I used to dream in you,
swim in the sweetness dripping from your lips,
drown in its foaming effervescence.
Your heart was an open ocean in which I could drift,
cradled and fearless.
seeking adventure;
a voyager hungry for new discoveries.
Your open soul was as expansive as universes
holding all the stars and suns and milky ways and moons.. and constellations.

Your words fell as gentle as falling snow
and melted deep into the crevices
and recesses of my mind,
a light that found every corner of darkness
and illuminated it,
stretching it beyond any capacity it had ever known.

I used to dream of you
of your giving spirit,
before it became as barren as the desert floor..
offering only mirages..
teasing like merciless vultures
feeding on the carrion of my desperate heart.

You stole my dreams of you,
a highwayman riding his horse of delusion;
wearing the garb of Lancelot
and the image of Dorian Gray.
You rode in from the sunset
haloed by a crimson dust,
bearing your concealed sword..

.. a sword that pierced the dreams of you,
pierced the golden sun to its core;
its light dimming and fading until it was no more.
and the air was filled with a gray, hot wind;
an inferno bearing through,
and carrying the putrid scent of confusion.

I used to dream.

Fear not the moonlight's lonely calling
lets dance a while as stars are falling
to tunes formed from our hearts desiring
and gladly we shall greet the morning.

Though Luna's sorrow may be bright
enchanting all on loveless nights
take heart and whisper with delight
that love is here, just out of sight.

Then when the dawn in chorus starts
and from our skies she softly parts
please offer up as she departs
a kiss upon her lonely heart.

There is no such thing
as perfect silence
in my normal existence.

In waking hours,
thoughtful cacophony
fills my head,
filtering out the sounds
that really matter.

In my sleep,
dreams shout aloud
all the wonders
I recall from
distant memory.

But I came close
once
to attaining such
silence,
such aloneness.

Strong boughs held
me up, keeping me safe
from the dangers
below.

A broken grip,
losing touch with
the support
I forgot about.

Deafening pain
roared through
my very being,
muting my desire
to listen to reason.

I heard nothing,
except for my own desire
to live
in silence.

Don't you agree, everyone talks too much?
Can't we listen, not talk, just hush.
I think you'd be surprised at all the things you'd hear.
Maybe the silence would draw more people near.
No more hurt feelings, or losing those you love.
Just hush and listen for guidance from above.
You're so busy talking, you can't hear what He says.
Although He's the only reason you're being blessed.
So here is some advice to those who won't shut up.
When you listen, you will learn.
And that should be enough.

My rib cage is parted, a bird's nest inside. The
pebbles and sticks guard my lungs. Sparrows
peck at the hollows of my heartstrings and
feast on aortic valves.

I’ve walked through graveyards in the broad daylight,
Not to feel like I’m alive,
But to search for a place to die.
I want to know what section of the cemetery I’ll be buried in.
I’ve walked the grass between the headstones,
Reading the different names,
And in the far corner underneath a shade tree,
I used a shovel one night to dig out six feet
Of dirt which lies in a pile beside the rectangle hole.
I’ve knelt beside my plot and wondered if my casket
Would keep me warm after having left the cold earth.
The grass that surrounded my future home tickled my legs
As I prayed to a folded paper headstone that I held between my fingers.
Wrapped within the creases, rested my beloved razor blades
And written in the tear stained white space
Read the word, “depression.”

I threw the folded paper six feet under and stood up to refill the grave.