your heart was always out of reach
and mine was always in your hands
but if you listen closely
you can hear my ribs cracking
to the rhythm of your breathing
your grip tightens 
my heart screams 
you laugh
i beg
you lie
we fight
"do you think I'll cry?" I ask
"you know I'll try" you counter
the sky darkens as you smile
nothing unusual 
i think about when I paced my halls
at three in the morning on a sunday
and how it was just like when 
you pulled me underwater 
and it felt like I was breathing fire 
and suddenly you're talking about
when we first met
in that church parking lot
when it started something
that was anything but holy
and I laugh at the irony
it was better than any poetry
i could ever write 

[holyoak]

dance steps on the marble floors
still echo off the walls
music that's almost forgotten
whispers through the halls

pillars holding vaulted ceilings
no longer sparkling white
tattered torn and misbegotten
what was once ornate delight

dusty tables are scattered broken
chairs are thrown askew
joyful memories start to fade
as they feel no longer new

a space once crowded warm and bright
has lost its quaintness in the night

now that the parties over
all the people have gone home
shadows fill the empty spaces
where happiness once shone

Drain out of me
running through the page
a cloudy yellow apathy
with crimson streaks of rage
my doctor thinks a catheter
could help me hold my tongue
but I've swallowed his for years now
and my flow has just begun.

Half of my love songs
were written for your brother.
Now you're the subject.

There is nothing to be amassed
I am just a traveler passing by
Only surviving on nature’s bounty
Genuflecting to her kindness
Embracing me as her own
Humbled by her generosity
Treating everyone equally
For ages so many walked by
Trying to mind a meaning of self
Peacefully finding a resting place