THE WAY IN WHICH INSECURITY MAKES A HOME OF MY BODY,
LEAVING HER PILES OF SELF-DOUBT AND ANXIETY LYING ON THE FLOOR.
AS I CONTINUE TO STUMBLE AWAY FROM MIRRORS,
TRYING TO FIND A REFLECTION SHE HAS NOT BECOME A PART OF,
SHE REVEALS TO ME,
THAT THE MIRROR DOES NOT HAVE TO BE CRACKED IN ORDER FOR ME TO LOOK BROKEN.
I ASK HER WHY SHE HAS NOT MOVED OUT ALREADY,
AND SHE SAYS IT IS NOT HER FAULT THAT I ALWAYS LEAVE THE DOORS OPEN.
I TELL HER OF HOW I MISPLACED THE KEYS IN THE HANDS OF PEOPLE WHO COULD NOT LOVE ALL THAT I AM.
AND WITHOUT HESITATION,
SHE ASKS ME WHY I HAVE NOT YET CHANGED THE LOCKS.

let's make
a tiny little place
a quiet shady spot
under a
striped umbrella
for you and me
to watch
the world go by

First of all, congratulations.
You are alive and able
to read these words of mine
and that in itself is no small feat.
I feel as if people these days
do not recognize
that life is a great accomplishment.
So to you I acknowledge your due credit
and I celebrate you. Cheers.
I write this at 4 am
with a tall glass of cold coffee
and the intent of convincing you
that you are not insignificant.
Think back to the history
of our own terra firma:
there have been countless species
that once roamed here,
empires have come and gone,
inventions have been made obsolete,
attacks and raids and mutinies
have littered our history.
You have survived all of it.
Think about it.
If everything in the universe didn’t happen
exactly like it already has,
then everything would be different
and maybe you wouldn’t be reading this
but you are.
You are the perfect result
of all your ancestors
surviving through the horrors
of Earth’s past.
You are an arrangement
of old stardust and new hope
and with every sunrise you see,
or every breath you take
you’ve set a new record
and I challenge you
to always
break it again.

So sensitive
And sentimental
You touch my heart
With all that you are

I once felt hopeless
The way you look at me
Leaves me breathless

As I write this
I understand
That no words can give justice
To what is happening between us right now

As a man of words
You leave me speechless
And yet our connection says more than any that have come before

I realize now that I have been lost for years
And I finally feel like I have found my way back home
Your light guided me to somewhere safe
A place I can call my own

Whatever fire I've walked through
Which led me to this
This point in time and place
To you
Was more than worth it
You were the passion I've been searching for

I had to force my lanky legs
a few steps back
And touch only with my eyes
bathe you in the unknowing caress
Of my gaze.
On days like today
I pretend I'm the vivacious wind
Curling in soothing torrents around your face
Brushing past your neck like
Long lost kisses.
I exist in the echo of the scene
one year earlier
where I would have pressed against the skin there
Chasing away the goosebumps
With shivers of my own.

There's something about dark mornings,
That make kissing so exquisite,
and how my hands reach for your curves,
Like you are air,
and my lungs are starved of it,
I can't wait to touch you,
Breathe life into your neck,
and watch your legs part,
Because you can't resist,
How much I love you
How much I need you,
Because you can't resist,
Being **Mine

Today I openly admit that I am an addict.
I've been Addicted to the sensation and lost in the lullaby.
I've watched my potential dwindle thin.
I've had an overwhelming desire to get clean but no drive to begin.

I've cried my nights away in a withdrawal of sorts.
I've given up on everything except my last resort.

My vice is the most expensive out there.
What does a life cost?
What does a wasted life cost?

The regrets of yesterday catch you faster than you can sleep them away.
When apathy runs deep in your veins.
Pulling at my last straw - my last tall claim.

Today I turned my life around.
Not just another nudge for me to yo-yo.
I've derived a focus and approached my limit.

I'll sweat blood until I'm free of this apathy.
A victim of my actions in this endless tragedy.


My name's Jack and I'm an addict.

The oddity of the remained silence,
wrecks your walls and scrambles your thoughts.

In a cold misfit hope, entangled in raw truth,
He dreams of paradise.