You carried the scent of a heavy summer rainfall with you
everywhere you went,
dropping hurricanes from your pockets for strangers
who have only known spring showers.
I didn’t know it was possible to fall in love with a storm.
Every time your cloudless eyes met mine
I felt a swell in the back of my throat,
as if I had drank too much seawater and you just kept staring
until I began to cough up the entire
Pacific Ocean.
You told me that this is what it meant to be with you,
to be with a nihilist.
You held other worlds on your fingertips
and slipped them under my tongue,
my blood becoming bellicose within it’s own veins.
The parabola of my pupils stretched until they became quasars,
I had never known energy like this before.
Your lips twitched into a most complacent grin at my lack
of self-possession as I writhed in the rapacious wake of the river.
Everything around me shimmered
with the light of 1,000 stars
and I heard centuries of music in your laughter.
I was a foreigner in a different world.
That night we made love with the intensity
of 50 lightning bolts striking an erupting volcano
and it was the first time you told me you loved me.
It was the only time you meant it.
We anesthetized each other so much
that you became insusceptible
while I became hypersensitive.
You carved kisses into my skin
and they were wonderful
but I was starting to bleed out.
But you couldn’t even feel my nails
as I tried to dig my way into your heart.
I had never wanted to live inside a person so badly,
but you can’t make homes out of people.
You can’t make homes out of addicts.

a lone star
stuck between galaxies,

                                                                                      watches the other stars
                                                                    wishing for a super nova to pass
                                                                     waiting for its chance to impress

as who can be impressed by the shine,
if nobody can see it?

                                                                                            maybe they can see
                                                                                     they just want to ignore
                                                                                             they ignore the last
                                                                                      glimmer of personality

the universe is never ending,
but forever this star is alone,
trying to impress, those who
can’t see, the hopeless
glimmer that wishes to be a shine
but that doesn’t want to be

annoying.

Did you find,
All you were so solemnly looking for,
Did you see the reasons,
Behind the confusion...
Did you know the answers lie in the back's of your eyelids,
Drifting toward a time,
Of frivolous desire,
Towards to initiation of some being,
Sort,
Or...

Did all the life just get suddenly drained from you very essence,
As you are guided,
Or are you guiding?
Who is what you are already?
Is it something more or less than you are?

You filled me to the brim with all your tendencies to fly
To put my head in places somewhere deep inside the sky
And maybe I'll return to you a bigger dreamer still
I'll whisper something pretty to forget that I am ill
I'm sick for all the moments I spent looking through your thoughts
When you would lay beside me and the world would be forgot
I haven't been this tired since I fell asleep in you
Enough with all the flying and with all the thinking too