honey sherbets skies
haze in the distance
shouting through the oxygen
covering our faces
ripping our insides
out by our outsides
fifty-two days down
i can't decide
who i'm becoming

the sunset melts like sherbet in the freezer
when the power goes off
suddenly we were never better
sinking and swimming
drowning or staying afloat
to live is to die
to die is, well, who knows

You smelled like a perfume I smelled a few years ago while dancing with the idea of falling in love
We sat in a dim lit corner as our eyes danced across each feature on our faces -
I glanced at your shirt, trying to figure out if you had galaxies resting on your chest
The wave of your hair
relaxed
care free,
but well groomed
as if you'd made sure each piece was laid in a perfect fashion

the curvature of your chin and the shape of your lips put a weight on my chest just looking at them

Your hand reached out and touched my neck,
softer than velvet, smoother than silk -

My jaw clenched and every word I had said to you replayed back in my thoughts,

over
and
over

until you kissed me-

our mouths open as wide as the sky,
a cloud of birds between them,
the entirely of the world opening beneath me
trees rooting into river beds

I lost it for what felt like hours -

and I Iet go of everything I've ever known about love

something about this,
something about you.

I'm not looking anymore.

the Sun is slightly brighter after
the winter solstice
I think it's this way because we start to miss Her

maybe it's the reflection off the snow banks
or the contrast from the blue skies

we take Her for granted most of the time -
then when we can't have Her
our minds wander where She went

I find it's this way with most things,
don't you?

it comes in waves
like free falling, sky diving,
jumping out of a plane

I believe there would be many moments of fear,
followed by the rush of blood to the head
followed by hope

Ive been waiting a long time for that feeling
that sudden moment of clarity -
that feeling I read about in novels and poetry books,
that feeling they talk about in movies
the look in my step fathers eyes when he looks at my mother

the slow build up of understanding
feeling just... right

where will the time go
if it continues to move so slow?

everything is different between the hours of midnight and four AM
mainly from when the sun sets until it rises again

sometimes the world stops spinning for a few unsolicited moments

can you tell a dream from reality
or are you still in denial?

lingering like the smell of a cigarette I smoked two and a half years ago and like the stench of whiskey the day after

I vomited
I am vomiting

its that time of year again
when the clocks fall back
and the darkness creeps through the curtains
I keep them closed a lot
    I don't know if it's cold or not
the sunlight kisses the edge of my bed
I dreamt of a life much greater than this
all the flowers inside of me have wilted
I've forgotten to water them since May
My Grandfather would be disappointed