your craving for life is insatiable
i watch you
devour the sun
you
attempt to drink
entire storms
the entire horizon
with
the way that you tilt back your head and stretch out your arms

I laid there
Forced awake by my mind's eye
and suddenly i realized i've always known you

i've always known it would be you
my heart
my whole
my happiness

dreadfully lost in your own world of worlds.
left behind and forgotten

have you met me yet?
I've met you.

here, there.

in my dreams you were always hiding
ever present in my newest nightmares

lost. so lost.

i'd care for you
i care for you

someday, you let me love you.
it's not here yet

sleep. no sleep.
lather, rinse, repeat

the stars whisper the future
they've already seen

the dress.
the dance.
the intamicy

I was her and you were he.
and i laid there

i laid there entangled in you.
i laid there entangled in me
i laid there

I don’t want to write poetry
I want to bottle the essence of
The vast inner-workings of the universe
And give it to you for free
I don’t charge money for my philosophy
I couldn’t be pushed to look at you
Unless it was deep in your eyes
And swallowing the words you speak
Digesting their meanings and subtle
Ironies
The inconsistencies of your desires and your actions
Are like diamond dust on my tongue
Tears upon realizing your forgotten pain
Fermenting and sloshing around in that
Hidden belly of depth
The intense turmoil, the rapturous escape
Blend them on slow so that I may see
Your blues and reds trace fingerprints of
Purple across the glass
Oh and the times where you forgot
Something important,
And your heart skips a beat and your hair stands
A little
Your face flushes, oh the pinks
And once you find it,
In my arms
I was waiting the whole time
Impatiently at moments
But all the while,
I just longed to drink up your sighs of relief
Your giddy smiles piling joy after joy within me
And those moments where you are about to fall asleep
And you **** awake suddenly,
Your eyes, still distant and dreamy
And the slow release as you lay back down
On my chest
And I don’t care that my arm went numb 15 minutes ago
As long as I don’t disturb you
The things I do for love
Or more like..
The things I do because I love

But I’m still here
No doubt, lonely and without
Any proper ventilation
For my soul is gaseous and restless
My thoughts are emaciated and
And my feelings are callused and unbending
I sometimes, don’t feel anything any more
And that is what I fear,
That I may shrivel, haven’t created even a fraction
Of this dream
This highly unrealistic yet truthful dream in which
Some form of power, even in fibers and threads
Pulls my chin up to gaze in wonder

The moon rises,
In time with a sunken ship
Out of the depths,
For its nightly voyage.

As this titanic vessel
Stirs the tranquil waters of the dark,
The crescent above guards it
From the inevitable light to come.

And as time spirals back to day
The sun lurks unto the sea,
Recoloring the waves
From the night's black to day's blue-green,

The celestial orb of night
Slows its chase of the boat
Whose nighttime travel
Quiets to drop anchor,

Forever blanketed
By sundown.
Forever led by the moon.

I write some words
Full of suffering
Of a wounded heart
A broken soul
So moving and yet
blase

I am not this pain
that filters through
It is part of me
but it is not me
I am so much more
so much more than pain
I am love, and understanding
laughter and wonder
I find so much beauty around me
yet when I write
All I speak of is pain

This is not who I want to be
This pain does not own me
even if it is what I feel right now
pain is temporary
It will pass quickly
but my life will not
At least not as fast
I am full of love
even if it is marked
by suffering
I know I am not alone

These words
that I am writing
they are my pain
and are part of me
but they are not all
of me

one night or midafternoon you fell asleep
and snored lightly in my ear.
i stroked your hair (it was longer then)
and thought of my love-lorn words
hijacked by this impermanent sleeper.

i started to laugh and you got lost in my chest
but you said it'd be "a good way to go."
and i heard the sincerity, cheap as silence,
like the first time you drunkenly called me darling
and it was steel wool exfoliating my atriums.

i would rather write about the frivolity
of a cigarette in a hot tub with strangers
and the absurdity of dripping sinuses
or a manifesto for the exasperatingly mediocre
but my words are full of you.