and the worst part is-
you'll travel the world, you'll experience life and grow up, go far from here, and you'll still find yourself looking twice at every guy who passes by, hoping it's him. hoping he's somewhere looking for you, too.

Sealed in space
Motionless love theme
Neglecting a soul saved
Precipitated malice
Unoriginal to a shameful crypt
Rearranged embrace
A slave within
You keep steady warmth in Denver
I wither continually in Memphis

Roots softly entwined
like thoughts in the dark cold earth.
Woven in the loom of the mind.
How something so pure can grow from something so sinister.
Long hairs tinted yellow sprouting from your tips.  
Your soft white whispers drifting through the air,
catching the current in the skies.
I hold you in my hands, gently inhale your temporary beauty.
Caught in a trance as I exhale and watch you disappear.
Up to the skies I look to see you getting swept up.
My wish made was never granted.
You're gone now and I'm left with an unearthly empty shell.
I open my hands and all that remain of you fall effortlessly to the ground.
Your fall cushioned by long green fingers reaching to the sky.
There, you are reunited with other such as yourself.
Those empty promises echoed in the carcasses that lay next to yours.
-
Your brazen tips glazed in a shock of colour
Pregnant with joyful scents, bursting through your silky palms
Untouchable Ivory put on ostentatious display
Waxy green protection against jealous creatures allured by your bold skin
Spiked tongue lapping up soft powder
Palate tingling colours
Come now young one, let your hand out
Touch the rays of sun that break through the clouds
Unfurl your glossy arms let them reach to the skies
Embrace the copper halo of fresh dawn
-
Kaleidoscopic explosion of feathery pink from
frivolous lace of green
shooting from an abyss of fleshy undertones
chirping in a bloom of tenderness
Natural flirt laying delicious kisses on your diaphanous hands
Dashes of bittersweet morning yellow erupting from flaxen haired beings
Quotidian fever blushing your glossy cheeks
Exuberant vitality in the eyes of the beholder
-
Darling Delilah somersaults under the summer sky.
Tender yellow belly jade-inlaid silently teasing
Wistful white limbs under threat - recited childish game
Droplets of tears cried over lost lovers, gently caress your velvety skin
Loves me, loves me not.
Follow the trail of loved golden petals
Plucked from a field of menageries
The field of unspoken languages
Jovial melodies escape your white rib cage
Wolf-whistle hymns emanate from your progeny
-
Winter’s frost biting at your satin petals
Drawing your soft palms together in a synchronized motion
Awaiting the Sun's demise
Fading from fluorescent pink to a beige purple
accepting your fate as night crawls nearer
Tiny capsules cuddle your closed body, capturing the light of day
Bitter breezes sway your spirit sweetly as the moon shines over the sleeping
-
Midnight blue hung it's head low, gracefully dipping it's toes in the icy water
Exhaling soft whispers in the ears of the insomniac
under the blanket of tattered stars
Glitter embellished skies shatter into fragments of shadows
Picturesque luminous nebula sprayed across the abysmal crescent
Luminosity fades from your touch and lower you bow
Lullaby your fragile celestial glow into a deep sleep
-
Mourners tears fall
Staining your diminutive blue faces black
Remorseful mutters tremble your weary heart
Aching voices tearing your delicate edges
Myosotis silvatica engraved upon the headstone where they lay
Forget-me-not child as I am immortal, lost souls earnt divinity
Warm blooded fingertips clench your presence
Dark figures gently brush past
A ceremonial statement
For the grieving

Pretend piety,
Of the temporary variety,
Placed in a shine of "I am better than you high society".

Your words are intelligent,
Your words hold weigh,
But my sentiment makes your feeble words tremble and shake.

It has taken years of mental *******,
To develop the concentration,
To compose these compilations of rhythmic translations!

You think you are the victor,
You feel you have won,
But this is no mere battle, it's a ******* war...son...your pain has just begun.

Because we don't need five minutes alone,
To crush any poem,
But reaching the masses and in between is where, I, call home.

Love and pain are parts of the game, but so are other emotions,
So merely beware, your pen must dip a little deeper into far vaster oceans,
If you think you can contend to my level or quotient...

My friend....