I'd like to tell you a story,
     a story about a girl,
a story about a boy.
But while I tell you this story,
                                  I want you to listen.
Listen to the sounds around you,
                    listen to the cars driving by,
     listen to the planes roaring in the sky.
Most of all, listen to yourself.
Your rhythmic breathing,
           inhale


                                exhale.

            Inhale


                                   exhale.


Listen to your heart as it
thumps
  
      thump
          thump
                
                   thumps
in your flesh covered chest.

Tell yourself you are real.
You are alive.
Your story is more important than the one of this boy and girl,
because their story doesn't exist.
Your story does.

So feel alive.

Yes
I will turn on the music
turn on the vibrations and
listen to the rhythmic
beats in the background
while drinking red tonic in a
broken glass;
but at the end of the night,
I will force myself into unconsciousness
and depend on the blackness of shut eyelids
to get me through to the next day.

White washed wood
with a whistling rush of wind.
Where rounds of woodchuck beer
past the rustling of chips and laughter.

Empty bottles, elaborated clinks.
Even every inch of eager filled smiles
covers the thoughts of enamored hearts;
Entrusted with faults and sorry's to be accepted.

Are the ancient artifacts,
again the reason we think that trust is best?
A beer is best passed along with time.
Here's the drink, calm down please.

Resting in reverie,
is this really what we pretend it to be?
Requesting solace from a drink and company?
Ritually wrought instincts and partially rellished revelations.

You'd never understand if it wasn't for being young.
Yearning for years and solemnly sought
yells and whispers.

Please, I'm tired, hand me another beer.

Because I've this urgency
to kiss you on your trembling lips.
I've this energy
to hold you with my tightest grip.

I carry an overwhelming
desire to smile when I see you.
It's inexplicable with it's overpowering.
I need your heart when you need it too.

Your kindness kills.
And your eyes,
like a poison pill,
an icy blue disguise.

The ink upon,
your freckled skin,
a way you bear on
your actual sin.

I can't help but feel your presence,
for you are omnipresent.
Here and there and of course;
You're everything I yearned for.



You ask me, Why?
Well, I don't really know.