what shimmering dust collects in your eyes?
and what is it, you do, to cease my silent outcries?
painfully majestic, the way that you glide,
when I view you, so serene unknowing,
I regress to past lives, to search for you inside.

you shake the earth, or my knees, with
the whirlwinds from your words, it seems
and I am but onlooking here,
you are hope, I'll stand here a bit longer
transfixed.

vibrance crumbling earth when you move
this world was not made to contain you
the beacons you use to burn with rays through;
stop me short, causing quakings in self, strewn.

your soft sighs crack the foundation beneath us
your sweaty grip on my soul, makes stars splinter
the reason that I breathe through this pain and must,
is to view your splendor once again as time ripples
and all but you is rust.

trembling to keep sight with yours,
this is the hardest thing I've done.
blood is falling from me in pools
but I would die to face the sun.

what are all of these webs
and why are there so many
twirling like a wave ebbs,
they are binding and unfriendly

where have all the flames left
I found some deep within me
I sought a fire, it was long spent
only left there was the chimney

I asked you if your soul burned
you replied, it does so plenty,
but when I asked if it was earned,
your shallow eyes, gazed gently

lo we walk and climb up hills
and dance to let out forceful shrills
contained in cages built of sweat
and sorrow, woes, and true regret

slowly like a car wreck
starting low and deeper than you know exists
a vacuum ball of more than rage so quick
gnawing things you do not know
or why they feel so overcoming
eyes haze at these times
pain like razors chime
and all around is fine
it's not the world or its beauty
it is something beneath the skin
accelerate, this should work again
needle moving and lights start blurring
that growing is melancholy
weaving chess moves at 110
little room for error but I'm alive again
and do not want to get off the ride
blending in again with the sane
I enjoy driving, it is an escape

your eyes closed, you weren't breathing, or barely.
I didn't think about it at the time
how did I see your eyes? Why wasn't it scary?
this proved, I had maybe died.

you see, numbness speaks sometimes
and when I thought on it and didn't feel
I knew somewhere, I was sad inside
but which path had led me here?

it would be hard to retrace steps,
especially without a torch,
and in this darkened depth
I may forever search

I don't feel claws so that's a start
but maybe my teeth are sharper
my leathered skin letting less light in
I wonder if it's also my heart
I think I'll keep it later to ponder
lest I stray, further when i begin