The misty and damp mornings
                                                       alone are what hurt the most.
When I crave nothing more
                                                 than the warmth of your embrace and sight.
Why am I the most pleased
                                                 when we say goodbye.
It's only then
                        I feel anything.

Reevaluations Don't

I can feel your nails across my fingers,
     The ripples in my hand.
I can feel your warmth across me,
     Like waves over the sand.

I can sense the goodness in your heart,
     The softness in your soul.
Every time I take a breath,
     I know you're good and whole.

But more than all, I want your love,
     Your milky white softness.
But more than all, I want your trust,
     Show me you're not flawless-
                                                                                                     You're wrong.

I am searching for a soul in the darkness,
A light I may have found.
The seventh sense of mankind,
The fourth primary color.
The chord you cannot hear,
The not that isn't strummed.

I am searching for love.
         And I may fave found it here.

                                  -Marshall Hiatt
                                             1-24-14

The only true reflections come from the mouths of those who love you.

It's always my pain which makes me cry.
But tonight it's yours.

******* this red *****.
It won't stop beating.
Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick.
STOP!

I take a deep breath which isn't so deep and isn't much of a breath...



Tick.

******

Nature learns and teaches,
But there are natural laws,
They govern all who slither,
Shamble, glide and walk.

During development,
These laws may bend, break,
May teeter and sway,
But the law is nature's make.

One will always return
To the rules we are bound,
The encompassing, unwavering,
Even the profound,
Nature without personal sin.
Nature within.

I still think it was a dream.
Convinced actually.

If it weren’t for the warm of her kiss,
Or the bumps on her belly,
And the shape of her face,
I’d still believe it was fake.

For days it seemed I stared,
And she let me.

I learned her, far better than ever before,
She is more.

She is both a dream and a reality,
An Angel and a human.

She exists,
You see.

Cookie cutter templates for every soul in a building.
Sheep.

They are not the same. We are not the same. You are not.
The same.

Don't make me fall more deeply than I have,
The hole I've fallen into still has handle bars.

But deeper, where you're dragging me,
There is only one way out.

Down.

"AH **** she's beautiful! My heart's going to explode!"

I'd call them butterflies, but I have never felt one this big,
Let alone plural.

If an ounce more was taken from my body, and one more wing added to my stomach,
I could fly.

You reach a point where you dream of something so much,
One day you awake and it's there.
Right in front of you.
And it smiles and kisses you goodnight.

One soul is missing from this pauper's mansion.
One bed stays cold all day, all night.
We were three, then two. And now the two are really each their own.
One and one.

One soul is missed in this casa.
La alma de mi perrito.

Even the most acute sliver of that silver light can show perfection.

And though it may take me 193 years after my creation to land on the moon,
You need not be so close to realize her beauty.

We have telescopes for a good reason. Rocket ships are a hassle to work.

I was wrong.
Your eyes are not blue moons,
Not because
    they are not blue,
Nor is it because
    they are not moons.
But it is because I have never seen two moons,
And neither of both I have not seen are blue.


But I have seen the moon.
It is gorgeous.
You are gorgeous.

The moon’s surface is white, pure white,
Your surface is very much similar.

The moon’s face is surrounded with pitch black,
Your face is too, although there is some dyed red.

The moon’s surface has craters,
From when the universe wasn’t so kind.
I know you have those too,
But they are lines, not seas. Red and pink, not gray.

The moon can’t cry, nor can it show affection.
For that reason, amidst infinite others, you are perfect.
The moon is not,
But it can remind me of you.

And I am grateful for that.
The moon and you.

But only when you ask the right question,
Will I tell you the truth.

And then he woke up.
And the world was white,
Not with snow,
but purity.

Oh wait. That’s just her.
I should stop staring.

Shatter my illusions,
Convince me that your body is that of a human,
     That no wings are upon you,
I will still call you an Angel.
I know you are more than a woman on this earth.

You are of God.

-1/10/14

I have a habit,
Of summoning the devil
When I speak of him.

Though this devil has no horns,
Her skin is white,
And she has claimed no sin.

Never been to hell,
Floating in her own heaven,
She is purity.

Why do I call her such names
When I know she's only herself;
"Perfection."

Ferryman on the water,
Sliding his oar silent,
In the river Styx,
And is it quiet,

The thinnest line of ripple,
Seen by the thinnest eye,
Could tell where he went,
Where none dared try,

Upon the Styx,
Only one man could pass,
The ferryman alone can pierce
This surface of glass,

The land of the dead,
Two souls await,
Two lives of long past,
Both paid one gold, the ferry’s rate.
Both sailed straight,
Both would last.

After so long,
The fog was gone.

Clear.

The Consensus in Silence.

It comes when no man speaks.
When no rain falls and no gun sounds.

It comes when you least expect it.
Awaiting the response, anticipation broken.

It comes when a question is asked.
And not one, not the strongest soul can answer.

It comes when a question is asked to all of us.
And not one voice is heard.
But thousands are felt.

Sail the nebula above,
Perk your head slightly,
Highlight the light in your eyes,

Discard your box of fears,
Enlighten shadows,
Sit with me, just be mine,

Taste the air softly silent,
Turn over a new leaf,
Let me see you in new light,

I’m sick of these metaphors,
Stop playing this game,
Tired of writing these lines,

From the start,
I’ve scribbled so much,
Where’s the art?
Where’s your touch?

Dr. Maj: I am satan !
Ghostly: Is that so
Ghostly: I guess you've received a lot of mail recently coming from all the dyslexic children writing to Santa.

The comfort in monotony comes when she doesn't stop loving you.
When your nights are always blessed by the same phrase of affection.
"Dream sweet."
Every night you speak,
I dream sweeter.
And to see her,
Her smile and hair and skin from hundreds away,
Makes me say,
"I love you."

Silently.

Convinced that there is no life after death,
Convinced that no god watches over me,
Convinced my actions never really count.

I don't believe.

But for some blasted reason there is one person,
Tried true and tested rigorously,
And this one woman I trust. I believe.

I believe in love.

A love-sick dog.
But every bone he digs up was put there by some other dog.
They all taste like other dogs.

But he stops.
"*******, the bones don't taste like other dogs,
My TONGUE tastes like other dogs."
"Those *******."

And so he spent the next couple months applying acid to his tongue,
To burn out the taste and smell of the girl-dogs he had been with.
But it never worked.

He's still trying though.
To burn the taste away.

He wants a clean bone.

Sometimes I wonder if in my old age,
I will be remembering these nights.

Not the nights I cry, nor the nights I smile.
The nights where I stare. Melancholy.

The nights where Faith had ****** my memories.
The nights where Katriana had dashed my hopes.
And the nights where Jami gave me reason to not blow my brains out.

But not really. They all just, they are memories.
Except maybe Jami, she might be a thing.

But the pain I feel is not a memory.
It's right here, still burning.

And I don't know what to do, except, just. Force myself to breathe.
Force myself to keep pumping blood.
Force myself to remember that people aren't intrinsically bad.

They just, **** up and love somebody else and **** up at that too.
And **** me. **** me for having these thoughts.
Who was I to enter these women's lives. A poser. A stalker.
A creep.

I love you so much it breaks my heart,
Every word you say gives me a start,

I’m terrified,
To clarify; I’m scared,
But, let’s not go there.

We have a future, that much is clear,
I think I know where to steer,
But, why here?

I want to run away.
Someday.

With you.

A hippy sits in the corner.
But he’s never smoked ***.

A bandage drapes his chest.
But he’s never been shot.

The bandage is unseen.
And so was the bullet.

The sound was so silent.
He didn’t even know it.

His diagnosis: Betrayal.
His prescription: Ink.

His past: Too near.
His future: Unclear.

His eyes keep staring.
He never blinks.

            -December 28th 2013

I remind myself of a dog chasing his tail,
In circles I spin again, not realizing,
When I sleep, when I wake, I see my tail
    And chase,
But the sweetest days,
The sweetest days are when I catch it.
-April 18th 2013

I'd tell you the wishes I made months ago,
but I still want them to come true.
Cause I wished for many things,
and I especially wished for you.

And I believe you're right about living,
cause you always know what I'm thinking.
And I believe I was right about your ocean,
cause I can stand without sinking.

I am the sailor not so alone,
and one day I will sail.
And we will be not so alone,
because you will have worn a veil.

Let's **** each other in the woods.
Like we said we would so long ago.

Let's drive stakes into each other's heart.
And watch red blood leak from the remnants.

Let's start a bonfire.
And sit together staring at the flame like we did that night in April.

Let's drive a convertible with the top down around the hills of California.
And ram into a diesel at top speed.

Let's both go to hell.
Cause I know we deserve it.

She called herself the Wolf.
She called herself the Phoenix.

The Wolf hunts.
The Phoenix lives.

Decide, bruja.
Do you **** or do you live.

Cause you've ended a lot of lives.
One too close for comfort.

I was falling asleep in class the other day,
And instead of jerking to catch myself from falling like our brains make us do,
I had a flashback to a time when Faith kissed me,
Her lips were below me and to my right.

Her favorite angle.
My favorite angel.

The dust of an afternoon nap crusts my eye,
It sprinkles down on my life and drags,
Slow and grudging, my legs can barely move,
To sink into coma, catatonic as a mountain,
Would be my dream come true, watching.
Waiting.


-March 27th 2013

Like an omen,
I'm free now,
Body yearning for it,
The vigorous tenacity of love,
Whispering its promises of blood, soothingly singing.
-
Well animated, atmospheric,
He never arrived home,
The strange figure that pursues,
Question how a man turned red.
He can't get home,
Make it rain, make it rain sad man.
-
Bring back memories hidden inside the shell,
Earlier attached,
Unmodified.
The rules are simple: win.

~March 25th 2013

My best friend died seventeen days ago.
I was strong. I was the lone strength in my family.
I mustered my muscles and carried his body to its destination.
And laid him down.
I paid the fees associated with death.

And I walked away.
Strong.


But in the last moments of seeing him being carried away,
My father reached out to feel his hair one last time.
Fourteen years of life, and this was goodbye.

I broke after that.
I let it out, all of the sobbing, the retching, the mourning.
My face was wet, my heart was wet.


And then I grew strong again.
I threw on my face of man,
And walked the world again.

Because it is better to have loved and died
Than to have died without it.

Of this, I firmly believe.

I can feel it,
Muscles pulling at my mouth,
My smile is lit,
I have my old mouth,
It smiles, it jokes, it breathes,
I am back,
Revenged my thieves,
Found their shack,
And killed them,
Strangled their necks,
Drained them,
Now I know what’s next,
To win back what was mine,
I’m not fearful to walk this line.

-May 1st 2013

You rip my heart out when you say his name,
When I see your dreams and there is no mirror,
When I know you tremble,
    And I can’t hold you,
When I know I need you,
    And you I,
        But you don’t let me in,
I’m curious,
    How will you make those amends.

-April 8th 2013

Silence by the waters edge.
An ultraviolet flower sits.
He leans over staring at his image reflecting.

Never could he have thought to go a day without her.
But here he sits alone, alive.
*I guess I really did it.

Not many see the lightning which arises,
It comes when she tilts her head just right,
The sun enters her stormy blue eyes,
And lays an egg soon to explode in a streak of light.

She was my new cloud, my new nimbus,
Before I even knew what was happening, I flew,
I sailed under a new mast, never doubting,
My body was so used to pain, this was new.

Could love exist without ache?
Could a vampire thrive without the stake?
Could hearts pump without any death?
Could lungs breathe without stolen breath.

-I don’t know when. (Before December 15th but after the 12th)

Some nights when I lay alone, awake,
I dream of you,
And my lungs emit an echo,
Like a dog missing his master,
I moan for you,
It’s like crying,
With no sound.
It’s like dying,
With no blood.

I crave the texture of your skin,
The color of your eyes,
    Even if I can’t see them at night,
It’s enough to know you’re there.

But I long for you,
And I hear the sound of my blood-
        Beating.
Because the flesh in my chest is dragged in your compass,
And the blood in my body is dragged to your presence,
And the hands at my side are dragged to your essence.

I miss you.

-July 20th 2013

I remember that morning,
It was raining,
It was pouring,
It tasted like tears,
    Mostly because I was crying
    And I was bleeding
        Because I punched a wall,
Because I saw it all.

I saw how the world could stop and walls could shatter,
I saw that birds could fly backwards,
And the dictionary was not large enough to pack all the words I longed to scream at the top of my lungs into a crowd of six thousand,
I saw that a brick wall doesn’t show the stain of blood very well,
But you can always see the remnant of torn flesh on its gritty surface.

The pain of that rain,
The pain of that blood,
The pain of those tears,
    Were nothing-
        nothing compared to what was taken from me.


And here I am months later.
My hand has healed, scarred over. A pink discoloration remains.
But the only pain I still feel is in these lines,
    The only thing that’s real.

-July 20th 2013

I worship the Sun.
His rays. His warmth. His life.
I wear Him on my chest. I wear Him in my mind.
Incandescent, luminescent, aught to behold.
Luxurious protection. Numerarious gifts.
Solis Maximus. White gold.
     ☼
The knight fears no night.
The Sun will guide me.
Walk with no shadow.
Walk with light to see.
     ☼
I am His solace.
And He is my life.
We are together.
We enforce the light.
     ☼
My strong armor rings.
When I stand with Him.
My sword’s golden gleam.
When His power wins.
     ☼
Honey of the air.
Father to all life.
Lead me through darkness.
Banish this night!
     ☼

Somebody sleeps in my bed alone.
I watch his lungs rise and fall as he rests.
I can hear his heartbeat tighten as he dreams terrible dreams.
I can see his hands clasp tightly when he thinks of his situation.
His legs move constantly, restless, because his thoughts are the same.

He wakes up every morning and hates.
He opens his eyes to terrible noises, and stares.
Why can't I sleep forever, thinking out loud. I can hear him.
Why can't I awake to her eyes and smile and hips like we dreamed?
He gets up. He touches his clock. It dies. He was statically charged. Again.

The water doesn't help. Or the soap.
His pity attempt to clean his long, tangled hair.
His half-awake thoughts while staring at the white walls.
He's thinking of women. And sleeping. And sleeping with them.
Or rather, he's thinking of her. Sometimes it's his "lover," sometimes it's his regret.

More sleep. Clothes.
A suit today, he wanted compliments.
A briefcase. **** I look snazzy. He smiles in the mirror.
Your perfect smile is fading. He interjects as if only to sting before leaving.
I watch him trudge out the door only to start freezing. But he's already frozen.

Thoughtlessly driving. No seat-belt.
At least I'll die in my funeral outfit if I do.
He arrives, throwing on a fake smile for the eyes around him.
Music. Mind numbing practice with his golden instrument's sound.
I watch him sit there, stretching his legs, listening with awakened ears.

"Why are you dressed up."
"Because." "Because why?" "Because I am."
Most people would quit there, but there must be a reason.
They keep pressing him. He gets annoyed, but not yet frustrated.
He smiles and answers their questions dishonestly. He always does.

A fake smile for everyone.
It would be so much easier to live this life,
If I could stop thinking of her. But I can't. And won't.
We spoke. We made new words, but no new promises.
Promises always hurt. Even when they're followed through.

He opens his phone.
Browsing for that photo of her.
New, in a sense, though it is still old her.
So young. So bold. So sad. So beautiful. Wanted.
Why won't she talk to me. She said we wouldn't do this!

"The oak and the cypress,
Do not grow in each-others' shade."
I know, old man, but when my tree thrives in darkness,
Why can it not find a properly emitting source, especially from her.
She was so close. She was my waking spark. And now she won't even...

The oak and the cypress.
Staring into different corners of the forest.
Still only feet apart.

I’d starve but I’m always hungry.
I’d hate if I could learn to stop loving.
I’d cut if my knife was sharp enough.
I’d create if I wasn't being destroyed.
I’d forget if I could look forward.
I’d live my day like my last but I know it isn’t.
I’d make time if I had any.

But I don’t.
And I can’t.
And I won’t.

I’d not have these feelings if I wasn’t so alone.
*But I am.

-Part 3, December 9th-

Jami Belle.
My True love.
She entered my life at random, miscellaneously speaking with her about her beauty, injecting more flirtation, as is my way.
Then one day I started to stress. The woman I was trying to court, the one with the gorgeous name too beautiful to be spoken, I was falling for her. Far too quickly. And I needed to let her know, I needed to advance the relationship.
I was panicking. I don’t know why, but, I chose a girl at random, the most beautiful I could see at the time, and I began to ask her advice. I wanted to know from a beautiful woman’s perspective what I should do.
She, Belle, told me I should just walk straight up to her and kiss her right on the face. The thought of it made me turn red with embarrassment. It was such a bold move, could it work?
I asked if she was serious, and sure enough she was. This (at the time) blonde woman I chose at random was telling me to march right up the this girl I was head-over-heels for, and kiss her.
I never did. But for some reason, I fell in love with Jami Belle. I still feel guilty for leaving the gorgeous name behind, but, this woman, was something more.

She sent me a preposterous photo of her making this awfully crude face akin to a duck. And my heart melted. This drop dead beautiful girl I don’t even know just exposed herself in one of the most vulnerable poses I’ve ever seen. I loved her. I wanted her. And I told her.
I didn’t pull my usual ******* and just, try to manipulate her into being in a relationship with me. I told her “I’m falling for you, Jami.”

The next couple weeks were spent wooing her. Constant messaging. Exchanging of truths and flirtations. Then one day, I was sitting in a park, surrounded by amazing music, perfect weather, and I told her “I’m sitting here, surrounded by beautiful people, and I can only think of you.”
I think that’s when she fell for me. Thank god. My chest exploded every night thereafter.

The next two months were spent in love. Complete love. Kissing and snogging and exchanging the most sacred of ourselves to each other. Promises. Embraces. Comfort. True love.
She was in my dreams, almost every night. I loved remembering those dreams. She was my everything.
We had some bumps, who doesn’t? She left me for a bit, we kissed and made up. She told me she couldn’t be rid of me. I melted.
-Note here, This isn’t some ****** teen drama. This may legitimately be the rest of my life.-
Time passed, we were good again. I told her, I asked her “Will you marry me someday?” She made sure I heard her yes.

I ended up with some jewelry for her, A red beaded bracelet and a ring of steel woven like a Celtic knot. I suppose It was a planned promise ring.

She and I... Started to go downhill. As the temperatures dropped, so did both of our emotions. We both seeped slowly into depression and neither knew what to do.
She lives many many miles away. Some nights I lay awake thinking that if she were just a little closer, it could have been better, but no. We both seeped lower.
I couldn’t get her my gifts. She couldn’t get me hers.
We slowed talking. Soon neither of us had anything to say.
She began to ignore me. I can’t blame her; life was terrible, and nothing could be said.
I was terrified of her. She could break my heart, my will, my name and my power at any given moment; through ignoring me, or responding curtly. I was horrified of what we had become.
This didn’t feel like the true love it once was.

Eventually I became convinced that our love was dead. I was in shambles. I cried a little every day thinking of it, deciding if it were true.
Then an  influential figure of mine got me to begin speaking on the subject. Soon, I poured every detail I cared to tell to him, about how I felt, was feeling and all of it. I cried so hard, I don’t know how to describe. I was hysterical. This was the worst I’d ever felt. And it was my fault. I was deciding to end it (with the major influence of this figure I was speaking with). He told me he was shocked, not thinking I was that deeply in love. Me said how he hadn’t felt a heartbreak, a TRUE heartbreak like this until he was in his 20s. I was only 16.
I poured the water. I decided.
It must be dead. She didn’t love me anymore.

I needed closure. I wrote to her, telling her things I shouldn’t have. Absolutes about our relationship, our present, and our future. I spoke to her of her strength, her perfection, how she will always be wanted and loved. It was impossible not to.
And I walked away. I tried to grow. I tried to learn.

I put bandages on my wounds. They began to heal. And scar. Scar deeply.

I got to the point where I could finally flirt with girls again. They jumped on that train and took much of a liking to me. It was nice to feel the attention again, but every time I did, I could really only remember the compliments and sayings and kisses Jami gave to me.
I was still in love.
I was trapped in a purgatory. I had said goodbye, forever; but my heart screamed for her.

Then the astounding happened. She texted me. “Marshall?”
I began to pour water from my eyes and sob silently. “Jami, I need you,” I screamed to myself.

It was slow. There were a lot of revelations between both of us. Truths, some great, others... destroying, obliterating. But she was back. She loved me.
I loved her.
Always, and forever.
The most gorgeous, the most perfect woman in the world. Mine.

Maybe yet.
--