And if I am guilty of one single thing.
It is this.
I love too much and show too little.
Realizing in the end that I am the undoing of what I care most.
I need to believe that past is past.
Instead it dictates too much of what my future holds.
In truth I am terrified.
I believe too much in the things that hurt.
I am sold into beliefs to find that truth is never really what it seems.
I buy into sudden beliefs.
unconsciously we hurt each other.
We digest different pieces of each other and swallow them with water.
The prescription to love ourself is still the same.
It's terrible, the way we react before the initial action.
A means to cope.
Seeking refill before the prescription has run out.
We run out of patience.
Standing in line.
The hacking and coughing of times pass.
The body aches and trembles.
An infection that continues to spread.
Still we search for ways to rid ourselves of everything but the right thing.
Staying home in fear that contagion will spread.
Have we really run out of things to say.
Our voices cut short from the swelling.
A different piece swallowed, over and over again.
Chased down drowned with water.
Fallen asleep, to wake our symptoms worse.
Seeking a pharmacist to heal already present symptoms
without first a medical prescription.
In fear insurance won't cover cost.
In your absence I haven't done much healing

That taste, that warmth.
Oh goodness, it was like heaven.
Your lips, so soft. Your skin.
Our lips touching.
It was like our souls were trying to reach each other.
And eventually, they did.

Kissing you, felt like making love.
Making love on your lips,
Dancing on the starts, on your lips.

I yearn, I long for another kiss of yours.

It was out of the normal, it was too special.
So special I can't describe it in words.

Make love on my lips.

Some nights it would rain.
And in the comfort of solace I'd get up.
Grab my shoes, my coat and head straight to where
I felt most comfrtable.
Though this place near.
Not too many knew about it.
I'd go straight to her heart and comfort her during the storm.
It was something different about it.
Her heart.
Meeting her near and dear.
To bring her comfort put me at ease.
It's not that she needed or required company.
But deep down I felt at peace.
Watching the sky ignite every so often.
Igniting our hidden passion.
Our eyes the closest thing to a telescope.
We reminded each other how we should feel.
Our turns smiling and laughing.
Often times I'd forget the rain completely.
Becoming drenched in the patter of her heart.
In the end all we'd know was silence.
Coming to terms in our own agreeance.
The further apart she wanted to be, the closer we actually became.
Even now she kisses me in silence.
Not a cloud in sight.

When I feel you breath into me.
I am high.
I feel like a balloon.
Surrendered by belief.
This is the highest that I'll ever get.
To taste your freedom.
To breathe in it. To bask in it.
With each breath given, I hold on tighter in fear that
at any moment things could change.
That any moment may be my last.
Your kiss further confirms.
This bubble of joy that comes alive every time that you are around.
You blew life into me.
Teaching me the meaning of change.
A change I have yet learn.
Things that I have neglected myself.
I have lost the feeling of standing on the ground.
It is yours and yours alone, this breath I give back to you

The dwelling place
Simply dark and uncomfortable
Yet shamefully well fed
And thoroughly misunderstood
Exactly like the inside of your
Mind way back when
Little chatterboxes with pink ribbons
Like iridescent peageons
Scattered around pecking at some
Laughable nonsense and you too
Perched next to them
Holding your breath
Tight enough to resist the gravity
Lifting yourself up by the
Corners of your mouth
Chirping along whateversomething it is
Insignificance of it.                              
Sprinkling the glitter
Over the gaping hole
As a matter of I don’t know why.
Not much food for the thought
Just a feeling of suffocation.
Wash it down wih despair
Down into the innermost
Of that empty drain
Now THAT feels like home
Suffering for the lack of misery
Or some
Miserable luck
That was named a fortune
Without a smile

sometimes
                                                       ­                         my
                                     ­ brain
                       doesn’t
                                                       ­     work

right
                                                ­                               and

                             my

                                              thoughts

     ­                                         scatter

               ­                                                    like
                               beads

                                     spilled
                               on
                                                              ­                 tile

floor