the ones who chase the sunset
the ones who dream of dreaming on abandoned mattresses
the ones who never sleep
the ones who find homes in the passenger seat
the ones with endless wanderlust and bare feet
the ones who travel with journals on their sleeves
the ones with open minds and prying hands
the ones who finally learned how to speak
the ones with golden tongues and opalescent teeth
the ones with glowing green lights in their eyes
the ones with ticklish knees and bruised thighs
the ones with unheard symphonies in their eardrums
the ones who grow with the trees and bloom like chrysanthemums
the ones with ideas too big for the small town scene
the ones who perform silent spoken word for their television screens
the ones bubbling with spontaneity and sentimentality
the ones with broken dreamcatchers, lightbulbs, and families
the ones who are captivated by constellations and insanity
the ones who make snow angels on mountain peaks
the ones with freckles, curly hair, and rosy cheeks
and the one with olive skin and emerald split ends
the ones with tracing thumbs and laureled limbs
the ones who have taken each others flaws in
wrapped them in silk and blocked out the bitter wind
the ones who weave orbs with moth wings
the ones who still buzz with bee stings
the ones with the power and voodoo
the ones who don't think like you do
the earth, the fire, the water, the air
the ones who can't help but to stop and stare
the misfit poets;
the ones who dare to care.

She saw the box and her heart did flutter,
Her fingers fumbled and her conscience muttered.
The clasp undid, the lid lifted free,
And oh the horrors the world would now see.
The rivers were dried and famine did reap,
So many a soul there were none left to weep.

She lay on the floor and she cried and she shuddered,
For she was to blame, only her and no other.
The gods fury was that of which she most feared,
They would take all she loved and **** all she reared.
Distraught and sobbing on the floor of that room,
A notion of peace interrupted her doom,
From the box it emerged and the darkness then broke,
For last but not least the world would have hope.

I enjoy distance
Long drives with no destination
Music blaring,  miles growing

I enjoy distance
Long walks to nowhere
The peace calms my restless soul

I enjoy distance
Little steps each day
Away from difficult situations

I enjoy distance
Between people and places
And me

I enjoy distance
It gives perspective
Emancipation

I enjoy distance
I also enjoy coming home
When distance has run its course

Mother warned me not to fall for girls who turn their
bodies into a trick of light whenever you are with them.
“Careful with the pretty ones,” she would say. Smiles that can
launch a thousand ships and start civil wars were never any good.
“Be a lover, not a muse,” she would say. Careful of the girls
who love what you bring but never love who you are.
“The devil was an angel once,” she would say. He was pretty eyes
with an angelic voice and temptation in it's purest form.
Oh how mother knows best; how I never learned.
-V

The further the distance
The more I desire
Your cold winters lips
Upon my hot summers fire