poetry's place, because to call you in prose
could never satiate what the composer proposed.

Madman before mad men, pitchforks and fires in angry homes,
where they begin, before their machines of sin,
I am the well of the unwell, I fought for, before, and tore,
your kin.

Candles, courting beauty as her dress trails the heaven
before the floor, grace in a body, undressed for us mad men.

I don't read,
because you took my eyes,
with well thought lies,
you dug at my heart like something you despise,

Darling, I could have called, you
underneath the blood you hated and so spewed,
darling, my darling, my blood curdling darling,

Can you see me, or hear me,
am I still breathing, I think
I am thinking, and maybe I am smiling,

Thought I'd take you for miles,
or walk them endlessly,
but the dirt and six feet is in what you envelope me,

Final letters written without a care,
I see your back, and I am either dead,
or I stare.

I promise I won't let go...
I know there's things at our throat,
and our backs don't have much further to go,

It looks like there's cliffs waiting for us,
I don't think things will be good for us again,
but if you told me infinity was at my back,
I'd press forward to the never coming end

It's kinda like drowning, or having emotions poured into your head,
kinda like hypno glasses spiraling in reverse,
releasing feelings into things we don't comprehend,
basically it hurts.

Tell me it's a dream, like back then,
when
covered in sweat, I realized you were right next to me,
I could sigh,
and not believe, I had relief,
from this life,
just hearing you breathe.

and now I look back, to my greed,
when I couldn't read, how your stars aligned,
to the beauty it was, that we'd even meet,
before a park, before a quiet street,
in front of a beautiful field, with your warmth to feel.

How could it be me,
I know I said thank you,
and even then, I begged you'd never leave,
but these fires started with footsteps that lead to me.

Fingers, are they not rays of sunshine,
or at least so delicate,
your finest lover, if her or his were crushed?
is it not so much more a travesty?

These simple vines, strumming until they're embedded,
beating with a soft but forceful start,
all for the finality of a drop,
that begins where the heart stops.

a goodbye to eyes, an eternal recess from the light,
you **** the chorus in our minds,
hoping that either one of us finds,
you again.

I got one for you,
it is my tale,
the tail of a demon or dragon, I'd like to fancy,
probably something much more benign like a squirrel,
dare I say he's fierce and fancy,

Perhaps a monocle in the eye,
and style that grazes the periphery of glancing eyes,

Has a bold tree, with bold and brash leaves,
belonging in the heights of glory,
with a halo atop,
of course the rising sun's glowing, naturally,

Fun for the sake of it, life,
but a break of it,

Rifts waving from underneath your pits,
right there in the heart, have we all equipped,
the same care to stop and fidget, to play against
the rules of the play, without saying I quit.

The clock is ticking,
the realization is what hurts the most,
I can fly through the seconds,
glide past the minutes,
scratch through every waking moment,
and yet, it is looking at it that draws any blood,

My hands, I see you cracking,
under the pressure of merely existing,
all these words, coming from us millions bored,
consequences of living, both sublime and repugnant,
subliminal and explicit, corroding towards the same distance,

Snap, twang, click, slap,
exploding, all to the same foreboding,
shadows and dark notes,
singing down the same halls,
crying to loves of different names and different faces,
all for the same tears and tears.

Trying to teach you that can't is a broken spell,
a collection of words smothered in a fist,
deprived of touching can, before its magic had its knell,

The progenitors of these phrases drown in its graces,
they become the it of their own undoing,
husband and wife to guttural utterances,

Cloaked is the mirror with a window on full display,
smiling through your reflection, praying through convection,
seeking the angel's wings buried in the ground,

It's all dirt beneath their lips,
give them a spear they fancy it a fork,
a hook for their purposes,

There is no can't besides what is in there eyes,

There is no can't and above the bird flies,

There is no can't and here we find ourselves in our minds,

The law to them is of designs,
the life is what they inscribe,
there is no can't, but they can't.

I won't know until it's that way, that it will ultimately be,
some call these lines vapid, and ultimately that's what they'll be,

Smoke or vapor, hard drugs or paperwork, smiles or kisses,
lies or tales of false blisses, perhaps a wise story to gain a misses,

fingernails or the rope, both burn and can end hope,
one cries, the other won't even know,

ducks flying by, quack, quack, quack,
such a silly think can be such a needed crack,

***, drugs, and euphemisms,
The mister with a pen revealed a quack,

A trench coat full of waddly things,
administering precisely what it's like it seems,

care to mind only the seamstress, with thousand lake eyes,
and a beauty like you've never seen, pay only to her your mind.

Tricks of the trade,
when nothingness becomes something bold,
like that last number a paper did fold,
so you call and call,
playing a tone through all the halls,
and bridges falling down,
and houses no one has found,
in the midst of filled place people call a town,
with no air that doesn't walk brisk,
no stories sharing besides with a fist,
oh, how we see the things we wish to seed,
misery makes a mess and not just of me,
history is the best when it isn't your story,
or when you have a place that isn't this stormy,
and you're looking back and proud to hear his story,
of how he met her on some rainy day, and pain and clouds,
isn't the only thing she took away, because ultimately she gave,
and it's a perfect trial, fair and just, harmonious and without grave,
so she calls and he answers her name, until one gives, and steps,
past their hallway into yet another loving place, their bedroom,
their headroom totally unbetrayed by anything except play
loving the quarters and the pennies others throw away,
stopping never and only ever desiring to say, I,
my dearest, love you, and I swear I'll stay,
and it goes without saying, this
could never have been amiss
and I will never miss you
and I beat for you
and I for you
for you
everything.

So tell me sunshine,
how do you need to see,
that the weeds and the grass ain't just for me,

let me gaze past the fields,
and maybe baby,
there's a sunlight that can make me be,

everything that we ever will need,
darling the clouds are blue and the sky
is a sea, thinking about you as I
dream of we.

hold my hand, give me the sand,
ain't no reason to count what no one can,
that's how long I'll be doing this dance,
kiss me like no other can.

maybe we'll find, a fine of the land,
buried before us in this torturous
landscape before us, but
we already did, can you see what your smile did for us.

you're the sunrise, and I take with me,
a last letter that forever I can read,
in your eyes looking at mine,
there's no end, just our sun to rise again.

The time of your life, on repeat,
call it a sign of the times, a timely blessing,
a clock that seemed to run on by.

Oh, sweet darling,
what is it about you that I'm missing,
could it be the kisses, hugs,
seeing your eyes from above.

Might I miss just catching the gist,
of a longwinded poem, I barely missed,
focused on a screen, or in my mind,
while your prose outstretched it's vine.

Maybe it's something about following behind,
seeing the sun capture your mind,
glisten off your skin, because only I knew your sins,
or that I loved and never needed to remind.

Everyday, I call you,
and saw you, and hoped for you,
in someone like your kind, in image, breath,
or just your way of being kind.

Everything, is what I miss, my poetess, divine.

blue mold splattered on the wall,
darkness inundating like dust,

a soft white light painting the scene,
the closest thing to serene,
and yet so far away and faint,

Purgatory, immobility, a throne made of the floor,
seated, seething, seeding on their knees,
the shadows are alive, they are beings,

baptized in the black ocean,
where roars drown the waves,

their fingertips almost succeeding,
poking at the watery grave,

wearing a waterous veil,
proceeded by their monstrous screams.

It is silence, and cold is all you feel,
when you're drenched inside it,
and your pain has become steel.

Still and stoic, stunned, momentarily,
for the sake of not wanting to tarry,
though her eyes are starry
I suppose I am chasing the fiery,
like a proper torture puppet,
where pleasure is purely measured by the sounds she makes,
and I,
a pain filled pie,
promising to encapsulate a well packaged bespoke mind,
tailored to her tail and devilish wings,
let my crown be one that stings, if so she esteems,

roar and drag my nails against the sheets,
across the bedroom floor and into conspiracy,
teeming in a way that they would deem, simplified and undignified,
while you dig your nails in and I dream of your teeth,
do everything and all without leaving nothing undone unto me,

my promise is not to bawl, except of joy, that I'd devolve for the sake of your destitute ball. Trampling and fancying my fencing fall,
hearing me enamored through the halls, because I am what she esteems, and nothing is as it seems, unless she sees it fit,
and I throw her a romantic fit.

Go on, capture yourself capturing me, witness how it is that a rose falls, into a flower garden with no mystery to solve, for the only way is up, and the field is filled and sunlit. Might you say there's nothing to wit, just decadence to not be absolved but played with.

Your fire, I acquit.

body, we've been given these pale wings,
they are not meant for flight,

mind, we are drunken without drinking,
tread carefully lest we fall down the flight,

bones, at home alone,
seeking where to run,

muscles, outside and alone,
hobbling, as we can no longer run,

heart, drinking blood, but what are you thinking,
inside me but outside it is raining,
your means of becoming undone,

soul, how are you keeping,
the unraveling from meaning we are done.

Darkness ensues,
like a cape,
and I it's benevolent captor.

She falls in love with me,
not because she is captured,
but because I see her at all.

In this world of light,
he's given all but a fight,
as simply it's being,
is a war of night.

Fall from the skies,
beam like you never could,
black butterfly, only misunderstood,
I see you.

I hear the call,
your words are of light,
rest easy, for the world will not find us,
for now we are all but the night.

Empty, ether incomparable,
wavy, seemingly separable.

Explosive though minimal,
corrosive and liminal.

Space saying schtick,
beauty and wings together stick.

Like unalike jewels,
Emeralds so gorgeous they'll make you sick.

With yourself, for fear,
of never getting near, the magic.

Like you used to say it,
bottleless lightning and you wish to stay it.

Singing desires, stinging like spires,
endless abyss, like a crowded mire.

Set them on fire, see if they catch.

Wist a gist in a kiss, see if will latch.

To the fields I retire,
I'm in love but also tired.

I'm so worried about everyone else dying,
and yet I'm the one who's going.

The door is at my neck and I'm still talking,
saying prayers while I'm being layered
with everything worse than anything cancerous.

My heart seems to ask questions,
wondering whose chance this is.

Speaking of the golden rule like I'm not buried
in gym socks and thoughts of second chances.

Fancy myself some kind of mancer,
hoping I start myself going,
stop myself from slowing.

I dreamt of you and woke up to go hug my mother,
I'm tired now, and moments ago me feels like another.

Staying still but rocking back and forth,
it's like a sway and fear what it has to say.

Maybe I'm lost, or finding myself in my own lost ways.
I don't know, and neither do you, I suppose,
is the best we can say.

I hear music in my soul, everywhere it explodes,
it's like the air gains form, like a musical note,
vibrations where nothing is there.

And I stop to say, words, love,
unspeakable things, just feeling in a way,
that it stings while the mouth sings.

and I lose it in lust, and have this feeling,
like a desire, like a must,
intertwined in bees, and beautiful scenes.

Elevating the snails for the sake of making it,
unbeknownst, breaking it, taking it,
everywhere, like a curse.

you've got some lead in your pencil,
don't be afraid to draw with a stencil,
no matter the word or vibe,
just look and remember,
you are a titan,
fearless and mighty.

Enjoy the daylight, the walks you love,
grass is just grass and yet you're in love,
with the fields and flowers,
windows you know nothing about,
smile at the hours.

Pretend you have powers, run
like lightning, strike, the wind,
beat the villain you are fighting.

Rulers, scissors, that smell,
you won't be able to describe,
so take it all in!
picture yourself being an ancient scribe.

Learn about the polymaths and aspire to be like them,
or one of the million other dreams that might never end.
just don't drive too fast, just don't want it to ever end,
please just comprehend!

love, loves you back, without doing a thing,
it doesn't fight you back, if you chose the wrong song to sing,
so if you wish your heart, where the birds be,
find love without a start, and an impossible ending,
take it from me, love doesn't take a thing.