To catch a lavender butterfly would-
secure my place in history , speed
of upmost notoriety
A gold medallion leaving a red impression
at my muscular neckline , most fleet of foot
Olympian of all time
Alas winged marvel , thy record ne'er broken ,
for I've grass waiting for the mower , trash cans
seeking the road , Sunday newsprint to explore*...

When the cold people come out, come out from their earthy graves,
They creep to your windows, and slip under your doors.

When the cold people come inside, come inside to reach into your whole,
They flood your mind, and rush your soul.

The cold people come into your memories, make scenes seem more sinister than they are,
They make you lash out, leaving to others only fresh scars.

The cold people cause you to leave,
when you shouldn't,
when you usually wouldn't,
pushing you to drastic measure you thought you couldn't.

The cold people are the memories of you, the body of me you buried in your yard.
The pictures we burned, the lesson you never learned.

They only come for me, they will not set me free. But I know you refuse to face yourself, so I hope you're happy, so ignorantly free.

When you see them together you're very aware that's love.
When she defend him.
When he defend her.
Yes, that love.

The way they hold hands out in public.
When others afraid too.
The way the simply kiss one another even in public too.
That's love.

Others, not envy.
But do hope to love like them.
They way the do  for one another so unselfishly.
That's love.

Captures hearts, with words from your lungs. Gasping captivating waves, as the tides come in and out. I look out to shore but don't see my....captain.

And then Jesus kissed Judas Iscariot on the forehead

                   He knew he had been betrayed
                        But he loved him anyway

i lose track of time
and loosen that doubt of mine
beginning with a sip
and ending up gulping
every last drip
from countless cans