Summer was spent chasing sunsets. We held on tightly to the last light of day as it slipped between the cracks in our fingers. We traveled anywhere the highways were willing to take us and passed through an infinity of small towns, each identical to the last, but growing smaller all the time. I learned to love you under endless blue skies seen from the passenger side window and in your shattered mirror, shards of glass barely hanging on. On cloudy days, we hid away in my freezing basement behind closed doors and under mountains of blankets. We shut the world out and made our own in which we felt we could belong. We would lie for hours, limbs intertwined, so close we became one. We were there, in that place, in that way, in that moment, frozen in time for all of eternity.

I'm peeling off the dead layers of skin that have been weighing me down and I'm sewing all my empty pockets shut. I've given up searching for whatever it is I lost. I don't know where I'm headed, but I'm finally moving forward. This isn't who I am or who I hope I'll become, but it's the best I can do for now. I still can't put my thoughts into words and I'm still hitting the notes off key, but I'm getting closer all the time. I won't let the loneliness get to me like it did before. I'm better off on my own. These days are coming to an end and I'm trying to make the most of them. I'm learning to carry on as if you were still breathing.

A pastel blue backdrop
behind three glass frames
not a cloud in the sky
not a plane flying by

Yet I cannot learn to love
the sky without the trails
smoky puffs of vapour
line a day with uncertainty

For a blue sky is bland
without the odd trace
of imperfection, even
birds in formation become
the aforementioned.

"I can't stand to sing
the same song the same way
two nights in succession"
Routine it seems is its
own imperfection.

Give me a grey sky in June
And thunder in peace
A stark croaking crow
Can be sheer bliss

All things aligned,
Excitements amiss
For the brain needs
A puzzle, a challenge...

Confrontation, **** your
Hollywood films and
Normalisation, your
predictable habits

And false gestation;

Astro-Turf fields
And palm tree islands,
Man-made beaches
And glacier skylines

Synthetic audio
and bastardisation
of the arts, your
contempt for nature

Shall be your Achilles
for the world we live in,
the forests and canopy's
are the very providers

Of human abilities,
rid us of them and face
extinction, this is the
nature of colonisation.

The earth which houses us
is not formulaic, It's a collision
of astronomic proportions
every detail as vital as another

Mankind can be primal, Oedipal
and graceless, but respecting your
home is not an optional gift, for
we cannot survive as a species adrift.

Sometimes it's best to give the weaker vessel a win of a battle so the disappointment after the war will be greater

Seeking moisture,
Eyes are
Earthen creatures.
Broken stalks stumble on
barren earth,
good earth, but barren
earth that shelters
Fourteen
Thousand ants under the space of a single
spades-worth.
Dust-wind blows
a tearful melody on the necks of laborers,
Omniscient, yet naïve-
A spades-worth of tilling,
A single day in an eon,
A negation in a wave of self-doubt,
A grudge of a thousand foes against the shadows of
Fourteen
Thousand ants under the space of a single
Thud.

As I am lying in my tree house alone on a Friday night, thoughts of death dance through my mind. I am shrouded in the dark of a starless sky, but unprotected from the sudden gusts of harsh winter wind that eat away at my exposed flesh. The cold of the outside world seems so irrelevant compared to the inside. Loneliness has found its home in this vacant heart of mine. The emptiness sinks in slowly, a little more with each blinding flash of headlights that pass by my driveway. The reality of the situation is that I come out here to be alone because I feel the most isolated when I am surrounded by people.

The sinking of the mid-afternoon sun has yet to lose its magic, but our eyes are unable to recognize the beauty of this world in our old (enough) age. Our surroundings have not changed, but they have changed us.

We close our eyes, blinded by the sun's reflection in the shallow pools of water on the side of the road. With each car we pass, we are getting farther away from a place we once called home. Shadows stretch from barren tree branches and highway signs trying to hold onto the last light of day, but coming up short.  We all come up short in this life.

Our efforts are never enough to stop this dying planet from spinning around the sun once more, but we still try to at least slow it down so we can finally exhale and let go of the air we've been holding in our blackened lungs since the day we were born

It all moves too fast. One minute you've got your whole life ahead of you, and the next you've somehow ended up stuck in a failing relationship or working a job you hate. You never thought you'd make it past high school, and now you're on your own wishing you hadn't.

We're all just wanting someone to stay up with us on the nights when sleep is the last thing on our minds, but we always end up alone, watching the horizon fade to black. The night sky is starless and as empty as we are. Nothing has changed, but nothing's the same. We didn't grow up to be what we thought we would. The sun sets, but we cannot. We will still be awake to greet it in the morning of the next day of our never ending, meaningless lives.

It's as if someone has painted the windows black, but it is only night, and has been for as long as I can remember. I cannot recall if I have gotten out of this bed today or not. These legs of mine are getting tired of carrying around all the extra weight from too many heavy thoughts. I try to smoke them away, but I just keep breathing them all back in. These cigarettes might **** me, but not if I beat them to it. The years keep adding up, but nothing else does. I'm done hoping for things to get any better. They never do.

I look down with my tear stained face
Do I walk away and let you be
Or do I dig with my fingers,dig a grave to lay beside you my dear and wrap your bony fingers in my icy ones
Or do I leave you be my darling?do I let you sleep?even though the night will settle upon my flesh and eat me like acid once I step aside and let you be covered.
The dirt will be the lucky one..it will be able to touch you for eternity,at first your flesh..dotted with freckles and uncertinity,and your lips as they have dried with your secrets.
Then it would carress your finebones,bones no other has touched except God when he molded you effortlessly and dropped you in my lap
However now my lap has grown tired and weak,you do not sit on it anymore.You do not exist