I’ve got a fire starter in my hand,
foreign notions that I don’t understand,
living in outer space but still on land.
You own every inch of my mind,
every spot has a part of you in it you’ll find,
and your smile that always makes me blind.
Baby I’m addicted to you and you know it
it’s so painfully obvious how much I show it,
I pray everyday and night that I don’t blow it.

You could be the best thing that ever happened to me,
honestly, who am I kidding, you are and we both agree.
You’re all I’ve ever wanted and you’re all I’ve ever needed,
and you deserve to be flaunted, no one could compete; they’re all defeated.

I have nothing if I don’t have you,
I’ve promised the words so I’ll make them true,
there’s nothing in this world for you I would not do.
My breath isn’t the only thing away you take,
you’re human perfection lacking any mistake,
named with the sea but eyes deep like a lake.

You could be the best thing that ever happened to me,
honestly, who am I kidding, you’ve taken away my misery.
You’re all I’ve ever wanted and you’re all I’ve ever needed,
and when you were gone I felt so haunted and all light had been depleted.

You can have my remains-
they’re yours, everything that’s left.
Darling you pump through my veins
and you’re in my every breath
I think about you when awake
just as much when I’m asleep.
A pattern I promise not to break,
but I can’t cross my heart ‘cause it’s yours to keep.

You could be the best thing that ever happened to me,
honestly, who am I kidding, you’ve always been my destiny.
You’re all I’ve ever wanted and you’re all I’ve ever needed,
and now that I finally got this I swear you’ll never be mistreated.

She’s always been the apple of my eye,
once on a branch far too high.
Both the sun and moon within my sky,
I’ll love her until the day I die.

When she walks on me she walks without shoes
and when she puzzles me she still gives me clues.
She takes my blacks and makes them blues,
but does she have as much as me to lose?
And in every life will it be me she’ll still choose?

She’s my everything and more;
the only one I scribble these silly poems for.
Almost in my blood, she’s in me to my core,
the only one I could ever adore.

When she talks to me she talks without game,
each word she says is soft, I love the way she says my name,
it’s nothing noticeable but noticeably not the same.
She sets me ablaze from a simple flame,
a breath of air that I wished for came.

It’s something that no one could understand
and each day it only seems to grow.
I could cut off and sever each hand,
and still not manage to ever let go.
I wake up and cherish every single day,
and I’m thankful for each past and coming year.
My love I could never drift away;
I was always meant to be here.

Congratulations on your victory
it’s a shame the blood got on your clothes,
but each blade and pin you stick in me
will stain each and every thread anyone sews.
I hope that you are feeling proud
that you still have the power to wound,
as you want it known and shouted loud
“look at another thing I successfully ruined”

Go on and paint me as the villain,
just make sure that you’ve shaded well.
Every inch of the canvas is filled in,
express that story and scene that you wish to tell.
I’m not going to beg for mercy,
I’m not going to call you a hack.
I’m just sorry you see the worst in me,
if I was a mirror I’d be reflecting it back.

Well done on your gigantic win
I know the scene isn’t set exactly right,
ignore the blood, the guts and the skin,
we’ll have it cleaned by tomorrow’s first light.
Continue to embrace your golden moment,
though you didn’t have to work too hard.
Good fortune and a carefully picked opponent;
one who was already stressed and scarred.

Go on, cast me as an antagonist
but make it believable in each line.
Illustrate my hand holding a demand list,
but my other one has a white flag hidden behind.
I’m not going to plead for forgiveness
and I’m not searching for approval,
because when something is as vicious as this sickness
it’s a quick call for it’s removal.

This isn’t an invasion
it takes two sides to fight a war,
and you’ve given every clear indication
this is what you’ve been waiting for.
We don’t need bullets or guns,
we don’t need forces in the air or sea,
‘cause we’ve both got our mouths, and our tongues,
and a lot of repressed ancient history.

Some people listen to hear,
and some listen to respond.

Some people talk to be heard,
and some talk because they can’t stand the silence.

I had a conversation with the devil
off the books; it wasn’t recorded,
the correspondence was something to revel
but it can never be reported.
We sat across from eachother at perfect level
but I still felt small and distorted.
In his presence I was disheveled
but I wasn’t the one who was sordid,
it appears he intended me as a vessel,
viewing it as I had been rewarded.

I had demons on each side
striking a bargain over my shoulder,
the heat in the room magnified;
I started to smoke and smolder.
Then they began to attack my pride
while reminding that I’m getting older.
I couldn’t run nor hide
as their weight began to feel like a boulder.
Their evil grins stretched wide
freezing me in place; my soul grew colder.

The third course had arrived
a pound of flesh disguised as an entree,
and I was very quickly advised 

to be mindful of what I say.
As though I found it deprived
it would be wise not to give that away.
I knew the victim hadn’t survived,
and my stomach turned at the hue of grey.
They asked if I had been baptized
and if I did, how frequently did I pray.

The devil licked his lips
and he whisked his wine,
more aggressive became his sips
as he frequently eyed mine.
Providing helpful quips
like the year, saying it was divine,
and dolling out some tips
one being that it was rude to decline.
He told me that he held all the chips
and that I only had a vine,
and he was determined to have me in his grips
regardless of the strength of my spine.

I finally came to the conclusion
that it was my turn to speak,
but amongst great confusion
I made no sound, not even a squeak.
It had to be part of his illusion,
I refused to feel so weak.
He implanted the delusion
but each word began to leak,
and with each pull and each extrusion
I voiced of the havocs he would wreak.

He asked if he could reply
as he was just misunderstood,
and though I knew it a lie
I told him that he could.
So he began to fake cry;
swore his potential to be good,
while pointing up to the sky
blaming his flaws on childhood.
A story I knew better than to buy
paired with an excuse that I never would.

Now dessert, finally at the brink,
anxiously waiting to get up, away I’ll slink.
He told me not every soul is equal no matter what I think,
and the apple is poison but I should try the drink.
Held up the worlds suffering and made sure I didn’t blink
and said “you can fall deeper even while you sink.”
But the conversation was done, I realized I’d been hoodwinked.
He just grew in size, I was never the one to shrink.

I got up and I rung the bell,
announcing we were done, no need to dwell.
Extending my hand out to meet his cold shell,
I was no longer under anyone’s spell.
He bought my false thanks, as far as I can tell,
and I informed him he should return to his cell.
Meeting his eyes I pushed to wish him well,
I may not believe in Heaven but I have seen Hell.

I’m sleeping tied in knots,
I’m waking up still yawning;
it’s just become too much.
I’ve been multiplying my shots
looking for an ounce of calming,
but it can be hard to walk, without a crutch.

The stars are looking bleak
I’ve been busy living on the ceiling,
and prodding at my skin
as it’s become numb to all feeling.
And It’s always latest at night
when your head finds a light,
and your mind takes flight
then you gain blinding sight.

I’m sleeping with clenched fists,
and I assume with clenched teeth;
it’s just become this routine.
Body and soul contorts and twists,
layered both above and lying beneath
it’s the most flexible and restrained, I think I’ve ever been.

I had plans for this time,
but they’re reduced down to “oh well,”
begrudgingly accept that this is fine,
maybe dress it up with a “this is swell.”
I might never again see the light
but I’ll adapt to living in the the dark,
evolve, survive; flight or fight
I’ll be nocturnal existing in the park.

Victory has a hundred fathers
but it’s true defeat is an orphan.
The little things that no one bothers,
can be the greatest gifts; overflowing with endorphins.

Can you tell me where to find the bright side?
Apparently it holds all of the answers.
to cure the sickness that plagues my mind;
the worst but least lethal of all the cancers.

I’m counting the minutes
and I’m stacking the week,
and the intensity in it;
so insanely heavy I just can’t speak.
When will these thoughts diminish?
It’s growing stronger, it’s turning bleak.
The floors will shine and shimmer with wax and finish,
but it will never ever silence the creak.
The floorboards inevitably became weak.

You’re six feet tall and more feet apart
from anyone you claim to be close to.
Struggling to breathe and a defunct heart,
in denial of prophecy; inevitably it came true.

You didn’t even pretend you ever cared for me,
we both know we’re not the ones you wanted to see.
If only you could realize what was important in life,
maybe you wouldn’t face the close in strife.
If only you could realize what this was all about,
maybe your funeral wouldn’t be cardboard cut outs.
In your last breath of air,
was there regret or despair?

It’s the ones that you don’t peg for depth
that seem to never be fully understood.
I’ve watched how easily they’ve wept,
and immediately reverted back to wood.

You didn’t even pretend you ever cared for me,
couldn’t care less; we’re supposed to be family.
If only you could realize what was important in life,
then you wouldn’t have replaced your kids and wife.
If only you could look back on all those years,
maybe you’d hold your kids instead of your beers.

No invite for dining with the dead,
no faking pleasantries unpleasantly.
Breaking promises along with the bread,
and never present even presently.
No invite for dining with the dead,
ignoring a mess while eating messily.
Smelling copper while tasting lead,
feeling separated both separately.

In your last breath of air,
did you notice we weren’t there?
In your last breath of air,
did you start to care?

No invite for dining with the dead,
no faking pleasantries unpleasantly.
Ignoring last call and ignoring bed,
my mental exhaustion is kicking in mentally.
No invite for dining with the dead,
ignoring a mess while eating messily.
The scene will remain within my head,
and my refusal to be desperate has grown desperately.

Lying in your arms,
the light bouncing off your skin.
Pressing snooze on all my alarms,
Baby, we should be sleeping in.
Only you can gift the sun
and together we bask in the rain.
You’re naturally my only one,
you effortlessly exist and heal all my pain.

I wish to free up more space
for you; forever in my mind,
‘cause it’s such a messy place,
I don’t want you ever to be confined.
I want to write calligraphy on your skin,
illustrate every word I want to write for you.
Sail my fingertips up, down, around, out and in,
and on your gentle curves I’ll follow the map I drew.

You’ve got the eyes of the stars,
and your lips; as crucial as the air.
Combined warmth of the Sun and Mars,
and a heart of gold, but more valuable and more rare.
Only you can make a void gleam,
I’ve never loved anyone as I love you.
Darling, you’ve always been my dream,
and God, did my dream come true.

I wish to free up more space
for you; forever in my mind,
to memorize each feature of your face,
a more beautiful sight you’ll never find.
I want to write calligraphy on your skin,
illustrate every word I want to write for you,
and when I finish, again I’ll begin,
‘cause each and every time it still feels new.

Her sparkling shooting star eyes
stripped and read down to my soul,
I wonder how did she find a prize,
in what once felt like an engulfing hole?
Our thoughts meet eachother
and dance up in that invisible air.
Just us two, never another,
and I am already waiting there.

I wish to free up more space
for you; forever in my mind.
Any other thought feels like a waste,
another view and I might aswell be blind.
I want to write calligraphy on your skin,
illustrate every word I want to write for you.
Trail my fingertips to trace, caress, drag and spin,
deciphering each inch, fibre and clue.

I’ve got a journey to make
and I have a soul to feed.
I don’t know which path to take,
but I’ll walk on even when my feet bleed.
The backdrop of my surrounding
blends and blurs to a perfect grey,
out of breath and my heart is pounding,
when I arrive I just hope I can stay.

Life is not one single race
don’t expel your energy just to run,
but always find something to chase
as tomorrow is promised to no one.

I’ve got a journey to make
and I have a soul to feed.
Climb up hill or dragged by the lake,
no way of knowing where each will lead.
I didn’t come with a map or a plan
and I don’t hold any bags of tricks,
just the argument of a straw man,
determined to cross the River of Styx.

Life is not one single race,
just when you end, another has begun.
So strive to finish, disregard what you place,
as tomorrow is promised to no one.

I’ve got a journey to make
and I have a soul to feed.
With a sense of dread I can’t shake,
doubt and worry sure like to breed.
If I was lost would I even know?
And if I did, would I admit it?
I’ll be carried by the wind’s blow,
but she’s always been my path, no one could split it.

Life is not one single race,
it’s crucial to always find the fun.
You’ll learn to lose, but lose with grace,
still tomorrow is promised to no one.

I’ve got a journey to make
and I have a soul to feed.
To this point I have yet to break,
in-fact I found and planted a seed.
Gifted another soul to share the skies,
now I know warmth and feel that all’s okay,
and the breathless beauty that shines in my eyes
reassured me without a doubt, this is the right way.

Life is not one single race,
it’s enjoying each second under the sun.
Sharing your heart, mind, soul and space
and my tomorrow is promised to only one.

I walked into that room and saw you’re body lying there,
I barely recognized you; lacking life, muscle and hair.
I looked into your open eyes like I never did before,
and spoke looking at your face instead of averting gaze to floor.
If they asked me to identify or claim, I can’t say that I could,
I never truly knew you or felt the connection that I should.
You were given the curse of cancer,
but gifted the knowledge and time,
but did you ever even think that the answer
could be to reach out your hand to mine?
I had so much I never said,
maybe you had the same.
I’ll remain running the sentences in my head,
but never question if I should feel blame.
For a child to not know a parent is easy as night and day,
as much as I should’ve known you, you should’ve known me the same way.
Now my sister and I are the only ones here,
the only ones with your name and blood,
and it shouldn’t even be a question or fear
if we were ever truly loved.

I claimed gravity was overrated,
lately I’d rather be up than down.
Pros and cons, comparisons, versus and debated,
anchored; I do not see shackles I feel a crown.

And we are two balloons
floating high towards the sky.
Spending endless afternoons
lightly touching to electrify.
You know there isn’t one single thing
that could make me float astray,
but I’ll still ask you to hold tight to my string,
because I don’t want to drift away.

We sent declarations in the pale moon light,
trading out sentiments with each cycle and phase.
I’d agree with the statement of beauty but it was you in my sight,
and I was admiring the skin I craved to graze.

Like Don McLean, I love you so,
but the magnitude I don’t believe you’re sure,
and you must know that I’d never go,
as life before you was a series of emptiness; one giant blur.
This with you, I much prefer.

And we are two connecting minds
weaving and completing each thought.
Volunteering for finger traps and binds,
to be intertwined and fitting into eachothers slot.
You know there isn’t one single thing,
that would ever keep me at bay,
as the peace and happiness you bring,
beside you is where I’m meant to lay.

And I stared into her deep warm eyes,
I’ve lost count it must’ve been for the millionth time.
I compared each shade speckle to the starry skies,
exclaiming no shock to how they still outshine.
I told her “if you want to see my heart,
I’ll break it right open for you.
Tear and pick each piece apart,
present it like a pomegranate fruit.”

And we are two corresponding souls,
drifting on a current towards eachother.
Each and every person played their roles,
to reassure us there could never be another.
You know there isn’t one single thing,
that could ever drag me away,
you’re the first warm day of spring
I was always meant to stay.

No one could ever dream to have you beat
in self destruction, self pity and defeat,
it’s almost bittersweet.
But you get by, it’s you not I,
you get by with a plan to only die.
Yes you get by, with any chance to cry,
never noticing another’s sigh.

You know with all the licks you’ve been taking,
we’re both surprised that you’re still waking.
Oh and with the hits you’ll keep taking,
don’t be surprised that you’re still shaking.

Let’s get straight to the root of the problem,
slam our heads together; we’ll forget if not solve them.
So what’s your story you’ve got for me today?

I am no stranger to your sad tales,
though you push them right off the rails,
and my own attempt is exempt and always fails,
I’d have better luck pitching them as sales.
As you’d get by, just for a high,
only to try with your plan to die.
Yes you get by, it’s always you not I,
claiming life’s got you in it’s eye.

You know with all the kicks you’ve been taking,
it’s a wonder you’re still not breaking.
Oh and all the tricks you’ve been making,
are you shocked we think you’re faking?

Let’s get straight to the root of the problem,
you act the saint and cast I as the goblin.
So what’s your story, exaggerated allegory, today?
Let’s cut right to the root of the issue,
my hands are full but do you need a tissue?
I’ll say sorry, just ignore me and what I have to say.

So open up the bursting flood gate
direct the flow to where I seem to wait,
it’s truly my ears that suffer the most,
I abandoned thought not my post, though I now am late.
But you get by, and still yet defy
magnify on your plans to die.
You’ll always get by, call it a lie,
focusing on rain ignoring you’re dry.

Oh with all the trips you’ve been taking,
It’s no surprise you’ve been strongly flaking.
And with the drips and the lies that have been caking,
you can’t comprehend anyone else aching.

So let’s get straight to the root of the problem,
I’ll start a list and another separate column.
So what’s your story, for attention or glory today?
Let’s cut right to the root of the issue,
hands on your neck and checking your wrist too,
it’s mandatory and obligatory, but morally grey.

I like the way that you sing
when you think that I’m not listening,
and it’s amazing the smile you can bring,
when you do even the simplest thing.

Go on and put my heart under arrest,
and proceed with each Miranda right;
at the trial I will plead no contest,
I’m guilty of thinking of you every day and night.
No need for a jury to resolute,
as each line upon my suit,
will be the love I profess just finally brought to light.

It’s just you,
and what you do to me.
You turn the sky blue
and keep the sun shining.
I thought I couldn’t do a thing
but true love’s always lingering.
It’s just you,
you’re all that I see.

I wish to write poetry for you but I forgot my pen,
but no paper for my hands or tongue so you’re body’s perfect to lend.
Up and down I’ll write “I love you” in lines,
at very least a hundred times,
over and over again making you contort, shake and bend.

We’ve been saving the best for last
but it’s nowhere near the end,
and while time is now moving so fast
do you remember when it was the furthest from a friend?
Some measure it by slipping sands,
but sometimes matters must be forced by hands,
to correct actions of the past,
and heal wounds that couldn’t mend.

It’s just you,
and what you do to me.
You provide each foot a shoe
and hold me up walking.
I was choosing to be by myself
than fake this with someone else.
It’s just you, naturally.

My love;
you’ve told me you wish
to curl up inside my brain
and live amongst its thoughts.

But,
I am utterly convinced
that you constructed it as if
it were the great Pyramids,
and my thoughts as company;
would just be
a million copies of you.

Let your mind slip for tonight
forget who and where we are,
alter the wrongs to make them right
return to the sky each faded star.
We could succeed in changing time
turn a foe to trusted friend,
is it even really a crime
to repair what was never meant to bend?

Even when the sun forgets to rise
you’ll be there lighting up the skies,
hypnotized by the galaxy in your eyes.
And if the world can no longer turn
you’ll see that the fire continues to burn,
and learn that there’s no need for concern.
You’ll know you’re irreplaceable.

This is just part of who we are,
we couldn’t escape it if we tried,
and even when you’re so very far
you still know I’m by your side.
It’ll be like this forever,
no matter what we do,
things change just like the weather
but never me and you.

Even when the sun forgets to rise
you’ll be there lighting up the skies,
it’s both beautiful and tragic how fast time flies.
And if the world can no longer turn
you’ll see that the fire continues to burn,
you were worth the wait and necessary to earn,
you should know, you’re irreplaceable.

And I carefully watch the constellations,
that take form within her deep eyes.
A million blank pages of declarations,
impossible for me to ever summarize.
I measure love from ground to mars,
and how I’ve never felt so complete,
but it spans all across the stars,
the same space where our souls meet.

Even when the sun forgets to rise
you’ll be there lighting up the skies,
you’re the one exception to every rule, none applies.
And if the world can no longer turn
you’ll see that the fire continues to burn,
you’re all I want, I long for and yearn,
you’ve always been irreplaceable.

You slowly run down my spine
and I’m sure you’re draining all of the fluid.
And how I think about you all of the time,
my God, if you only knew it.
While only in fleeting view,
you know my heart’s roads always lead to Rome,
and my love meeting and being with you
was just like finally coming home.

I need to ask this question,
I beg for you to answer it true,
please bring about heavy confession,
that you think of me as much as I think of you.
As my eyes only see you,
they burn with such scorching heat,
and they change from green, brown and blue,
the hues battle and they compete.

City streets and hardwood floors,
when my heart beats, each beat is yours.
Silent night and the darkest skies,
I drink in the perfect sight before
my eyes.
Each days that passes through,
three sixty-five takes its toll,
I just want to know you
I just want to see your soul.

You didn’t ask but you received my hand;
writers cramped and splattered with ink.
I’ve got this devotion I wear like a brand,
and you’re the only thought I think.
And if you should ever lose your sight and detection,
I will guide you through the dark,
any bruise, blemish or believed “imperfection”
I see only as a beauty mark.

Stretched out on my sheets and in my pores,
when my heart beats, each beat is yours.
Shining light and my personal sunrise,
I drink in the perfect sight before my eyes
Each moment feels brand new,
one step closer to our ultimate goal,
I just want to know you
I just want to see your soul.

Electricity now coursing in my veins
and galaxies stretched out upon my skin.
I wished to merge instead of changing lanes,
so thank you darling for letting me in.
Now I’ll forever be drowning in your eyes,
and always breathing in your voice.
I was in the dark but you lit the skies,
even the stars know you’re the superior choice.

I’ve got another cold night ahead of me
exhale and treasure the breath that I see.
Snow prints don’t lie,
dark tints the sky and I
still witness a star glimmer in my lazy eye.

Whipping winds lash at my face,
squeeze in my shoulders and pick up my pace.
Snow prints don’t lie,
my squints still try to magnify
and catch a glimpse of light to my lazy eye.

So I’ll wear a heavy sweater
and will double up on socks,
prepared for all types of weather
but I’ll be tripping over rocks.
No choice but to keep on going
even without water, shelter or a knife,
and though I’m done with all of the snowing
I guess I’ll just layer up for life.

I’ve got another long day in my view
hopelessly chasing a sunset, I miss each shade and hue.
Snow prints don’t lie,
short stints too high but I comply,
hoping to rest my head and close my lazy eye.

So I’ll wear a heavy sweater
and will double up on socks,
to be facing the outside better
but I’ll be crashing with the stocks.
And in order to pass “go” again,
you gotta trek through heartbreak and strife,
cold hands, do you have mitts to lend?
As I must layer up for life.

I’m determined to walk the path less taken,
and when we intersect it will be the one less shaken.

This seed I’ve been tending and grooming,
sadly it misses the sun these days.
Yet I catch the vibrant flowers sprout and blooming,
it’s the strength not the amount of rays.
I’m not afraid to graze the dirt,
I need to reassure it’s fully hydrated,
softly brush the petals, I’d never see it hurt,
I could be offered palm and money trees but I’d never trade it.

Bringing life into each room
and in the darkest pits it provides a shine,
My heart beats start to rapidly boom,
you know that I know it will all be fine.

I buried a time capsule within my chest
though it was defined by a single memory,
I’m not absent minded just it was the best,
changing and morphing but it’s you constantly.
I’m not afraid to lose sight,
both literally and metaphorically,
as long as I can absorb this all day and night
It’s really the only thing that’s important to me.

Bringing light into the world
illuminating each route and sign,
diamond in the rough and deep sea pearl,
you know that I know it will all be fine.

For if she ever wishes for the moon,
I’ll bring down the whole galaxy,
and a second is just too long and not too soon,
she beats my heart and the air that I breathe.

And if she ever craves the stars,
I’d burn my hands to grasp though they reside in her eyes,
they’re the only thing that shines brighter than this love of ours,
and though her name is of the sea I see it etched in the skies.

I know I am stained with darkness and that itself makes me a crow,
and she’s the pinnacle of light and peace and that dawns her the place of dove.
And while we drive ourselves insane, we can’t deny fate and what we know,
that the dictionary has made a mistake,
darling, we are the true definition of love.

Existence stretched through a detour,
two spots; unknown in direction.
Turning left when it was right before,
keep all guessing, slide past detection.

I’m not a one stop shop,
once I housed hand crafted originality.
With the increase in demand I let my guard drop,
and now both my shelves and insides are empty.
I believed in a watcher behind me,
I held onto tight to an invisible thread.
Everyone is just silently constantly reminding me,
I’m isolated and alone even in my head.

I hear the loud pop of plastic against plastic,
feeling both relief and shame simultaneously.
Side slipping and back breaking; I thought myself a gymnastic,
though incredulous was the thought of even competing.

But I was sleeping in a Chinese finger trap,
so assured that I would choose to make it a womb.
You couldn’t hear a pin drop but with the concept of a single tap,
ears would shake and ring as if it were a sonic boom.
I’ve got nothing but dirt and dust on my shoulders
I pass it off as glitter and simple magic.
I show no signs of tiring from passing back all the boulders
if I didn’t let them slide it would almost be tragic.

Pardon my complacent self involuntary involvement,
and excuse me while I perform dramatic ironies.
Preparing the conscious for the next inevitable instalment
of prepared monologues of justifications and fallacies.

And I can’t but think in this instance,
I remember the episode of The Simpsons
where Homer is outcasted for screaming “aliens”
and he drinks himself out of existence.
“Red M&M, blue M&M,
they’re all the same colour in the end.”

I once believed myself alone
because the world did not know me.
I now know I am alone
because I know the world.

I’ve got a secret that lives in my head
no one knows of it, not even me.
It surfaces slow while I lie in my bed
I wish I could sleep peacefully.

Wind is biting my ear, my left side is ice cold,
I’ve turned numb; I’m not even tingling.
A lifetime of bronze and silver, finally received gold,
but to place around my neck; I’m still hesitating.

It’s been a starry, starry night,
with Rhone’s reflection shining bright
and our Irises connect and only ever see light.
Studying sorrow; pain vs. fear,
so I’ll sit back and contemplate for another year,
would you appreciate the sentiment of Van Gogh’s lost ear?

It will be while on the dryest island where I find my lungs filled with water.
It will be collapsed on ground when I finally stand,
and encased and embraced in ice when I start getting hotter.

Promises will be made
and secrets are kept,
you’re inside me as I’m flayed,
exposed and I feel in debt.
You know that I love you,
that I only think of you,
and no one is your equal let alone ever above you.

It’s been so long at Eternity’s Gate,
I missed the Almond’s Blossom; I was too late,
and The Potato Eaters complain with what is on their plate.
Studying sorrow; shame or a tear,
so I’ll sit back and contemplate for another year,
would you appreciate the sentiment of Van Gogh’s lost ear?

I’d jump to paint your shadow
or even draw your outline in chalk,
I’d drag myself behind you even if you were to allow
me the privilege alongside you to walk.

I aspired to draw a line in the sand
but I ended up carving a square.
It birthed a perimeter that wasn’t planned,
enclosing the emptiness of what was there.
If I could find the will to move my legs
I’d still plant my feet on either side,
but they’re dangling off each limb that drags,
dead weight bumping and bouncing along with the ride.

Stagnantly cushioning careless decisions
and finding loose lint among the remains,
stitching is falling behind the constant incisions
but surprised the pleasures match with the pains.
I’ll be going over, while falling under,
come run Red Rover, abstain or plunder.

I noticed the devolution of my skin,
in the irregular margins I jotted scribbled notes.
We could cut the cost with aluminum foil versus tin,
it could mimic barriers like our winter coats.

See my mouth refuse to further consume
my teeth are made solely to crunch numbers,
checking every inch within each room,
I can’t comprehend the routine this encumbers.
You supply the war
and I’ll supply the headlines.
We’ll follow the same pattern as before,
but now watch out for land mines

I poured the tears into stale water
and traced my hand upon the sun,
burnt fingertips but I thought it would be hotter,
and the brightness could blind if not stun.
Walk off the wounds from imagination
and get in the ring to face reality’s wrath,
I’ll take comfort in knowledge of my destination,
I never rerouted my destined path.

Broken knuckles on my left hand
and spotty bruises on my right,
I left my brain on the coat stand
night after night.
And I was tongue tied with flushed cheeks
thank god for the absence of light,
and in the patterns of your tear streaks
you stamped my name so I’d be sure to catch sight.

Lying on damp grass that still died,
perched on top; we are the dew.
To resuscitate all life we helplessly tried,
but there wasn’t a single chance, it’s sad but it’s true.

Let go of the character
and slide back to the dancing shadows.
I fought tooth and nail to take care of her,
and still it’s I they trot to the gallows.
I’m clearly not MCauly Caulkin,
but I’ve been left stranded home alone.
No silly robbers are going to walk in,
instead it’s the absence that breaks each bone.

The stars are currently spelling out my regrets
and that is the real reason they are infinite and endless.
Whether lost lives, loves, chances, friends or bets,
I’ve got strong arms and even I’m not sure I could mend this.

You can pick up a brick and throw it through a glass pane,
or you can look for others to make a home.
I’ve been stacking my share without a thought in my brain,
I crave some structure but trapped myself in the dome.

I carelessly ripped out every seam and stitching,
I was assigned batting position but I’ve been aimlessly pitching.
My mind is racing and my hands are twitching,
my emotions are pacing but my pen’s tired of my *******.

I’ll be the first to admit
I didn’t have much almost a year ago,
but I had you and you had me.
We had dug ourselves a hole so ******* deep,
even with a telescope scrounged from the garbage we could not catch any glimpses of the natural life above us.
But I held your hand in the darkness
and gave it reassuring squeezes to let you know we’d climb out eventually,
and if we failed, we’d have eachother in the darkness.
At some point I stopped feeling your hand squeeze back,
and within the darkness I could only conclude you had died.
That I was within a hole, I suppose a grave now,
refusing to abandon a decomposing corpse.
When your lips peeled back it revealed your teeth clenched together,
and I convinced myself it was a final smile, but really, I see it was gritted teeth of discontent and disgust.
You blamed me solely for the grave,
but we dug it together, and it only became a grave because you decided to give up instead of fighting for each day and the possibility it would bring.

Everytime we talk now, you leave me for the night to stew in the sadness
and loneliness, you initially left me to drown in.
But there’s a drought from the skies,
so I fill the hole with my tears,
and the blood gushing out from the wounds you gifted me.
I failed to realize those tender kisses where compressed, jaw locking bites into my flesh,
tearing open whatever jugular you had left with me after going after it.

You tell me about your current predicament since your soul
departed the grave and rejoined the land of the living.
It isn’t as great as you believed it would be, is it?
So why do I still feel obligation and sadness hearing about it?

You left me to fend for myself,
to pick up the pieces of the life
we had together that you shattered in a matter of an hour.
You didn’t feel remorse or responsibility for where and how you desserted me.
I’m just not that type of person.

You set what little I had left on fire.
Whether it was my structure,
my financial security,
my confidence,
and the pieces of myself I wished to give to someone more deserving.
Someone who could be there for me in a way you never wanted to be.
Someone who actually loves me and wants to climb out of holes with me.
And I just can’t now.

I don’t love you anymore.
Atleast, not the way I believed I did.
But why do I still feel protective and responsible
for the one who poured the gasoline
and lit the match,
and didn’t even bother to stay to warm their soul at my pyre?

I must be the biggest ******* idiot on the planet.

I don’t know if it’s just the bitter cold
or the failure of the liquor to warm my soul,
but there’s frostbite on my lungs and an emptiness deep inside me.
“The future is bright” oh what a lie,
spending every night with my only company; the sky,
the stars lose the fight and even fade when the sun rises high,
and it does so spitefully.

I’ve got unlimited time,
claiming invincibility as a crime.
I’ve got an endless list in rhyme,
but I have no conclusion.

Tell me Scout, is this a joke you were planning?
Boo Radley’s tree is not for hanging.
Gritted teeth and fists are banging.

I’ve got unlimited time,
but no energy left for the climb.
I’ve got never ending points to chime,
but it’s all an illusion.

Tell me Scout, is this a joke I’m not understanding?
Boo Radley’s tree is not for hanging.
Dodging punches and slurs they’ve all been slanging.

I evaluated the situation up and down, left and right,
and I still don’t think it’s accurate of that night,
‘cause the level was too hard when I meant to choose beginner.
I tried to hold your interest with all my might,
but I noticed your eyes drastically dim in light,
the screen flashed “game over” before we were even done dinner.

The colours to illustrate you don’t exist,
and even if they did I still would miss,
a single shade or hue
that fully captures you.
Better than a Mona Lisa smile,
and Starry Starry Night eyes,
I tried for a mosaic but there was no perfect tile,
nothing could do justice, blasphemy to anyone that tries.

You’re a living, breathing masterpiece;
every gallery should be honoured to have you on their walls.
Too complex for graffiti on the streets,
too heavenly for concert halls.
I can write you; rainbow and tornado,
orbs of faint blue, and a grin of sweet day glow.
Oceanic waves and erupting volcano,
the sun’s ray that came on through,
and the embrace within the wind’s blow.

There isn’t a single brush head I could find,
that could stroke each corner of your mind,
it’s too complex and deep,
it’d be so stunning, it would make all weep.
Putting shame to an Impression, Sunrise
and casting shadows on Lady with an Ermine,
as just a simple picture of your eyes
would last eternally through time.

You’re a living, breathing masterpiece;
not meant for a mere mortal to possess.
Completely perfect personality, traits and feats,
every other human design was just a test.
I can write you, style and rhyme,
blindly bright, natural sunshine.
Digging only at surface to fit into each line,
but there’s no describing what connects it all or the bind.

I know the answer but if you said,
that your favourite colour was red,
I’d let myself bleed out to provide you some paint.
Non acrylic and totally free of lead,
I’d wish for you to illustrate the picture  within my head,
even if the proportions are wrong,
and the lines are blurred and faint.

You’re a living, breathing masterpiece;
completely impossible to duplicate.
Though unfinished you’re still complete,
amazingly flawless in this state.
I can write you; every day till I die,
until the pages and filled and my pens run dry.
Deep like the ocean, but bright like the sky,
and you’ll steal the hearts and breath of all passing by.

I’m the only one with dirt on my hands,
I’ve been crossing my fingers and snapping rubber bands.
And the fragments and pieces build into a story,
I transformed it to a thesis; the quality’s too low for me,
and I never set my expectations too high,
as should I, a lack of truth and abundance of lie.
My oh my and by the by.

There’s cracks in my ceiling and head,
there’s splinters in my skin and my bed,
there’s poison in the words I was fed.

I’m the only one missing pressure on my shoulders,
replaced the gentle weight with two heavy boulders.
I was wishing on satellites thinking they were stars,
breaking free from embraces thinking they were bars,
admiring fireflies not realizing they were cars
but I’m painfully aware of my own
scars.
I’m holding open seminars
to these memoirs of ours.

There’s cracks in my ceiling and shell,
there’s craters in my heart where I fell,
there’s holes in each story you tell.

Please don’t mind me,
I’m just a splinter of the past.
Wandering blindly,
and hands are tied so I can’t grasp.
Just like the thought,
of giving up after giving all I’ve got,
I admit that it wasn’t a lot.

Now it’s too late to pretend
that I’m not broken; could be so easy to mend,
I’ll hide the shatter point where you made me bend.
I’ll return to my other fix,
it succeeds in dulling my heart with it’s mind tricks,
a perfect combination just mix and blend.

Nightly I lay awake
sketching scenarios involving us,
where you give and I take,
I return equal amounts; a benefit of respect & trust.
When it’s time to fill in each word,
I admit I’m aware I’m not what she deserves,
someone better who won’t lose their nerve.

‘Cause it’s too late to pretend
that it’s not plagued in every thought I spend,
should be thankful that I’m important enough to still be called friend.
And there’ll always be somebody else,
completely oblivious to a heart’s wealth,
and too focused on their self to ever expend.

We can’t fix the mistake
but we can make a new one;
drain each ocean and lake,
and completely block out the sun.

Yes it’s too late too pretend
that you’re not draped in every word I’ve penned,
even with the lowest odds I’ll still contend.
And do you see each blow and broken bone,
wishing that I’d just leave and find a home?
On me you can depend to not be alone,
do you think the same you could lend?

I’ll bring you the moon
and the stars will come down for you tonight.
I hope that you will show up soon,
but I don’t see one trace of light.
I’m at dead end ruin,
I guess I should’ve made a right.
Bound to pop just like a balloon,
no need to apply strength or might.

So don’t try to stray
it will never be through,
you can’t run away,
she’s not done with you.

Climb out from the dark,
but take a break before you tire.
I thought that I did feel a spark
but realized that I’m on fire.
I’m ash; my body is an urn,
I beg to be spread and to be set free.
So blindingly bright you burn
but there’s no complaints from me.

So don’t try to stray,
it’s something you can’t do,
you can’t run away,
she’s not done with you.
Every night and day,
one thing rings true,
sidelined and kept at bay,
it’s just déjà vu.

You know I have nothing left to lose
but I’d still give all of my nothing over to you.
Out of options but there’s only one thing that I’d choose,
the only thing I know, but still a mystery lacking a clue.

Think of how beautiful life could be
and all of the colours that could come from grey.
Just take a single step towards me
and I’ll carry us both the rest of the way.

I won’t try to stray,
you know I’m stuck like glue,
I’ll never run away,
I’ll follow it through.
There’s nothing else to say,
one divided by two,
and come what may,
it’s all déjà vu.

I’ll keep my distance
but dream of you nightly.
But in this instance
you just shine so brightly.

Why do me the courtesy
of meeting me half way?
Unleashing your opinions of me,
putting fears to rest and keeping pain at bay.
You might aswell just ****** me,
this game I never signed up to play,
yet still I’m screaming it out internally
but it’s not my place to say.
I guess I’ll keep quiet for another day.

When I was fourteen
my sister was teaching me how to drive,
I went to make a left turn and hit the breaks; second guessing myself.
“Never hesitate,” she said,
“it’s when you hesitate that causes a crash.”
“Make a decision and go with it.”
All these years later it still rings true.
All these years later I still have yet to listen.

You’re picking every single door
except the one I could never lock.
Consciously you know there could be one more
but you’ll continue on your never ending walk.
“Even though she knows you’d go through Hell,
why would she love you? She knows you too well.”
Accept the truth and I’ll face the wrath,
I am the root but you’re always the path.

We see days and nights at separate times,
they appear the same but differentiate.
I **** on lemons but bathe in the bitterness of limes
encircled in salt; for sugar I’ll have to wait.

What doesn’t **** me only leaves me on the brink of death,
right hand on heart as I lost my left.
I’ll form the only links that I know
and wait to hear, “I told you so.”

I stop short of screaming those crucial words
you don’t need to hear it, they’re engraved in your mind.
Instead I whisper them to the trees, the leaves and birds,
they’re the only company that I find.

What doesn’t **** me only leaves me on the brink of death,
I’ve saved your truth for my last breath.
You’ll find it all in each day with age,
I’ll write it down in a novel; you won’t skip to the last page.
I always needed it more than you’ll ever know,
and you’ll tell yourself “I told you so.”

I’m waiting patiently to wake up
a living nightmare where I’m always stuck,
this thing called life that I have no desire for,
there’s a million exits but only one opened door.

So I raised my happinesses tolerance
now referred to only in the past tense.
Two sides and two faces; who decides which is best?
I just don’t know which one I recognize less.

My only saviour has been running late
but I promised that I would always wait.
She says I’m acting too stupid when she knows that I’m smart,
it’s these little contradictions that rip all apart.

I’m trying on all shades of purple and white,
I’ve gotten bored of only blue and red each night.
Why say so long when we can just say goodbye,
all that’s right is wrong and we feed truth a lie,
that’s the similarities and differences of you and I.

Seems I like dark deception
and the odd manipulative game,
I question quality of reflection
as each shares the same.
And it seemed like love
until I’ve finally had enough.

I tie up my own two feet
and put my hands straight to shackle,
and while the imprisonment is sweet
there’s too much bitterness to tackle.
And it seemed like love
until the rose tint got scuffed.

She shook the flowers from her hair
and my fingers were cut from the thorns of the tangles.
I thought there were a million clear signs there
I took the time to find each direction, possibilities and angles.
Did I demonize a saint?
or did I give a monster wings?
The image is up for perception, not the paint,
and the same song is different depending on who sings.

Seems I attract words of blades
and metaphorical slaps in the face,
deciphering shadows into different shades
and ranking them last to first place.
And I wanted it to be love,
but it was lower when I thought it above.

I see false inflated importance
or I see nothing at all.
With black and white I took a grey stance,
but my planted feet kept me from standing tall.
An empty home with a closing wall.

Seems I like dark deception
and the odd manipulative game,
I convince myself it’s forms of affection,
so it’s only I to blame.
And it seemed like love,
but I chose the noose instead of my glove.

Playing a game of cat and mouse
but we both lose track of the bird.
My scorched soil I failed to douse,
I’m filled with such fuel; it’s so absurd.
I linger always alone in an empty house,
speaking two thoughts but I left out the last word.
They were meant with love but I turned to grouse,
either way they never seem to be heard.

I wish I was licking stamps
instead of licking my wounds.
My letter to you gifts my fingers cramps,
I hope one day you decipher it soon.
The one thing that I am best at
is always being a bad example,
I can elaborate on how to keep looking back,
but not on the best way things should be handled.
And I hope one day you’ll see your name
woven in each line and all my stanzas.
But I think when you see it that way, I’ll just explain,
not to go buying me green bananas.

When I was 15 I chose to sign up as an ***** donor,
but all are probably damaged, and the vital ones are no longer mine.
I offered them as tribute to a Queen I adore,
she collected them and added to her shrine.

My tongue is tied tight when I try to express
importance and just what it all means to me,
but if you listen closely to my chest
you’ll hear my heart beating steadily.
And when you’re dressed to the nines
I’ll still be in left in my pajamas.
Waving my arms to direct the signs,
just don’t go buying me green bananas.

I accepted your world became my cage
but I was loyal; I didn’t need a lock.
I reasoned it as the final stage,
I didn’t need a chain just for you to mock.

I’m not angry, I’m not sad,
no resentment from me, don’t go feeling bad.
I’d still take this dagger as long as it’s your hand that grips
I wouldn’t escape or try to stagger,
sadly I’m done with my trips.

I concede and admit that I’ve gone mad,
welcomed with hallelujahs and an amen.
I’m having trouble stripping off my plaid,
but I figure it’s finally time to change stripes again.

I spotted a fortune teller at an old county fair
while knowing the answers I still looked for some there.
There was no love line or fate line she could’ve read,
I told her I bet there’s no sun line, life line or trace of a head.
She met my eyes with sadness written all over her face,
and told me out of all people that I was her worst case.
She traced the inside of my hand intently trying to see
then she asked me had I recently been burned severely.

In my death bed I’ve been waiting patiently for sleep
sadly I’m not the one it wishes to greet.
With past scars and present fresh wounds tunnelling down so deep,
loss of blood and mind so I’m left as just a sack of meat.

A loving caress to each feature
but succeed in only poking the bone,
and every single living creature
dies completely alone.
She was a rainbow and I; charcoal grey,
they all choose to go but claim they wish to stay.

The beeping bouncing off the wall
steady like sirens or alarms,
and at the end of it all
we all die in our own arms.
She was a rainbow and I; charcoal grey,
I still catch her glow but it’s fading away,
I know it could never last, but I still have to pray,
‘cause I am the past and she’s only in today.

I’ve acted strong and kept up this ruse,
atleast I can say I’ve always been brave,
but when I’m not digging up the past, ghosts or clues,
I’ve steadily been digging my own grave.

No lines, no ties, not a single strand.
I’ve got the palmist right in the palm of my hand.

I’m breaking down along with our economy
and all around they only want more from me.
The end of my rope but I’ve been tethering,
searching out hope but it’s straining and weathering.
Who cares? There’s nothing good to find,
the never ending stairs within my mind,
I’ve kept going, without knowing,
and there’s no result showing.

If you ask me what I’ve wanted the most,
it’s to destroy this parasite; I’m not much of a host.
I’m just waiting, debating
and operating almost like a robot.
I walk alone, I have no home.

I think I’ll crash if I continue going at this rate,
or maybe just break down; it’s still up for debate.
It seems like everyone in the world is ******* me
except for the select few who I wouldn’t mind *******.
Wouldn’t it be exciting for our system to start igniting?
But you know we’d foot the bill
‘cause we’re paying them still.
They crave our money and vote but don’t care to hear us speak,
so my sincerest thanks for letting me work to barely eat.

If you ask me what I’ve wanted the most,
it’s to have an outside life; this routine’s made me a ghost.
It’s been draining, to be maintaining
this training to become a robot.

If you were to ask what our Country needed the most,
it’s lower taxes and more production from East to West coast.
We’re all slaving, and behaving
for laboursaving just like a robot.
I’m not alone, I notice each clone.

An anchor weighs upon my chest
applying pressure above my left breast,
crushing it down to create a concave,
I wave off EMT, there’s nothing left to save.
It was only hope that I’d keep going,
but I truly see no reason why,
I was cursed with the gift of knowing
I could only expect to just get by.
I think I’d rather die.

With a voice just like a symphony
and your hands were my favourite vice,
the gentle way that they held onto me,
thank god your body made them twice.
It was only hope to keep the memory,
as that’s the reason why,
I can look back at the past tenderly,
but sometimes I wish it was a lie.
Maybe it’s just the view of my eye.

Arms like home and lips like heaven
I found a shooting star at eleven-eleven.
But I stopped wishing.
Distanced by the strong will of the walls,
I see you in the streets, pubs and shopping malls.
But I stopped wishing, keep on fishing till life calls.

In a way you did assist
though you do not know it,
as happiness; it killed the poet.
It was only hope that I’d keep growing,
but I can see no reason why,
as soon the clouds will be snowing
when I crave the rain from the sky.
I will settle for the wind that’s blowing
to cover up my disappointed sigh,
if I must be cold I guess it’s best I’m dry.

Now I don’t know what you want from me
or even what you are expecting,
as I don’t know if I’m good enough to deliver
‘cause where I feel a stab I only portray a sliver.
It was only hope that I’d keep flowing
and I’d find a reason why,
the ancient embers continue glowing,
the flames will return and be twice as high.
Making me a firefly.

Falling down like a rain drop
twenty-twenty but I’m blind.
Knowing that this must stop,
maybe tomorrow I’ll change my mind.

But maybe the fog has made me hazy,
no one will choose to save me,
write me off as crazy,
their judgements come too hasty.
Red flags planted to trace me
to the spot where I’ve been wasting
no help to do it myself,
I guess I’ve gotten lazy.
I vow to not continue with the crime,
maybe tomorrow or another time.

Tumbling around like dry leaves,
amazed by the colours you find.
Trading dry mouth for dry heaves,
maybe tomorrow I’ll change my mind.

Take notice that life as a poetess
feels kind of hopeless,
and as a bonus I’m under hypnosis.
I’ve been focused on picking myosotis
for my magnum opus,
better than roses
but less than autumn crocus.
I’ll watch them bloom in their prime,
maybe tomorrow or another time.

Lying on the ground as the concrete,
don’t mind the chalk as I’m outlined.
I think it’s due I get back on my feet,
maybe tomorrow I’ll change my mind.

You know I saw this from miles away
planted my feet determined to stay,
you’re always searching for an answer,
blatant location: Tropic of Cancer,
I try to give direction but it’s something I can’t say.

So don’t go giving up on me
I try my best to make it all easy,
but you’re determined to house this burden,
even though it’s certain I’m the person,
who’s always around even when you can’t see.

I’ve got the patience of a saint and some,
and gained belief and knowledge from
what dreams may come.

Well we’ve discussed this and more
opened the lines and opened the door.
So divided and undecided,
why try to fight it when we can’t hide it,
you can’t go showing someone truth they’re not ready for.

I’ve got the time to wait in slum,
some would say I’m playing dumb
for what dreams may come.

I’ll keep living under heavy thumb,
trying to convince myself I’m numb
to what dreams may come.

Told me to close my eyes and count to ten,
I counted down to one and then back up again.
It almost feels like it’s a crime
how blatantly I waste my time,
what does it matter? If it would shatter, it would still be mine.

Nightly I brush my hands against the dark sky,
I know it’s painted with splotched stars but not seen by the eye.
It’s creating ice cold fingers,
and a chill that lingers,
though bold, I was never a fan of cold.

It’s just that I’m trapped in another space,
my time and reality are lacking trace,
I’m right that I’m in the wrong place.
Or maybe we’ve just all been dead for years,
no one wants to add to their fears,
but the thought is turning gears.
It’s plausible, not impossible.

Told me to close my eyes and spin around,
counter and clockwise I whirled until I was on the ground.
I feel too old to play hide and seek,
strong night vision but perception’s weak,
I’m lacking balance, it’s never been in my talents, it’s looking bleak.

It’s just that I’m trapped in another space,
unable to alter my choices in this case,
the isolation and void I just can’t face.
Or maybe I’m just separated from the galaxy,
outcasted from the place I’m meant to be,
stuck in the shoes of an alternate reality Emily.
Growing more deranged, some things don’t change.