If we make our mark
and are remembered fondly

There are no goodbyes

For I
will always be

As you
will always be

The infinite gap between I don't want to live and I want to die and how sometimes they can be covered in a flicker of your eyes.

The infinite gap between who you are and who  time wants you to be and how a whole life can be covered trying to find a balance between these two.

The infinite gap between where you're and where your heart lies and how sometimes the hollow heart beats remind you you're better off without your heart trying to break through the ribs that enclose it, for its own safety.

The infinite gap between your lips and the name you want to chant like some unheard prayer.

The infinite gap between the fingers on your hands and how they're used to holding air in an attempt to fill the spaces where his hair you held.

The infinite lapse between the first step you take towards him and the next.

The infinite hesitation between feeling too much and never acting on it.

The infinite times I watch my palm open and close reaching out and running away from you.

The infinite gap between I love you and let's be together.

In these infinite gaps, somewhere, we both are lost

In my dream last night,
I was swirling in slow motion
within a deep bluish whirlpool

I couldn't breathe
or feel anything,
all I saw was my past
swirling around me

the fear and the failures,
gloom and the despair,
love and the promises,
all swirled for my eyes

It was a slow dance
in a burning room
and I wondered whether
it would stop or not?

You have to realize that your convictions and desires to work toward being a better person and not regretting your past mistakes apply to others. Trying to move past problems you've created with others within your history but putting others down for trying to move past theirs doesn't make any sense.....what do you really believe in?

what gives your life real meaning?
at the top, i bet it is friends.
what else could give life such gleanings?
neither health nor fancy playpens?
but, while husbands name their wives
as their "bestie", why do wives name
other women as friends?

its funny
how we take refuge at night
stuck between
lingering and lurking
when everything and nothing
is wrong and right
all at once

thoughts deep enough
to drown us
drip dry overhead
staining our bodies black
as the sky outside our lazily cracked windows

every sound is amplified
limited eyesight
heightening our sense of hearing
encouraging us to remain
quiet
dark
calm
but never asleep