It’s like standing before a sun that pauses at the horizon before spilling out over the ocean
Or when you find yourself alone with Hephaestus and you know there are demons just beyond the firelight
Even as if it were one of those gifts you receive simply because the person saw it and thought of you
Yeah. It’s like that. That’s when you know. When those ancient celestial photons actually fight to be the light in her eyes. And you fall face first for the person she is when she thinks no one is watching.

Where I woke upon a grassy knoll
Took off my shoes to take a stroll
I stopped over there to pack my bowl, smell her hair, and pay the troll.

I stumbled here and over there
Not that you or I should care
But I’ll have you know I’m quite aware, not really though, you can’t compare.

Yes I know, it makes no sense
I present this bowl in my defense
Just hit it once and you’ll know whence, the evidence of my pretense.

“Good hit? Great. Yeah I was just trying to say I passed out in the park wearing women’s shoes. It was nice when I woke up so I took a walk. Smoked under the weeping willow, paid somebody’s parking meter before the maid got there, I took a header crossing the street to get here, and I wanted you to smoke with me so you could tell me it’s good and I’m not crazy. And you’re out of beer.”

I’ll tell myself not to look back.
That there’s nothing there.
Nobody to wave me goodbye.
Still though.
I will.
And I’ll have to reconcile with that part of me that is laughing his sick ****** head off.
So in spite of his laughter.
I’ll stare at the shoreline.
In defiant hope that someone.
Someone will come down to say goodbye.
And he’ll keep laughing as the shoreline fades off into the horizon.
And I lower my head.
Resigned to his eternal torment.
This devil on my mind.

Look it here
Made you a snack
Just a lil sumtin
From way out back

Now listen here
Don’t draw your string
Just settle down
Cause here’s the thing

You’re not here
You’re over there
How’re ya now?
I don’t care

Accept the fact
You could now be wrong
About yourself
Don’t think too long

Laugh a lil
At yourself in kind
Hate begets hate
Keep that in mind

Before you speak
Do they care
Or would you
If standing there

Nothings life
Is worth less than yours
If it breaths
Dress it’s sores

Once you’ve got
What it is you need
Leave the rest
And ditch the greed

Savor each moment
For what it’s worth
Whether it be death
Or birth

And finally

Karma isn’t ******* real
The universe cares not
You really thinkin Saturn
Gives a **** about what you got

Those moments of vulnerability. When hope stops on the precipice and they'd give anything for that feeling to be snatched from them like a falcon and a mouse.
It's in those minutes when if you look beyond their skin and block out what they're saying. Focus as if your trying to find a snow fox in a grove of pines on the morning after a snowstorm.
You see just how fragile the heart can be. You can practically run your hand over the scars. That's how you learn what it is that can hurt that person the most.
Not to sound like a sadist. But let's be honest. It's up to you how you use this knowledge.
Trust is a funny thing.

I was eating this peach while putting together a pump and forgotten I'd already lit a burner when I said "***** it, I'm dead inside anyway" so I took a hit and started thinking about you in that time and me in that place and as soon as I finished that peach it dawned on me.
It wasn't that I wasn't good enough for you.
It's that I'm still not good enough for me.
So I went ahead and settled on the Apricot Kush because it keeps me from thinking about whether or not I made a mistake when I said "Can I get the salmon with a baked potato?" I mean I could have eaten my twin in the womb, I honestly don't remember her name Ellen I think anyway.
**** the night, **** the moon, **** everything that ends too soon.

Oh woe is the heart that is denied that which would give it a reason
Hath thou discovered my will I mighteth made the season
Tis not to be this mystery, this bane of loneliness
Exceeds my grasp, just out of my class, forever in distress

We spend our lives emotionally counting coup on one another.
Hoping to get away unscathed.
The trick I discovered.
Is to slit the throat of everything inside that they could touch.
Don’t move the carcasses.
Leave them as a reminder of what could be, and what was.

Fire and whiskey, and here I am
Alone with thoughts of you
To bask in what's left of the day
And to wonder just what is true

I gotta warn ya, before I scorn ya
It isn't what you think
My love for you could fade away
With just another drink

Though while it last
For what it is
Which isn't really much
Let's pretend for just a minute
That you remember me as such

I imagine I'd make a good dog owner.
Because I wouldn't establish myself as it's owner.
The dog and I would be equals.
I'd let it up on the couch.
Take it for car rides.
Reward it with treats.
And teach it to be disgusted by children to the point where it starts gagging whenever a child comes around. It'd revile them for the ineptitude and ignorance.
I could teach it how to sit and how pass judgement on people before getting to know them based simply on their hairstyles.
We'd go to the park and play frisbee then we'd get high and mock others openly.
I'd probably name it something cool like Cerebrus and then whenever anyone asked what it means the dog and I would look at each other and laugh while pointing at the inquisitor.

So here at last it’s come to pass these things we weren’t expecting
Shining a light on certain things of which we were neglecting
Streets are barren, save the Karen’s fighting over tissue
Who would’ve thought wiping our knots could turn out to be an issue

The government’s lying, people are dying, but some of us have Hulu
I’m down to watching documentaries on that man named Shaka Zulu
Coyotes are back to eating cats, no one to chase them off
If they could get sick, you could do it real quick, probably with a cough

Maybe we’ll see, I mean you and me, just how fragile we really are
Just how this tiny, little virus can leave a nasty scar
Though it seems that hope got sick and is in the ICU
I wish you the best, unlike the rest, who have come to pay their due

I don’t suppose they’ll ask what happened or where the music went
Just like they never asked what happened the day I woke up bent
And of course why would they wonder why about that day I smiled
I told them all to wait right there and I’d be back in a little while
A winter or two came and went and yet I hadn’t returned
There’s happiness in my absence and this I know they learned
So now I sit and wait it out as drunk and high as ****
This life of mine I wish it done cause I am out of luck

I wake up with a cigarette clinging to my lips like a wee man hanging from a cliff.
I relieve him momentarily by swilling a beer.
I peel myself off my leg and hope my aim is true.
If my leg starts getting wet.
I know something’s off.
General Tso stops in for breakfast whilst I judge the breast of the weather *****.
Fill up the worlds tiniest salad bowl before setting fire to it.
My eyes redden like morning suns before an afternoon storm.
There was something I was suppose to do today.
Or was it yesterday?
I’m hoping tomorrow never gets here so that I don’t have to stress about whatever it was I forgot.
Imagine that?
Wishing for death as opposed to having a memory return.
**** yeah.
Cast some thoughts into the ether, burn a bridge, and stare into the sun for a while.
One more cigarette before bed.
One more night alone.

Some of you just don’t like Christmas. You’d rather it just *******. Anytime you hear Jingle Bells, you change the station and scoff.

Perhaps it has been ruined, by things that happened then. So while others are laughing and singing, you’re only thinking of when.

Was it a touchy old pastor? Did a reindeer **** on your shoe? Did your elf on a shelf touch himself while smiling and staring at you?

Maybe a coked out ****** in tights tried to bite off your tongue. Just as the snow was falling and those church bells had been rung.

How can you not like the lights? The smell of snow in the air? Is it because you’re spiritually dead and can’t muster the courage to care?

Maybe you had a bad mom, who wore ****** clamps in front of your friends. Who wore acid wash jeans everyday, no matter the fashion trends.

How can you not like the sounds? Of fires that crackle and snap? Of cookies and cider and cinnamon **** and all that Christmasy crap?

Well whatever your ***** *** reason for hating this season so. Please take your ****** egg nog, and go stand outside in the snow.

It should go without saying,
without thought of delaying,
that if you go without saying
you’re only delaying
what could possibly be something to say.
Conversely should you stay
with something to say
and then say what you need to say.
You could then say you didn’t delay or waste the day having gone without saying your say.

I never got that sunset with you and now my skin feels heavy. Auburn moons and crimson leaves, yes. Not one sunset though. Dragging my quill like an oxen with its plow, my hands as blind as they are always seem to find you.
Tell me again. While I can still hear you. As if it were a whisper from the other room. That something you say from under your breath because the power that keeps you from saying it is failing you.
It feels bound at times. As if hindered by barbed wire. Like a lamb that was frightened by the storm only to find itself ensnared. The more it struggles, the worse it gets.

There’s nothing here.
I’m just trying to save you a trip.
Become a hedonist, a pacifist, a sardonic mop.
Just don’t bother going any further than where you are now.
I’ll send you a pic.
Don’t bother thanking me.
It’s nothing, really.

I’m going to write you a poem
This one is just for you
It’ll be yours to have and hold
And I promise you it’s true

I can rest my eyes upon a thousand setting suns
The dressings of fire and water splayed across an ethereal landscape
Each one a symphony unto its own in splendor
And with the conviction of a hurricane
The only ones I’ll remember
Are the ones I watched with you

Next time.
Next time someone says “I love you”.
Ask them why.
If they say something to the effect of
“because you make me feel blah blah blah”.
Run.
They’re looking for something that makes them feel a particular way.
So it’s not you they love, they love the feeling you bring about in themselves.
If someone says “you make me feel warm, safe, and happy”.
Well then you can be replaced with a blanket, a gun, and a bag of ****.

It’s not your job to make someone feel a certain way.
Love is a constant unconditional thing.
It’s not hindered by feelings.
Feelings are flawed, ever changing, and easily misconstrued.

Actual love is evident in the giving.
The giving of yourself.
You have a garden of flowers.
You love this garden.
So you devote time to it.
You nurture it, support it.
You’re giving of yourself regardless of how you feel in the moment.
The garden becomes as much a part of you as you do it.
It can’t go on as it is without you and you can’t let it die.

I've been around long enough to know what happens when.
And unfortunately I have no problem remembering now and then.
So with that being said I think it's best that I should be alone.
It is in me being me for which I must atone.

My pen is a wee bit cold, so I don’t think that I have long.
And since I can’t write you a poem,
I thought you might fancy a song.

It’s about a girl born with no hands and the boy she couldn’t hold.
The boy was deaf and blind, it’s just how the story’s told.

She’d wrap her arms around him, and thump his back with her stubs.
He’d screech in terror and find a way to run into some shrubs.

Sometimes you’d see him feeding her at the ice cream shoppe.
Just jabbing her face with a spoon while she cried and screamed “just stop”.

For Christmas he bought her gloves and she got him a dog.
It fell asleep around the fire and he mistook it for a log.

What baffled a lot of folks, is that their names were Betty and Stan.
For the love a soft and supple goat, Betty was the man.

Word has it they got married, and Stan well she said their vows.
And Betty he just stood there, spouting random howls.

They live out in the woods now, their feetless kids play there in the mud.
When you try to talk to them, they just stare out into space and chew on their cud.

I never got to see my home
They told me about it
And I never got to feel the sand that looks like snow
I wonder sometimes
Who I’d be if I’d ever gotten to see it
That place where the ocean meets the sky
Perhaps that’s why
I never felt like I was where I belonged
Because
I never got to see my home

If y’all could give me control
Of time and space
I promise to only fold it one time
I swear I won’t mess it up
Please
It’s just that
I’ve been hurting a lot lately
And if I could just hold her again

Looking back
Remembering how it slipped between your fingers
Like that golden sand that you imagined was real
And even though the shimmer fades
As the day slinks off
And the wolves start serenading the moon
That one grain of sand remains in the palm of my hand
Perhaps it’s hope
Or just a reminder
Of a dream unrealized

I’ll be shaving my ******* while you’ll be licking your wounds.
We finished the whiskey while you were praying to moons.
I dug up your garden and sang you a song in the rain.
You laughed while I cried and told the night she’s insane.
I chewed on your *** and held your head as you cried
You told me you loved me then you told me you lied
So I sold off my ego and drank till I couldn’t see
You asked for whom does the bell toll and I said for thee
I’d ask for a minute so I could come down from this high
I went to get sober and then you said goodbye

Somewhere between the cigarettes, cherry blossoms, and bourbon
In that dream that happens after the alarm goes off
When the sun says goodnight and the moon says good morning
In the forest of trees scarred by declarations of love long lost
Wading in and out of hope and resolve
These are the places where my thoughts find you
Where my heart keeps you

I long for the day the wind blows my way and carries my ashes along.
Over the pines and boundary lines to become a part of the song.
At last I’m lost, again to the frost of those things better left unsaid.
Alone in my rapture my will short on stature, it won’t matter to be dead.

Some had life ****** upon them
And they resent that it's called a gift
Suffering life with little so hope
It starts to feel like a grift

They don't tell you it doesn't get easier
And there's no mention of a return
It's just survival for the sake of survival
How do you live and not learn

Billions of carbon based lifeforms
All just meandering about
Thinking they've got all the answers
Not a one of them has any clout

They didn't ask for an invitation
And they wouldn't have come anyway
Though they were more or less kidnapped
And for now it's here they must stay

Between the sets and the rises. In those shadowy parts of the world we take for granted.
I can lose myself between the tone of your skin and the realizations that cause ones heart to pause.
I'd like to shake the earth like a snow globe and see where I stand in the ashes.
Better off then than now or at least now and then.

The snow drifts lie like bears asleep as the moon she tries and sees
Through the clouds that waltz before her and the forest through the trees
I wander amongst the ruins of what now seems but a dream
Where once our spirits danced like leaves cast upon a stream
The shadows change their shapes and wants before my watchful gaze
I run my fingers down your note and think back to those days
We’d built a fire together that should have burned a thousand years
Unfazed by winds of wonder withstanding doubt and tears
You said you’d make it clear to me on how I could win your heart
That you’d write me a note explaining how we’d never part
You’d gone to town that mornin and left me before I woke
Perhaps if you’d waited for me, my heart would not be broke
I found the note a lil wet and the ink had run it’s course
It looked like your handwriting if you’d written it in Norse
It’s what should happen when one tucks the note under a coaster
Your unclear directions are why my ****’s stuck in this toaster
Oh, and I burnt down the house

I don’t care if you see me. I’d much rather you see you through me.
Don’t think me a fool. There’s no pedestal for you there.
Take solace instead. That there’s no guillotine either.
It’s just a tempest. A swirling **** of colors and lights.
You could say that it’s like watching the northern lights. While lying on a bed of nails.
And what you don’t see, that pangs me the most.
Is the capacity you have to make others feel better about themselves.
Just by being you.

So check this out.
I go to this bar one night.
Usual place I’d avoid because I just couldn’t imagine there’d be anything for me there.
I’m scanning the place like I’m secret service
And I see her
It was like my heart had seen a ghost.
I’m talking straight ****** and Shaggy a “gh gh gh gh ghost!”
Everything in me just came to a screeching halt.
And none of it was wearing a seat belt.
So it came rushing forward hitting me in the back of my head.
It wasn’t so much how she looked.
Her smile, her ***, none of that non-sense.
It was just her.
Save for every molecule in my body simultaneously exploding at the speed of light; nothing was going to stop me from meeting her.
As cringe as it reads in text as it does to hear it in person, it was magnetic.
I made no presumptions about her.
I didn’t need to.
Because from somewhere, from some point in time. I knew her.
Whether we died in a tragic gondola accident somewhere in the Alps back in the 60’s.
Or perhaps we were banging in a clay pit in Pompeii when Vesuvius erupted.
I don’t know.
The draw to know her, was, is, and will probably be the strongest force I’ve ever felt.
Every second I spent around her was what I imagine walking in space is like.
Just surrounded by starlight, breathlessly in awe.
My will didn’t survive that adventure,
and that’s ok.
I’ll be alright.
Would I go back?
Would I do it all again?
Does ****** want a ****** Snack?

I don’t have anyone to write for, or to-
I do my best writing when it’s inspired
So now it’s just muscle memory.
If I don’t write my fingers will go on strike.
I think they’re sad though, like me
They know that with no one to write to
It’s all in vain
Unfortunately, it’s all they know how to do.
They don’t get held.
So, they write.
If for no other reason than spite.
They write.

We can share anecdotes and spit. I can tell you my thoughts on the whole Achilles Patroclus thing.
You can ignore what I'm saying, wait for me to stop talking, and then ask me what's for dinner.
But.
I can't be that guy.
Because I'm not that guy.
I'm the other guy.
The one you never think about until that one song comes up on your playlist.
And I hope you smile to yourself.
I mean I wouldn't.
I just get angry whenever I think about me. Then I leave an angry voicemail with that ***** at the library and I feel better.
You though.
I hope you're smiling.

Draw a circle around me.
Now go stand over there.
You can have the rest of the world.
I only want what you think I deserve.

You said you’d be there
Your words fell on me like the tears of a mourning sun
Who weeps for the raven who had no moon to talk to the night before
I remember
Because it gave me hope
A candle I could cup in my hand against the winds
So that one day, should I survive the rains, I could bring the light back to you
And we could finally set the earth on fire

The snow was deep but she had found the sacred burial plot
An ancient granite archway over a tomb that read only Cain
She looked up at the crescent goddess and closed her eyes
Embers arose from the ground and danced about her
She whispered her spells fluidly and a fog crept in from the moors
Her freshly sharpened teeth bite her lip until blood spills
Whispering one last spell she takes a smile upon herself
The stones supporting the archway begin to fall out of place
Embers brighter than before envelop her arching form
She feels a surge of warmth emanating from her core
Granite falls and breaks, the smell of rot permeates the air
She collapses to the ground her red dress splayed out
A dark figure emerges from the shadow of the tombs embrace
It draws a deep breath to take in its new time and world
Kneeling down beside the beautiful raven haired woman
It traces its ashy finger down her cheek to her lips
Long had its hunger suffered against itself in vain
Her neck slightly throbbing with every faint breath
The silhouette of her body like the angels who dance with fire
A shimmering of moonlight catches its eye against its will
A gold clasp on a leather bag she’d brought along with her
Securing the bag to itself it found amongst the items currency
It took the gold and stood up before dropping the purse on her face
Then went up the road to Dairy Queen for a chili dog
It met some tourist and got a ride into town on their way through
It set about the next night feasting on  virginal blood
Forgetting all about the lady back at the tomb
And it lived happily ever after

There might come a time when you think of me
If so, put the sun to my back.
Can you see me?
Am I smiling?
Just remember, it’s probably because I’m there with you.
Reveling in the moment.
You meant so much to me,
I hope you knew that.
I’m just going to leave you with this lil message.

I miss you too.

Does it warm you
To think me cold
Cast down
Settling like starlight
Upon a landscape of pelted glass
Broken and scattered
Save for those few moments
Wherein the truth fell out
And pour over your eyes
Like a warm spring rain
Was I there
In the room