If you are going to shine in this world,
it is essential to know:

You will cast shadows.

People will hate you for
the darkness,
instead of praising you
for clarity.

If you are uncomfortable when you look in the mirror,
keep in mind:
We spent thousands of years
trying to convince the earth
she was flat.

We wrote her maps as evidence of the things we saw;
and she believed them.
She cried tsunamis, and had earthquake breakdowns.

Keep in mind: the Sun never gave up hope.
The earth will keep spinning and breathing
the star-dusty space void of encouragement.

Next time you look in the mirror
and second-guess your potential divinity,
remember you will keep shining and living.

Because the Sun is out there
believing in you,
compensating for lack of the human capacity
to treat each other empathically.

You don’t need proof or approval
to be exactly what you are;
Eventually everyone will see
your infinite beauty.

Your perfection is an illusion.
My faults are real.

'Trust' is the stitching
that holds my fragile
parts together.

Whispers of what we share,
like confetti in a breeze,
cannot be recovered
once carelessly set free.

Don't release me to the wind,
I beg you.

~~~

The rouge from your supple lips
decorate my face still.

It's warmth radiates from
my cheek as ignited senses
beg for more.

The gentle red contours tingle
through my flesh as it etches
it's imprint onto my very soul.

You've conquered me with one gentle blow.
My only purpose for continued breath,
is to be kissed by you once more.

~~~

We once walked these streets together
at a time when 'forever' was something real.
Our kisses were gentle pecks, here and there.
Missing our aim, on occassion,
but sweet with a purity I long for still.

We didn't lie about our dreams together.
We just bent our desires to fit our wishes.
Our ignorance caught up to us soon enough.
I took the high road while you descended
down an easier path.

I recall that first morning so long ago.
Awaking to a vacancy of empty fitted sheets
and tears that replaced the echo of our routine.
The sounds of our love absorbed by
the plaster walls, still jingle at times.

The pain is gone,
and tender memories remain.
The high road I treaded upon gives
clear views of our long lost past.
But, only the lonliest of broken hearts
can travel that path.

The streets are quiet now.
And I remain,
still in love
and never the same.

~~~

"Men are accessories and not necessities,"
she proudly remarked with a
delicious smug.

"Well then,"  I replied.

"You should strap me on
until you've worn me out!"*

;-)

~~~

We have this habit of making homes
out of people who tend
to burn any moment.

And we keep collecting the ashes,
putting them in jars,
hoping to save what little remains.

We made ourselves believe that other people
are remedies; prescribing—injecting ourselves with drugs
that walk and talk and breathe

And I have long since realized that we have seas inside us,
and there are a thousand shipwrecks aching for freedom,
but we hold on to every damaged piece.

"Will you pray with me"
All heads bowed and all eyes shut
But I did not close my eyes
So I wouldn't miss the sun slipping over the horizon to nestle under a bed of deep pink and purple blankets
More of a glimpse of the divine than anyone else saw in that moment
All of them focused on the blank dark screens behind their eyelids
Searching for a God that was right before my eyes