Loving you is not easy.
It is war, tinted in quick bursts of fire.
Our hands filled with grit, our breath steadfast in anticipation.
Camouflaged emotions dressed in fear.

The destruction in your voice rings clear.

There is nowhere to hide.
Loving you is not easy.
We find tragedy after tragedy.
Our hearts muddied in the trenches we lay.
I hand you bullet after bullet knowing at any moment you will turn and fire.
We ration ourselves not knowing what lies ahead.
We fight, we scream.
Our location given away, we brace ourselves for immediate disaster.
Our face and chest shielded in protection.
We live for the moment.

Realizing now the shame made in haste.
Loving you is not easy.
I accept the war at hand and admit loving you in absolute fear.
A calm thats grown to a heavy gasp.
The patter of boots tied tight.
I hand you the ammunition for my complete demise,
With nowhere to go.

Friendly fire

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

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

But now we can communicate.
I am not sure what cause this sort of block.
Under normal circumstances I suppose it's human.
To access so much of ourselves mentally.
Yet physically remain mute.
An attempt to be funny. Charismatic.
To yearn the manifestation of being represented such as a memory.
For some it's easy. It becomes culture.
Ignoring this association of fear.
Although slight. We begin to judge ourselves.
In fight beyond a couple of seconds that leads to bliss.
The things that have yet developed.
The possibility that things may not.
But definitely something is there. Reflected from the light of eyes.
Self doubt in light of holding back.
Yet we've evolved.
We've evolved into a splitting image of what we adorn.
The critique of what eyes see & what ears have heard.
We've thought in different ways of what binds.
Now we communicate.
To better service our needs, our wants.
We've binged them all.
Knowing all of our favorite parts, to speak hesitantly about the bad.
We recite them only in private.
Ignoring the kick backs and *** lucks that begin with pleasure.
It begins with the closed culture of what feels foreign
to no longer recite in mental.
Now we communicate

The first word that comes to mind is infatuation.
We connect.
Plan and simple.
It's romantic type notion.
I admit I've tried to forget.
Yet the more I recall.
The more I acknowledge that what I felt and feel as true.
I look forward to find myself looking right at you.
I look left to find myself right back at the same circumstance.
Nothing fills my mind.
My time quite like you do.
I thought selfconsciously soon I'll forget.
But the more I try, the more I find myself torn.
I do the exact opposite.
It's not at all intrusive.
In fact I welcome it.
From time to time.
I've allowed complete and utter surrender.
As it's the only time I see you.
Your smile.
Your insight to aspiration.
I've pushed you to where I've always seen you.
And physically it's killing me.
Your well being is all I think about.
The time it took to admit time is but a stepping stone.
And we but mere moments.
I tell myself time and time again
Let go.
But the only thing missing is validity.
Moderation competes with repetition.
I can only distract myself so long until your thought arrives.
Never to leave;
A pattern expressed in pure emotion.
A scar left unhealed.
Out of the sincerity left undone.
My heart ponders.
And for a breif second I am happy.
Perhaps happier than I have ever been.
A familiar song that hoops and hollers down a familiar street.
A familiar face in an unfamiliar place.
Rationally you've revealed a part of me that I never wanted to let go.
The possibility of what if.
A glimpse of an familiar face.
If only in thought.
The memory of exploring an unknown place and loving every minute of it

I love the words you speak
For they reinforce the ideal in which hands speak.
A warmth that can't be heard, only felt.
A bonfire released in a cylinder.
The crackling of dopamine like wood.
Branches that provide warmth in times you aren't around.
The times dawn can be found in the palm of our hands.
The waking of primal urge where words do no justice.
It is there I find you.
Each crackle, every ash of residue where we've rested.
For you are the fire lit in body.
The cylinder that keeps me warm.
No matter how far away you are I melt in thought.
Urging to move closer.
Alas you welcome it.
Open flames that lash out without regard where it touches.
Our love is one of eternal scaring.
The wind lifting each flame higher.
The preference of action over word.
The concrete stained, scared.
Our warmth attracts the attention of the sky.
In brief hesitation we overheat.
Knowing only to collapse.
This is what it feels to kiss every word that slips through your lips.
In eternal heat.
A ring that burns in depth.
A sign that we were forever here.
I am drained.
The sap and moisture comes to a boil.
I am forever spoiled.
Forever yours.
Alas I welcome it.
The residue of what we've become.
A bridge of me, given to you.
Stacked and piled high.
A match thrown in need.
Without fear we provide each other in eternal warmth.
The sky borrows our heat.
This cylinder that can no longer contain this fire.
Distributed as red orange.
The look exchanged eye to eye.
The beginning and end of all we'd ever know.
The smoke covers as clouds.
I am reminded every time I look up

I suppose the best part of it all
Was that I fell out of my shoes.
Where most would be embarrassed.
In a strange twist I felt a calm peace.
I had nothing to hide,
Outside of the fact that I was falling.
Fall fast I did.
The most beautiful of facts, pleasing to the ear drum of desire.
The harmony of her kicking my chair.
Me falling flat against the ground.
A beautiful sound echoes about in memory.
A short in-flight movie of me falling back into one of the biggest smiles I've ever seen.
House shoes flying through the air.
I assume that I wasted too much time.
So she took matters into her own hand.
Well foot at least.
My inspiration

I have to thank the night shift.
With nothing else to do I stumbled across you by mistake.
With most of the work almost done.
My ears took a stroll.
Four hours left before I clock out.
My Pandora took an awkward twist.
A long pause of an ad, the quirk of a song I haven't heard before.
Before I could hit the skip button I realized that I found something I had no idea I was missing.
I paused in momentary combustion.
This orchestra of cool followed by bass.
And to think I would tragically have been mistaken to skip along.
Staring off into space.
I have nothing to offer except my ear.
Shamefully I can admit.
I have never had someone to come and visit me on the clock.
But I could get use to it.
Just my opinion.
This psychedelic feeling that found me twiddling my fingers.
Nothing much to do.
Except fall in love unexpectedly.
Four hours later the same song stuck in my head.
This station all the more better
Stumbling into you out of the blue

If you were a song you'd be number one on my playlist.
No matter how much time would past.
I'd never get tired of hearing you.
Theres not enough radio time for how much I think your voice needs to be heard.
You are too beautiful for words.
Finding time for all of your songs is like making love.
The two of us lost in a moment hung on continuous repeat.
A grin spread ear to ear.
Nominated for the grammy of my heart.
Your fabulous taste in music.
The vocals that feel like they were written for me.
Within the first ten seconds I am in complete ecstasy.
The advance my heart makes.
Skipping it's beat to the rhythm of your heart.
If I can be the next venue you choose to perform.
You'd never have to question why'd it take so long to appreciate you.
Bobbing my head to the vibe you give.
The smile spread across my lips.
Your the only thing I need circulating through my headphones

Then I realized my mistake.
I searched the world not realizing that the world I longed existed inside of you.
Wherefore I felt I needed some sort of permission.
Some sort of console.
Instead of accepting the card I knew hid face down in a deck of the same face cards.
I manipulated the cards to what I knew best.
The only thing I felt was real.
The inevitable.
I was the veil whom dangled in wait.
The classic a-ha moment when all would be revealed.
Not realizing that I myself was a part of the illusion.
The one I kept at arms reach.
A realm filled with room upon room of smoke and mirrors.
Face down on top of a hat.
Waiting for some sort of hand to reach down and pull me toward what I already knew.
I was stuck in an illusion

Hate is such a strong word.
Yet you show me plenty of it.
You first flash your gun.
In compensation to cut wages.
Yet you remember me.
How you should have listened.
A siren of power rung.
the hands that flashed adamantly "no, please don't."
You ignore my cry.
Covering me in the congress of actions seen.
I guess bad decisions in part.
Act first speak later.
My spirit shattered in false hope.
I put firm trust in the light that flashed from your badge.
Thinking to myself its all a mistake.
To think I was half right.
It's much easier to edit flim or tape.
The disguise worn scene to scene.
You were never held accountable for your word or action.
In a couple of months everything will be thrown out.
A face sagged in misery.
Treating me your very worse,
Refusing to see that your very belief is the problem.
I couldn't say a thing.
The claps of your sole echoing against concrete.
A new victim found.
No matter how fast you run,
Your disguise can never hide what you've done.
You fled the scene before my body dropped.

It's relatively a slow process.
A thought builds upon anticipation.
Thanks to the nostalgia ingrained by Disney.
Musically the songs are different.
Granted the press of a thumb.
Spotify, Pandora.
An assortment of different streams all profoundly deep.
Separately, the adaptation is the same.
Boy meets girl.
Eyes go on vacation.
Suddenly we're dressed in leisure.
Beautiful sights ingested by the brochures of a hotel lobby.
Just yesterday none of this seemed possible.
Everything crowed into the bends of a folded booklet.
Lost in the sensation of influential taste.
This was my outlook.
A yesterday morning spent in the hotel lobby of my own interest.
I am in sense booking my own fear.
This slow process that begins it's advance.
A millennium that begins a couple seconds past twelve.
She was the art visually spread across the brochure.
With arms wide open I fell in.
Speeding up this process ever slightly.
I still a consumer at best.
Her being the best vacation I ever been.
I am in sense booking my own fear.
Her love.
Further more exploring the secret of her parenthesis

She gave him life in the whim of passion.
Drawing lines of pleasure. All of her pain that she's felt over the years.
The very existence of all she's ever dreamed.
All in the hopes that he'd never do the same.
He and he alone would stand the test of time.
The portrayal of locking eyes, deep shades of gray.
Drawn and retraced.
A homesickness suffered from the gift of tender eyes.
She remembers the nights the rain wouldn't cease.
The creases her face made in grief.

In the end. All she had was the sketch pad that never left her side.
He alone took each tear and rested his head beside them.

Her sketch pad.

This vigorous sketch that stared off into the distance.
She screamed of warning to the oncoming flood.
The beads of blue that traced every drop of rain.
Blending bright and dark hues to the paper of her pad.
Wool combs of hair colored in, blending into the background.
She thought long and hard.
First filling his hands with roses then taking them away.

Deep marks left behind from a couple of flicks of her wrist.
An eroding eraser.
The blossoming of a new sketch, a tremble of thought.
The rain came back even harder.
More fierce the next sketch she made.
Paved and coated over and over again.
A fear that she would never become the recipient of all she's dreamed.
Someone that would love her for all that she keeps hidden.
She reacted to the woes of thunder and lightning.
A tear made deep then covered.
Resistant to all shes felt.
A deep pain struck against the burrow of her heart.
Every flower in the valley of her screamed in anguish to the water that continuously fell.
The valley becoming a gutter in front of the driveway she drew.
Blue and gray hues crosshatched across the page.
Surrounding him in the background.
Here he stood outside in the rain for hours in front of an empty house.
His heart replacing the roses that filled his hands.
Within the confines of her sketch pad she illustrated her best friend.
The best friend she's ever known.
Someone that she could trust.
Made her feel whole.
Here within the confines of her sketch pad.
she illustrated how he made her feel.
She drew breath into his lungs in true fear.
Knowing that somethings aren't meant to happen.
Of all things that she loved. She loved herself the most.
Promising that she would never feel this hurt again.
The torment of having something precious ripped away.
A homesickness suffered from the gift of tender eyes.
She remembers the nights the rain wouldn't cease.
The creases her face made in grief.
It was that night she made the promise never again.
She drew her best friend in a world.
Cold and alone.
All within the confines of her sketch pad.
Where she felt she could be herself.
Illustrating the exact way he made her feel

And I regret not following the after thought my heart throbs.
Sometimes my imagination gets the better of me.
Watching you follow.
Watching you lead.
Turn around and recommend the next best thing.
Rather than the havoc that ensues following a river of blue ink.
I've lost my cap in it's essence.
Creating messes unseen. Still I know it's there.
I begin to drown.
Shaped into a plastic mold of where she's last stepped.
I could only hope to be healed in recommendation.
 
She drew me to life in her river of ink.
Filling the gaps of my imperfection with lines traced in blue.
My after thought drenched in red.
Watching you follow.
Watching you lead.
My heart has tripled in rhythm.
 
There isn't anything to learn here, everything is fundamentally natural.
This open willingness to self destruct.
This open willingness that generates anticipation.
Our history has been written as an open mouth kiss
Between hand and ink.
And I regret not following the after thought my heart beats any sooner.
Our courage to spill into the unknown

Sometimes when I think of you.
I think about your smile. The way you talk.
I am forever thinking about your laugh.
Sometimes I think about what you'd be like as a butterfly.
Fluttering about in your thoughts.
Nothing to hold you back from where you wonder next.
It's always at the strangest.
Most simplistic time that you appear and spread your joy.
As soon as your seen you disappear again.
Wandering about as free as you came.
Sometimes I wish I had your courage.
The strength to wander about as softly and freely as you do.
I admit, before I met you the thought of a butterfly laughing never crossed my mind.
The part of yourself that voluntarily gives without worry.
Bumping into the funniest of things.
Often times not knowing it's own perception of depth.
Sometimes I wonder where do you go when you miss someone so much.
If that reoccurring feeling ever leaves or does it continue to get stronger.
Finding a place to sit and wonder.
If you'll ever land on my shoulder once more

Do you think of me.
Most beloved. The purpose of my existence.
I am certain of nothing else but this one thing.
That you breathe into the ideal of something outside of myself.
The commute of daily life.
The hours, seconds and years that it takes to build the ultimate dream.
The toil of hard working hands that desire more.

The first kiss of the rest of my life.
An envelope sealed under the same ideals.
The letter being you wrapped tight in my arms.
Over one thousand kisses stamped over and over mailed to the same address.
Time after time again.
Under the circumstance that I am thinking of you each and every time that I am smitten in thought.
A letter not to be returned to sender in the hopes that you feel the exact same way.
 
I admit that we are human and lust is not to be confused with desire in any way.
Mail carriers sometimes deliver mail to the wrong P.O box.
Some post offices take at least 5 to 7 business days if mailed out of state.
Handled by different hands, sorted, bagged and carried.
 
 
And here I sit, currently unmarked.
Uncertain if I will make it there in time
for holding one of the most potent substances known to man

And that is your niche I told her.
Finding all things lost.
If I were to swallow ten thousand puzzle pieces.
Each belonging to a different size.
A different color.
No matter how I hide them.
I have perfect faith that you will find each piece.
That's just what you do.
There is no hiding any part of me.
With the slightest look.
The slightest word.
You immediately know what's on my mind
and I love it.
Arranging my every thought to where you see best.
It's really a no brainer
Finding where I belong

In the back of the
Bar, the spider sits in wait
The fly strips its clothes

And there began our oral history.
Removed from text, living and breathing.
Passed back and forth between lips.
I myself a promise, her oath.
The anxious lump that hesitates in the back of the throat.
The inner most of courage exchanged in deep sigh.
Finding it impossible to hold on to my own words.
I hold on to hers, and it is within this freedom am I truly free.
Without confines to anything, other than ourself.
That we find influence from events current and past. 
Well dressed in each others lips.
We both fold the page.
In exception to our next breath

My attraction towards her was fatal.
For the realest things to come from her lips affected me in more ways than one.
You see truth speaks volume.
And the beauty that comes from her lips was more than I anticipated.

Feeling my attraction begin to rise.
I attempted to switch the subject.

Finding that we both shared the same amount of pain.
Adding value to each subject that rose.


I began to feel that there was more for me.
My self consciousness reacting before I could gather myself completely.

I felt a sense of liberation.
No longer the day I had at work, what I was planning to eat on the way home.

More instead how every other thought included her.
The respect held eye to eye.
The avenues of how her day went, the ins and outs.

The evidence that I found what I was missing.
And I didn't understand one bit.

 

I suppose it's better that way.
Stepping outside of myself into the crossway leading off into the street.
A dark backdrop highlighted by a white light of a bald man walking before it turns
A reddish orange.
Though nothing is as harmless as it seems.
I felt at ease staring into her eyes.

 

Stepping inside of her mind was like walking into an art gallery.
Her interests, technological advances all highlighted in bright and violet hue.
All in the span of 10 minutes walking in.
Mutually we both spoke with our hands.
We'd throw fits with our laughs, indulging in the philosophy of smile.

 

With morality aroused I instantly began questioning myself.
Wanting to know more I asked question, after question.
Anything as a means to have kept her talking. Feeling an everlasting peace.
Walking downtown in an abundance of space, I felt I could breathe.

But I couldn't shake that she felt that I was like most guys.
That at any moment, as comfortable as she was, she was still waiting on me
to give any indication that I was no different than the faces pointed down scrolling down their phone.

 

And we,
Like separate thumbs.
Belonged to different people
Trouble

Nothing hurts more than anticipation.
The fear of the unknown.

 

A love yet spoken.
Unspoken in desire.

 

Yet it sits and grows in the vase planted.
An odd since of humor. 
It learned to smile.

 

Sprouting buds and leaves.
The taller it grew no longer
could it hide this desire.
Wrapping itself in vine.

 

Choosing to explore the unknown.
A love yet spoken.
Seen from the height of the vase planted.
It learned to smile more.

 

Finding a love seen from behind the glass.
It yearned for the sun,
Sleeping only when it couldn't be seen.
The sun.

 

The nourishment of dreams, granting peace.
A means to grow almost overnight.
Discovering more than this warmth felt root to stem.

 

The manifestation of the smallest thing.
Held tight, each bud, every leaf.
Symbolic of the heights reached.

 

Learning to speak in amplified volume.
It painted itself in infatuation.
Removing the price tag from the vase.

 

One of the greatest loves
Ever grown
Replanted outside.
Soaring above the clouds

I got a call from an angel
Floating on a cloud.

I made her laugh with the last message I sent her.

Misinterpreted messages lost in the light of the sun.

With ears at attention there was a brief silence.

Walking through the hall of infatuation.

She made me smile.

My hearts done none stop jumping jacks since the first time I saw her smile.

I told her about a dream I had.

Changing into something a bit more subtle.

We back peddled to the day we first met.

Just before the first date, but right after the third date.

The first moment that felt like we ascended.

The way time always seems to fly when were together.

The songs that describe exactly what it feels like to deeply understand.

The breaks between the bass where our hearts completely zoned out in a full day dream.

Knowing the words to every song that played.

Selectively introverted to the world around.

A mixed bag in the variables of comfort.

An audience of denim in a world filled with leggings.

Even in silence I send my prayers.

To an angel whom answers, as well as makes calls of her own

Yesterday I found a seed and theres no better place to plant it
Than in your heart.
I acknowledge that you've heard promise after promise.
And as time steadfast, these empty promises have become the reason it never rains.
The soil around your heart has turned cold and has become hard.
With more doubt comes unease.
And with more unease comes a reason to lash out and suffocate all the beauty
that surrounds within.
This at all is not the case.
For the neglect of a beautiful flower should never be in vain.
For the true crime committed is those who walk by afraid to be who they really are.
Sometimes it's hard to see the forest for the trees.
You my beautiful queen are more elegant.
More beautiful than you can imagine.
For the thorns that grow along your stem are only a means to protect.
Not to be taken as a defect that takes away from how special you truly are.
A neglected rose can only continue to wither without everything needed to grow.
But until you can look and see the beauty within, everything around you will continue to be dark.
All I ask, is for you not to believe everything you see.
That in time, among the crowd.
Someone will stop and admire all the beauty you possess.
But until you yourself can see all the beauty you have.
You will continue to live in self doubt and suffocate everything around you.
Let yourself grow

Today is built on chance.
The ideal of a better tomorrow.
And still I love you.


Though every day can't be as perfect as the last.
It's made perfect for all the little things you do.
And still I love you.


The foundation of tomorrow begins with today.
And if blessed with longevity.
I'll still faithfully love you.


Although there will be times when I press your last button.
And other times when you can't stand the sight of me.
You should always be convinced, that I love you.

 
It's not because my heart doesn't have a brain.
Or the fact your face is so beautifully complexed.
In truth my heart shouldn't always need a reason to recognize it's
living, breathing representation.

 

Even if your mad a time or two.
Your still the reason life tastes so great.
And I'll still faithfully love you

Does that make it unjust.
That I not share every detail that bursts open inside me.
Every time I hear your name.
Every time that I think about you.
I admit that it comes as unjust.
That it's an unhealthy habit as eventually it has nowhere else to go.
But instead to suffocate everything that it touches.
These butterflies that I keep locked up.
This love that I keep inside.
It fills up inside of me and I fear that if I speak
Everything will ooze on out.
And these butterflies will fly away with no intention of coming back.
The original packaging will have no other use.
But to sit and wait to be filled again.
Unjustly sitting idle with nothing to be filled.
Does that truly make it unjust.
That the most beautiful things are mostly kept hidden in fear.
But before you speak.
What seems as unjust and upright obnoxious is in fact a means to grow.
To flourish into one of the most beautiful things yet spoken.
That what comes off as fear, as a sudden means to withdraw myself
Actually serves as a means to love you deeper than perhaps
what our current environment would allow.
To keep these things that no one else would never know.
And share them with you when the time is right.
In truth you are the most beautiful thing thats perhaps kept me in check.
That without you I would further have no reason to acknowledge
These butterflies that I keep locked away.
Because the most beautiful things in life are destroyed by which
Are not understood.

With pure intention.
I longed to prove more than what became ideal.
Insecurity can come from a variety of sorts.
Communication through action, not only words.
The value of times essence.
Counting the moments it takes to come to the realization,
I too was afflicted.
To appreciate a woman such as her.
Not to impose on exposed thighs.
A factious affair that could only enforce what was felt mentally.
Only in mental.
Still we became vulnerable to the emotions that followed.
I appreciated her in full.
In part to generosity.
Her stare,  the way she'd vocalize to the rhythm of her heart.
I emptied my time when I had none to give.
Creating a revolving door of emotion,
In due time it was never enough.
In part I tried to stop. Finding myself too far gone.
She too pointed in blame.
Everything that felt so right became wrong.
My face no longer my own.
But one of her past.
I shared fault in every reaction that wasn't my own.
I'd sit and wander my thoughts.
Everything she said I'd do, I'd never done.
A shadow loomed, knowing only to spread.
Finding it's way past the light of heart.
Soon the very words we stood upon filled with cracks.
I too, afflicted by everything other than myself. Than her.
Than we.
Just as the very first step felt the hardest.
The last one was even harder.
Not realizing who we were any longer, the trips to and from were never the same.
Both lost in the tide of emotion.
In the hopes of not becoming totally lost.
I watched her give herself to another.
to feel the same way about another, to go above and beyond for another.
To again become afflicted, as his face later became one from her past.

I am often intimidated by certain thoughts.
Whether or not I am to think the things I think.


Over by the nightstand where dust gathers against the shade.
It's been months since I opened my blinds.
Rather yet pretend that you'd still remember the last time it snowed.


The things said we never thought we needed to hear.
The truth over thought, gathered into a mound of snow.
With pieces of you, pieces of me.
We built a snowman.


Each time it snows I find myself more convinced.
That we covered up more of ourselves than we thought.
Becoming more, and more.
People that we'd never truly know.


Every time that it snows.
I find that there is no comparison to the frost bite that you left behind.

In reply to the promise; you'd never leave.

The things said we never thought we needed to hear.

Turned away in difference of opinion.

After everything has melted

And at that moment I died.
Greeted by a single smile.
With any and everything.
Two seconds past departure.
I have given all that I have to give.
Usually there is some sort of warning.
One where imagination takes hold.
Of all the things I could give.
I find that now I have given my every and all.
Greeted by one generous smile.
Accompanied by lips that wait to pinch a heart in wait.
I died right there on the spot.
Now there's no need to wonder if tomorrow will shine as bright.
Knowing the reason I smile
No longer afraid of what dreams might bring

How can I be so sure.
There have been many times where I have been sure before.
In fact, surer than sure.
Standing outside of myself; I brush pass every other thought.
A space crowded with nowhere particularly to be.
Except here.
Shoulders brush against the thought of other shoulders.
Irked in irritation; the search of a higher purpose.
 
A casual meet and greet of lips.
A bistro of conversation with neither of us knowing what to order.
We swirled in each others thought.
Becoming the spoons which swirled around in creme and sweetener.
The thought was mutual.
 
We were both generous with our sips.
Both known to the after thought of addiction.
The roof of our mouths drenched with infatuation.
Lost somewhere between the rumbling of our stomach.
And the eying of Banana bread muffins.
Moist in infatuation.
The fulfillment of a connection of something so simple.

The fact that I loved her
Was my hearts undoing.
To let go was the lesser of two evils.
I found myself unable to.
The fear that I would begin to miss out on something more.
Did you ever truly care.
 

My life began to unravel one moment at a time.
What was it like to touch.
Perhaps breathe.
The girl I once knew.
To know and love.
A long pause in the hope of being resuscitated after a world of black.
known as nothing but a memory.
 

Fractured.
Unconscious to every good bye in the memory of every good day.
The tragedy of the unexpected.
Not fully knowing the depth of bruise.
Left unraveled, unprotected by the comfort of a full spool.
 

A loose thread that's reached it's end.
Still attached to the spool.
A long pause in the hope of being resuscitated after a world of black.
Everything as but a memory.
Did you ever truly care

There they sat on the park bench.
Both of their legs draped across the same knee.
Their shoulders were at ease, laid back against the bend.
They've sat for hours, the few people whom come and gone.
With shoes made for comfort, their heel felt the breeze.
Faces stretched in laughter, deep wrinkles found their shirt.
His arm napped around her, cheeks held up high.
She looked up ever so slightly nudging him with her elbow.
Time flew by, another afternoon spent in the park.

 

They looked straight ahead.
Orange leaves fell from the tree, she leaned closer to him.

Time walked right on by

Love is but a rope wrapped tight in various knots.
Just when you think you have one undone; the next is a bit harder
to undo.
If not careful it becomes tighter and the moment of anticipation
begins to fade.
This hurricane of twisted thread, bind as rope.
Willful to this release.
Time is key to those deserving;
Creating a memory that will last forever.

Time,
Are you truly as kind as you seem to be.
I've fallen in love with you.
And just like every other promise.
All I ask is that you not leave so soon.
The real reason I love you.
Is that you make everything sound so simple.
You've shown me the most beautiful sound in the world.
You've taught me to cherish and hold close these tender
short moments of sentiment.
That somewhere in these moments of beauty, you will
whisper back.
And tell me a secret of your very own.
But deep down, I know you won't.
And you will move on just as swift as you've come.
The reason I love you

Alot of the time I find myself 
wanting all of the things that I cannot;
Things that I shouldn't.
Times that are long past gone.

 


I often lose myself in thought.
Finding the importance of memories.
The times sectioned off in joy and pain.
Pages that flutter vividly like they've just happened the day before.

 


My heart is worn thin, once full of red thread.
None was given in vain. Though it tangles.
Given purpose wherever it lands.
Pulled almost until nothing is left.
I tied a piece to your wrist and it follows you always

 


Almost none existent, over time I've watched this thread
Loom itself into one of my favorite memories.
A reminder of a girl I knew, a girl that I loved.
And I'd like to think that with each tug. That she's somewhat thinking of me too

And for a split second I felt free.
Perhaps freer than I have ever been.
Relying on the shoulders of a stranger.
It couldn't have come at a better time.
The acquaintance of seeing yourself in someone else.
Perhaps it's better that I choose to not know you or this moment
we know as perfect
would come to a screeching halt.
Seeing you, seeing me for anyone you choose In the compassion of thought.
There we stood within arms reach, yet we embraced the full distance of privacy.
I mean after all would we truly come to understand each other if we tried.
Who's to say that full disclosure would lead to total certainty or uncertainty.
The question still provokes.
As uncertain as it may be, electricity is still dangerous.
Still it paves the way as a connection is sparked.
In the likely hood of a grounded current.
We'd be sure to cross again.
As sure as plastic melts, as sure as glass is soon to shatter.
Left ungrounded.
We all have a beginning and end.
In ultimate truth I agreed, in some form we continue to introduce ourselves to our former selfs.
To an extent, I admire addicts.
They aren't afraid to be who they really are.
And like that.
Two conductors were exposed to the repeated trace of static shock.
Exhibited behind glass in the most beautiful of explosion

And I thought for a moment.
With all the anxiety that goes on in the world.
Lay with me for a moment so that we'll both know all that ills.
The insecurities we dress ourselves with that reveal only what we want to show.
Soon remembered when were all alone.
For what you truly define as a moment without rush.
Fill a void that isn't easily removed without first knowing a strangers name.
That ensues unanswered phones and a loss track of time.
The beginning of fear, the turmoil of new habit.
Step into the unknown.
Meaning total comfort in your own skin without a means of being judged.
A spontaneous eruption of minutes that burst into hours, oozed into the rhyme of songs played on repeat
Until we forget entirely what it was that we were planning on doing next.
And I thought for a moment.
This is complete and utterly insane.
Moving from the bed to the floor.
Finding what's been on the edge of our fingertips this whole time

I seen heaven in a dream and like all good things
It ends to soon.
Eight hours narrowed down to short memory.
Lopsided sheets tucked comfortably in a discounted comforter.
Just before I waking up I heard a voice call my name.
A soothing voice layered in comfort.
Not once did I move. A place moist in anticipation.
Very rarely do I get to travel.
And good things come to end too soon.
The memory of smiling faces seen on a lukewarm day.
An older man sat at an iron wrought table.
Reading to himself the details of spaghetti and fork.
A slight twirl of long noodles punctuated by a piece of meat.
Next time I come I'll have to eat there.
By the open door with chalk on a board.

Going to sleep watching the food network definitely has it's consequences.

Being woke from one of the best dreams ever.
The sound of a rumbling stomach.
And an empty fridge

It's hard.
This feeling that easily becomes cozy.
The possibility of being shown something new.
The introduction of new words, new emotions.
Soon to discover fear of loss.
This possibility that brings to life an life altering halt
Before anything major has happened.
A social construct that thrives on reciprocation.
Slouched across the couch.
Found in sudden hesitation.
Wanting to move, but not wanting to lose that comfortable feeling.
The thought of having to find that spot all over again.
It's accumulation of warmth.
Everything that went into finding the good news
Then realizing that you have no one to tell it too.
Or even worse.
Realizing that the remote is on the other side of the room.

In the swift wind.
My hands set sail in a vast
Emptiness.
Weary feet pointed left.
My heart steadfast to the right.
Her heart wild as the wind.
I sailed beside her.

Capsizing in her silk wave.
She was far from quiet, an abundance of thoughts. Opinionated from one wave to the next.
Without a single struggle.
I sank.

I left my supplies by the mast.
Becoming easier to swallow.
Everything scattered.
Topsy turvy in fascination.
She kissed me and I never looked back.

A horn in jazz is a lot like a heart.
At times it blares it's loudest in love.  19

 

At times a pin drops in silence.
The neighbors won't complain. 14

 

I never thought God to be a fan of blues.
My ears like an open door.  17

In a sort of way I was like her pen.
Whenever she needed a place to vent I was there.
In the times when truth was hard to bare. The world a bit colder.
Is when she stained me with her hands. A place she felt most comfortable.
She'd wake out of a dead sleep, to tell me all of her dreams.
The things that kept her up at night. Her fears, her aspirations. 
She inspired me as well.
To give as much as I could.
Knowing her to be all I could depend.
Generous in the way I laid beneath her words.
I remained humble. Replacing my top with every syllable she spoke.
learning to speak in the times she didn't know which word felt best. 
Shutting the world out for moments longer.
In times I wasn't my best. She never minded the ink on her hands.
The moments that became hesitant. Large blotches of ink clogged in a moment of weakness.
The silence of a moment where silence spoke volume.
Closed pen top. The inadequacy of being used until nothing was left.

This was how I viewed the world until she opened me up.
Often times I'd dangle from her front pocket. Kept warm by her side.
Away from all the other things she'd carry in her bag.
In all honesty I loved every story she'd tell.
Shedding light on her perspective of life.

To leave the old me somewhere on a desk
I felt at home living and breathing, nestled between her fingers.
At neither time did we feel we'd run out of ink.
Scribbling her pain, her pleasure 
With my fingers.
And I, curled up in a blanket until the sun rose in her eyes

Sing me a song.
Sang me one them short but long songs,
One them type songs you like to sang that I like to hear about.
To be honest I don't care what you sang.
Just put one word in front of the other and move your lips.
God knows your the only thing that keeps me calm.
And your the closest to heaven I got.
When I got you everythangs gonna be alright.
I'm gonna pour me one of them long weary drinks and escape to whatever key you sang.
My life got nothing but holes.
I'll be ****** if you didn't fill every one of em.
If it ain't one thang its another, then you die.
At the end of this long weary drank.
I'll stop all the clocks. No particular place to be.
I'll knock on an angels door,
What ever key you sang.
Sing me a song.
Make it long and pretty

The people around disappear.
My voice makes its way home.
Finding comfort in your ear.
You resonate within my heart.
Stirring a soul that no longer knows fear.
In the end all that I knew before will no longer exist.
Everything chipped and shattered in a million pieces. 
Sheer signs of destruction.
But still I drunk, knowing the full consequence.
The shaping of objects that no longer obstruct view.
The people all around completely unaware.
The existence of something awoken by a single thought.
Pulled in by the urge of a single whisper.
Spilled from the brim of hand to mind.
A sweet substance grown to stick as it cools.
The thought of being held, embraced in the flicker of light.
A moment worth being withheld a moment longer.
Not a moment to criticize nor. but a moment of introduction.
To take such gift and wish that this could last for more than a moment.
More than two.
To stir something so factious. So addictive.
At that moment I realized what I was missing

Let's just be.
Truth be told some things are just hard to write about.
The over complication of all the things we consider important
as well as the same exact things we tend to ignore when tension reaches it's highest.
Let's just be.
Why relive all of the wrong parts that we over exaggerate to be life as we know it.
Not at all stating that we should be completely lazy.
But When we wake up let's just be.
Be more than what we already are with no reason at all.
To embrace all the beneficial factors that come with the simplicity of a heart filled smile.
Plunging head first in the cover of arms- warm and tender.
The flavor of cinnamon brown swirl.
Fleeting in delicious curiosity.
Let's shut out the world and just be.
Until we both fall asleep.
4 am, Late night conversation.
Not too far from where you stay.
Truth be told some things are just hard to write about.
But of all my favorite things, I love telling you all of these things
When your laying beside me

In the back of the
Bar, the spider sits in wait
The fly strips its clothes

For each of the numbers printed on her face,
I counted each of them for every second that passed.
Three long arms that reached around eclipsing themselves.
One painted red in reflection of how fast my heart would beat.
Counting each mark that filled the gap of each bold number.
Counting down from the twelve o'clock hour. Reaching twelve again.
I fell in love. A continuing loop of numbers falling face forward then back around.
Seeing everything that I may have missed the first time around.
The sights already seen becoming more precious. Both of us together, close as breath.
A plastic case protecting us from hesitation, how long it would take to pass again.
The revolution of seconds it would take, orbiting my world for the millionth first time.
I didn't care that she painted her stars black and an infinite space around white.
For the first time this would be the closest that I would ever come to the ethereal experience
that I'd feel to be eternity.
For the millionth first time

I visit this tree each and every day.
From the steams, to the fruit to the leaves.
Each part is a different part of her.
She blossoms in spurts.
Her leaves lost in the wind.
Hiding how ticklish she really is.
She keeps the best part of her high up on the branches.
Inspiring me to reach higher.
Knowing that arms reach wouldn't satisfy either of us.
Old pieces of her falling off to wither.Rot.
The parts of her that weren't ready to share.
I love every bit of it.
To sit and reconcile under the shade of her leafy dress.

Beautiful and strong.

We rustle ourselves in the comfort of each others company.

Taking our time to climb the ladder of branches.

I am always happy to see her.

Taking the seeds that she gives.

Planting them all around her.

Until we reveal everything there is, about ourselves.

In beautiful coincidence.

Taking our time to climb her beautiful branches

The touch of lips- brief and soft.
There was no more grief.
This evening forever lost in memory.
Through the ripples of untroubled water, we sat.
The waves rolled closer.
Together we crashed by the pull of the tide.
Anxiously losing track of time.
The wave- thick, unforgiving.
Retraced its step.
And I forever lost.
Forever inhaling it's essence.
Forever remembering that night with closed eyes.

By the way.
I'm not doing anything later.
If you don't have any plans, why don't you throw on some sweats.
Your favorite ponytail and we'll find something on TV.
A little Netflix and chill.
A little takeout and random channel flipping.
A stimulating conversation about old times. Inspiration.
Our dreams. What we hope to be.
I'll call you soon as I settle in.
Hop out of the shower.
Nitpick about the way that you've been on my mind.
The smell of incense and cocoa butter rubbed smooth on your skin.
It doesn't have to be anything spectacular.
A moment filled with the click of heels.
Just the simplicity of a moment filled with you