If you are not recovering you are dying
A phrase I have taken to heart
Tattooed on every bone of this skeleton inside of me
Despite its harshness, it's beyond true
If you are not recovering you are dying
Naturally, it didn’t offend me until I learned it was supposed to
I often sit and think of you for hours on hours
Wasting my time, as most people do on thinking of those they love who do not love them in return
It is the bittersweet past time of humans
Coffee shops are stained with more than coffee stains
I wonder how many chairs I've sat in that held someone else broken off of the ground
I wonder how many salt water lakes I have walked over when approaching the barista
My coffee burns my tongue
But no other feeling lingers worse on my mouth than the feeling of your lips
I have taken understanding that love does not mind giving scars
Remorse was never it's best attribute to conscience
We must know that in the midst of something wonderful chaos is making blueprints
Planning attack like a predator that has not eaten for days due to the winter
Nutrients to keep it alive have been hiding in trees and under snow
It is the middle of December and I ache for nothing more than your warmth
No amount of coats and sweaters can comfort me like your arms
Wrapped around me like a Christmas present
My coffee burns my tongue
But the flame of his words pressed against my skin
I do not love you anymore
Does not amount to the physical distress my body undergoes
My coffee burns my tongue
And I have not eaten because I am too full of a love
How strange it is to feel so empty but so unable to consume
Like a vase with no flowers
I am waiting for something beautiful to offer me meaning
And though waiting is not deemed to be the worst
The hands of my clock are leaving bruises on my wrist
My coffee burns my tongue
But in a few hours, it will heal
And I will taste cold coffee as the heater in my car warms my hands
If you are not recovering, you are dying
And at this point, I fear I will not see tomorrow
The dew on my window will not meet the ashes from my cigarette
Tomorrow I will not make it out of bed
Tomorrow I will not go downstairs and make coffee
It will not burn me
Cause I fear I will already have burned out

There is no contentment in my life, save only those small fires that burn fantasies into my sleep. When I lay down immediate into my troubled rest or a nest of night-heartbeats, life fades away from the palace of my imaginings in life. There are worlds so obviously preferred here.

If so, then dream away dear mystic and feast on your sleep!

Lovely escape back into the silver satin folds of nocturnal slumber. My dazzling light-blue ocean rolls memories off the crest of sharp waves.

Once ago a time perfect and not only mine but
ours! A love designing sublime rebellion shined!
Days when our kisses held the potential for
avalanches do you recall a faint trembling sign?

The years away from us but that integrity still
inside! A search for those who breathe romantic enterprise!
Nights when smiles meet in agreement toward
best planning the adventure in each other’s eyes!

The conveyance of the mind , carrying you to the previously unknown ..
To the seas of Europa , the mountains of Mars ..
Open your eyes to the wonders of creation , release the moorings of your imagination...Nature provides the vehicle to attain the light , freedom to escape the limits of our physical being , cross conventional parameters and expectations minus fear nor hesitation ..Disregard ancient rituals , seek the teachings of every religion ..
Take a powerful work of art , free your mind as if opening a well remembered door ...
Transform music into pulses of light , telegraph our universal neighbors throughout the night ..
Let your personal reflection relay the image of great peace and meditative bliss .. Retain , relay these gifts through song and poetry without end* ...