If I was a mountain

That soared towards the sky,

With craggy snow caps

And stormy grey eyes-



Then you'd be the clouds

That swaddled my peak,

That silenced my thunder

When I tried to speak.



If I was the earth

The desert, in fact:

With arid dry soil

And mud, baked and cracked-



You'd be the rain

The downpour that soothed;

The balm to my bruises,

Relief to my wounds.



If I was the Moon

In the indigo night,

With stars as my blanket

And silver; my light-



Well you'd be the Sun

Just always behind

That lent me your glow

And caused me to shine.

Loneliness is saying hi to people you see from your class.
Loneliness is hanging out with people but not getting anything out of it.
Loneliness is connecting with someone but you never see them again.
Loneliness is feeling alone when surrounded by people.

Tell me
you know
your blood runs
red and red
just like mine,
you don’t have
enough gold
in your stardust
to convince me
of anything
otherwise.
But the sky:
it might blind me.
It’s still grey,
blue and blue.
You must know
the color of
your own eyes
by now.

I adore the way the
Presence of a toddler; little

Diaper steps from something to
Something else

Softens the eyes of grandmothers
Smiling between themselves

Remembering their grown
Children

As not.
Paper-skin hands

Veins of deepest ancient blue
Holding love so old

For small things.
New things.

Fresh, little human being
Royalty in our eyes.

Commanding
Without knowing.

Heart itself on two
Tiny legs.

It reeks here.
Pungent yet sweet.
Like.
Accepting an unwanted apology.
Woe to the tragically gracious.
For they know not of rest.
As sharks circle about.
Devouring the essence spewed from an unclosing artery.
Until all that's left.
Is a vacant shell.
Not even worth the effort to finish off.
Gluttonuos beings.
The both.
Unknowingky knowing the need.
Of eachother.
For the cause of such suffering.
Bleeds into the affect given.
Effecting the rest.
Distortion needs no introduction.
A slight.
Handing over the next.
Riddled with more questions.
And even as the last die.
Is cast.
A tear falls.
Probably.

i once loved a boy
who didn't find solace in my arms
but in his drugs

Opia. Noun. The ambiguous intensity of looking into someone's eyes, which can fell simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

As you lie in my arms, watching the television, you don't notice that my undivided attention is focused on you. Something I've been dreaming of for weeks, and it's finally come true. Even better, from your angle, you can't see me staring into your eyes, so I don't feel the nervous compulsion to turn away. Whether directly or not, I could drink in your eyes with mine, for hours, and they would be among the best hours of my life.
Then there's the other hand, held tightly by trepidation. I love the prospect of your eyes staring into mine, but it's not without its fears. I'm afraid you'll see all the pain and fears that I've spent the past seven years working to overcome. I'm afraid you'll see all the insecurity and doubts I have about myself. I'm afraid you'll see all the words that I long to whisper in your ear, but can't, because I'm terrified of scaring you away. I'm afraid you won't like the fact that, behind these eyes lies only pictures and thoughts of you. But most of all, I'm afraid that, unlike me, who loves every detail, and lives for moments like these, you won't love the things you see. I long for the day when you stare happily into my eyes, but I'm frightened that you won't enjoy the secrets they reveal.