The deepest grief I believe I've ever suffered was journeying through the extremes of true happiness.
To some extent I don't look at you as the same person.
Just because it's a thought of you doesn't mean I should be entertained by it, although it is a thought occurring inside of my own head.
To wait is to find hope.
Meanwhile hope journeys into the split road of faith.
At what point does metaphysics become alchemy.
The mark of an educated man scribbling on an enlightened woman.
The whom the how's and what not's
The true statement where knowing becomes understanding.
At these times anger misconstrues everything.
The simple wildness of the mind venturing into what the heart feels.
A lion seeking to devour the silhouette of where a lioness once stood.
Without color is it still considered prejudice.
A heartfelt contemplation which the mind deciphers a million different ways.
Sticks and stones swept under the fault of closed  eyelids.
The deepest grief dug by expectation.
The best intentions made empty by the deepest grief.
Motorized hands starting anew once the clock strikes twelve : twelve.
Repeating the thoughts that often replay on an daily basis.
To wait is to find hope.
Meanwhile hope journeys into the split road of faith

The wind did come.
The clouds like sails, soft on a mild day.
There was no rain.
Onward the clouds sailed.
Thick, to and fro.
The sun upright peeked through.
Slant beams.
The clouds like sails drooped.
Sagging in the distance.
Parting ways they swam.
Creating shapes, more soft ridges.
The clouds men.
Ever more to rejoice.
The birds like currents.
The bluest of oceans.
Below I gaze, light in heart
Watching them sail on

How clumsy of me;
to sit straight up with attentive ears
The vulnerably of giving what's missed
Mistaken as misplaced.
I liked this clumsy side of me
Lopsided stumbles, a bit more reckless
This constant fumble
Definitely generous; mistaking kindness as guilt
A sense of being misplaced
How clumsy of you to drop something so precious
When all along did you ever want it
That sudden pain that wraps around your chest; manic
A sudden throb that complicates the slightest of gesture
How clumsy of me to misplace everything where I thought I would find it
Again hoping sufficient in empathy
How clumsy of me

Rendered helpless
Searching for sincere apology
When in reality it was me

 

with unsteady tender

Sometimes my thoughts get the better of me.
Instead of being who we are, sometimes I wonder if we
were anything but who we are, who would we be. You know?
Would we still be destined to meet.
By some divine twist.
Would you happen to be the soda beside me and I were a set of lips.
Would purpose still play a big factor, knowing you'd
Be that essential thing that would fill this urge. Not because it would be just,
you know, something momentary just because it's there.
I'd never misuse you, 
Choosing to embrace you with the slightest touch.
The taste of something new, something refreshing.
Without fear that you'd be anything other than yourself.
Sweet, giving.
Hands wouldn't play apart of how much or how little you'd give
As I'd be grateful you thought enough of me to present yourself the way 
you have.
A clear bottle with red and white wrapping.
Lost in a ocean of dark brown

Cocoon

Err thing is on point.
Wrapping my words around your thought.
Your heart no longer a mannequin.
Bursting to life in full bliss.
Finding light in a world so dark.
Becoming more than a significant other.
My everything

I sip you slow
morning, noon, and night.
Sugar and creamer take away
from how sharp you sting my lips.

The way I am easily lost in you.
You settle me, keeping me alert,
even in the moments
I’d rather do other things
or when I’m too lazy to get up.
Regardless of where I am,
you taste like home.
My throat and body
stained in your brand.

Even when I’ve had my fill,
when I see you, I am thirsty.
I hope you understand
that you’re not made for anyone’s
approval, not even mine.
You’re rough around the edges,
even bitter at times,
but these are reasons I love you more.
You’re completely yourself.
Their faces are too neat
for you anyway.

When I taste you,
I realize this is real,
and that this is mine.
When I taste you,
I taste you like you were brewed
just for me

Her moon is the everlasting cream
In my coffee of stars.
I stir in the hopes she appears
In half dark twinkles of night.
My hands warm in the bistro of
Anticipation.
She leans against my lips
& my emotions erupt in hot steam.
A love like hers silk as cream,
Easing down my throat.
I stir until half dark twinkles are covered.
I stir until only the smallest bit is shown.
Her moon the everlasting cream,
In my coffee of stars.
The taste forever lingering on my tongue.
This cream a kiss that orbits much of the world.
A romance I taste with each sip,
In my coffee of stars

I am crushing on you.
Constantly looking for the next time I see you.
Genuinely gathering the butterflies without further notice.
Curiously fluttering.
Stopping to rest but a moment.
Comfortably anxious.
Revealing jitters at the most intimate time.
At the slightest touch, noticing how fast time actually flies.
Bypassing the excitement of having you here.
The way you switch when you walk.
The way your voice gets lower easing into comfort.
The subtle gestures that come naturally.
Our lips in pause, hearts racing to catch up.
A coke drips in condensation.
Rolling faster down the side.
Refusing to slow down.
Sipped slow, quenching thirst.
Crushing the can in satisfaction.
On a day like today water won't do.
I need something stronger.
Something sweeter.
Coke bottle shaped and a smile.
I need you

I have done everything in my power to become detached from the world.
Reassuring my decision every time I stare into your eyes.
My means of survival solely in the revival of your lips.
The light a reminder of the shadows that lay.
The past tense of habits no longer existing.
Thus-kissing you has become my favorite habit.
The more gently we treat each other,
The further and further away I become.
Throwing caution to the wind when it comes to you, each other-me.
It is through this perspective that I have learned to scream.
Scream every time it comes to you, scream when ever I feel this emotion rise.
This need to let you know that I am alive with each and every chance presented.
You being the cup that overflows each time.
Spilling all over my hands, my shirt, my mouth.
Traveling to a special place in my heart.
The horizon of a new atmosphere.
All of you in liquid form. Becoming a part of me.
And when you spill we both become terrified.
But not because you searched for me when at my lowest.
But because we were attached.
We were terrified.
Terrified in the sense that we trust each other with such sentiment.
The nature of what makes us, us.
Exploration the space around with loving eyes.
Our vessel made of tin.
The merge of planets happening inside of us.
Defying the means of gravity.
New galaxies lit by the sun.
The sun light of your smile.
Everything that happens within coming to light.
I have done everything in my power to become detached from the world.
Ignoring programs and other satellites.
Deliberately floating away in your eyes.
Detached from what was taught as the unknown.
New beginning

Of all the things I'd love to do.
I'd love to have a coke with you.
To watch your face light up full of joy.
The first sip that leads into another.
Soon as the cap snaps off
We'll drink until we can't any more.
Can't you imagine how fun that would be.
Imagining yourself as a coke.
The fulfillment of ultimate joy.
My throat no longer parched knowing that I've
had the one thing I've thought of all day.
How could anyone walk past you and not smile.
How could anyone pick you up and not want to carry you
around with them all day.
To be part of every experience
To see the rest of the world through the eyes of a smile.
Of all things I'd love to have a coke with you.
Imagining your smile the first sip after a long day

I am still waiting.
For something soulful yet real.
Kanye West inspires Kanye

Her eyes were like a color by number.
Everywhere she stood they'd turn a different shade of brown.
Naturally they shone a different color soon as the sun would find them.
But this color was hard to describe.
Watching the sun paint them with a splash of yellow.
I'd just stand and stare. Often time it was hard to speak after seeing such a thing.
The effect it took on me, often inviting me in to have a drink.
Nestled in a chair to hear a story or two.
How they just seemed to come alive, her eyes.
Inebriated by the conversations we'd have.
She'd put a hand to her brow to block the sun from shining too bright.
I'd forget how sad they were at times, her eyes.
Taken by the stories they tell about her dreams. The excitement that filled them, Talking about the places she'd love to go.
Big and bright. Full of curiosity, her eyes.
If I could let her inside of me and give her the same box of crayons that she's given me.
I wonder if she'd color me in different colors.
Or just the same variation of different colors just as her eyes have colored me.

I was conscious the moment her hand touched mine.
It felt as if I was sleep waking in a beautiful dream.
I had no insight to anything before that. No remembrance of if I dreamed or not.
There was no grogginess no want to close my eyes.
I felt at peace laying there watching her stare back at me.
The simpleness of it all.
The experience of something so precious shrewd in nature
To be perfectly honest there is no place I'd rather be.
Her voice assured a deep well that cured need for thirst,
the sheer depth of a look shared from eye to eye.
I told myself it was just a dream,
But when she touched me; I refused to wake

How could you say these lies
When you know I anticipate these times with you.
To watch you walk away
Your warmth instantly leaving my hands.
How could you say these lies
Knowing that your not coming back.
My hands with nothing left to grab.
Watching you walk away.
Those jeans
The way you sway.
My hands ache with nothing left to grab on to.
The warmth hidden behind those jeans.
How could you say these lies
Knowing that I am waiting.
Anticipating this time spent with you.
The way my hands grip you.
Each moment slipping through my fingers.
Not knowing you didn't plan on coming back.
Your sway imprinted on my hands.
This walk a reminder of how I waited.
Anticipating this time spent with you.
How could you say these lies.
My hands filled with brown skin.
Squeezed tight
Cuffed beneath the bottom of your jeans.
Finally realizing you never planned on coming back.
Your sway
Those jeans.
Your warmth forever leaving my hands.
& here I am
Still anticipating this time,
Spent with you

Blow a kiss & show me
What true liberation and
Desire look like, I deserve it
& when I see you, I am coming
With you. With nothing but
Excitement and the best intention.
I would love nothing more than that.
It doesn’t matter the list of places.
The first, second, or third destination.
I’d really just like to go hallucinate
With you In the wilderness.
A language that needs no translation.
No matter where we stand, mentally
We are where we want to be.
Prosperous in each other.
The earth tucked beneath a blanket,
eventually we’ll have to get up
but until then blow a few kisses
& take me with you.
A naked soul free, exploring a dream.
One of the first things that come to mind
Your face on front of a post card.
This memory snuggled up close
In infinity.
Without having to imagine or dream
Where we’ve already been.
Together by the lake,
The mountains nestled low,
One head snuggled into another.
The campfire barely visible, piled in a mess
Together.
Realizing that there’s nothing more perfect
Realizing that we are a dream within a dream.
Realizing that only we can make this a reality.
I want this so bad.
No matter where we stand, mentally.
We are where we want to be.
Each other’s everywhere & everything
in between.

She likes the lights in my room
They highlight everything I love about
Her.
The lights highlight where my lips
Have pressed & my teeth have marked.
She circumvents and understands
The lights when they come to hush.
The way that I touch her.
The way she lays back & enjoys
The thought of my hands
Revealing the parts of her that I cannot
See.
The ridges of her back my tongue
Walks & drowns in slowly.
Soft the way her body
Stretches & yawns (in ecstasy.)
She likes the lights in my room
But more so the way they cut off
When she walks in.
The light gives way the hint of attention.
Shadows fleet before my hand reaches
Hers
Becoming one with the way she yearns.
Her thigh gap at perfect ease
This craving a friend we both welcome
She wears this light for me
Until the switch undresses this yearning
She spreads & undresses for me
Everything I love about her

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

In most silences there is a hint of regret
One not easily overcome.
The awkward silence of not knowing what to say.
The fear of rambling about nothing as most times
It's better to remain silent.
The after thought of finally finding the perfect thing to say,
Always after the moment has passed.
Random references, awkward stares.
I hate mental blocks.
Especially when it comes to someone that you've been thinking about all day.
Of all things in the world why is it hard to find that one perfect thing that won't
Succumb to the peer pressure of finally arriving at the moment when thought becomes
Action.
That one thing that won't make you appear completely insane to a complete stranger

Without the flap of tiny wings or heart shaped arrows.
I wish you a feeling of perpetual bliss.
A emotion without a single shed of clothing.
Revealing to you every scar, each flaw that exists outside the thought of you.
Trusting that you won't take for granted the tenderness of giving
something so rare. In exchange for a listening ear.
Each jitter that hides in anticipation, hoping that you'll come with understanding.
Leaving behind the need to run when you see that I am none of the superficial things that bring most fantasies together.
The lavish things that surround a fountain of thought. Two bodies that flow into each other creating something more powerful than thought alone could imagine.
A sudden feeling that flows out through the mouth and flourishes into something powerful.
This might that flows in current is what urges my heart to throb harder with your every thought. An ocean of everlasting depth.
Telling you how I feel in accordance to my hearts wishes.
Holding your hand in this urge, hoping you feel it's current.
Without fear of drowning, over-thinking what your reaction could possibly be.
The slightest splash of excitement covering the parts of us we didn't know were there.
Breaking a piece of myself off in each splash.
Eroding in thought.
The small pebbles and seashells that scatter about the coast.
Sinking in layer after layer of current.
Creating the cheek that swallows your dimple whole.
Leaving the whole experience as indescribable.
A frequent flood of ever rising bliss.
Melting away in this constant current of you.
Constantly flowing

I got on my knees, hoping that you would appear
I waited until the morning, keeping my eyes closed in solemn prayer.
Hoping to see you when I opened my eyes.
I was curious when you would appear, keeping my eyes closed.
Continuing to wait, my knees became sore.
Still I knelt on my knees knowing pain.
Would your love ever take over.
Continuing to wait I opened my eyes at the crack of dawn.
Rising from my knees when I saw nothing but disappointment.

The stone that the builder refused,
Seeking refuge of purpose, justifying reason.
The cornerstone of structure, a cement paste.
Made solid through belief, faith that nothing is in vain.
The cracks and chipped edges smoothed out, made fresh.
The testimonial that throughout change, we remain strong.
Although ruin is soon to fall, the foundation remains.
Direct contact made between eye and hand.
Reaching over something based off appearance.
Sulk covered stone, passed over again.
The same stone provides shelter, protection.
What could justify such action, the coming of regret
Not knowing the perception of purpose.
The stone that the builder refused will be the very one you come running back to in time of need,
As wood often folds and bends.
The hammering of nails and twist of screws cannot change that
Self indulgent contractor

Everyone attempts to put a price on everything.
From jobs, to going on vacation.
Fluctuating gas prices, the necessities we can't live without. The cost of everything is going up.
There really isn't too much that people haven't put a stature to the almighty dollar which constantly diminishes everyday.
We barely have enough time as it is without hustling trying to make time for the things that we truly care about and seem to neglect, having to constantly look at the clock.
It robs us of the sincerity that follows.
A genuine smile that is very courteous but is also rushed at the same time.
Somehow we've come to the idea that we need a certain amount of money to truly enjoy ourselves.
Big businesses know this very well.
They expect us to cling on to the vast images that we see flashed in front of us in subliminal advertisement.
Via television, social media, or word of mouth without realizing that too much time has already passed.
About the only thing we truly take for granted are the moments that we finally remember to breathe and cherish the very same moments we remember to smile.
Forgetting who we are in the process of trying to make ends meet while maintaining the perception if it's ever enough.
If at all possible, today I want you to press pause on the things that make you smile
And live in that moment for as long as possible.
As it doesn't cost a thing to smile, it doesn't cost a thing to greet someone with a genuine embrace.
It doesn't cost a thing to sit back and breathe for a second or two.
Set a limit to how much you give of yourself.
Because those whom take, will only continue to take

If clothes could speak
You'd be the fragrance
They'd wear.
A kiss to remind them that they too, are alive.
Welcoming you with open lips
& arms.
If clothes could speak
They'd be fluent in speaking you.
Touching you in a way that you don't touch yourself,
Knowing the chance may never
Come again.
They'd reveal to you, that you were the one
They couldn't wait to uncover

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

It comes natural.
To want to save time as well as money.
We incur convenience.
Readily available to what we long most.
It occurs quite often.
The constant clipping and saving.
In search of the best deal.
Not taking into consideration that we might be short changing ourselves.
The shredding and discarding of things we don't use.
The big brand we call love.
Thought to be so expensive.
We spend in the product of smiles.
Manufacturing the ounce of time it takes to show how much we care.
The exchange of one thought to another.
Extreme couponing to get the best value of ourselves.
Perhaps without proof of purchase.
We tear ourselves at the lines.
Refined in swift passing.
Saving all the coupons in search of a bulk that satisfies all craving.
Consumers without guarantee.
Constantly clipping and saving.
Rearing ourselves at the line.
A coupon exchanged in saving for a kiss for later

There is a life lesson found upon your lips.
A secret to life transcendence.
No longer consistent to the thought of what happens next.
This is the value of your lips.
A connection of where dream becomes reality.
Curious to how a simple desire can find it's way to someday.
Some day equating to here, now, the comfort of knowing there is a vast well
of purpose.
A deep sense of need.
This is how I bumble across your lips.
Fumbling in anticipation.
A seminar that's somehow found it's way into everyday.
Lost in every word, taking those same words and placing them somewhere
where they mean much more.
This place is in my heart.
Immersing myself in the way that I see you.
Presenting myself in a way that contributes to constantly looking up.
The value of making myself present everyday.
Engaging my eyes in a way that you can't help but notice.
A innovative sense of passion.
Knowing to touch, taste.
This goes far beyond each throb that triggers my heart to beat a bit harder.
A tad bit faster.
Collectively, this same vast sensation is cause by you.
This pure breakthrough of appearing meek as I've humbled myself in the footnote of our next conversation.
Creating the insight that I now know why I bumble across your lips.
Finding that I was never inside of myself at all.
That I was merely on the outside, catching myself stare at you.
This crackle of electricity buzzing of a broken line.
As I've filtered everything out that isn't your voice.
Excited by the thrill of not knowing what to do with all this excitement that you've caused.
Relaxed in the way that the wire sizzles, knowing that nothing is wrong.
But instead, realizing that everything happens just as it's suppose to

I want to consume you with my every breath
Replacing myself with you piece by piece
I consider it outrageous
The way you fill my lungs
The obvious determination of mind body and soul
Making yourself a side effect of my abuse
My self neglect
My bad habit
The obvious press of you against my lips
Civil, the way you present yourself
Engaged by the touch of lips
Engulfed in your total embrace
A mouthful of clarity sitting for seemingly a moment before losing all self control
Requesting that I do so again
And again
A pleasure shared between us both, loudly spoken.
It's almost impossible
Imaging myself lost in habit
Disclosing a part of myself not easily seen
Doing so
And choosing to do so again
Imposing a mentality that causes moral concern
If you should ever leave
Extinguishing the spark felt between wood and surface
A fearful behavior
The smothering of external emotion
Closing the gap between argument
Confiscating my words for silence
This urge of consolation
Where would I go
The aches and pain of woe
Positive in the way I held you
Listening to a library of thought
Admiring your gorgeous posture
Suggesting I embrace you again
And again
The fume of dysfunction never felt so beautiful
The beauty in self destruction for another
Craving a choice that was no longer mine

The sound of fingers
The string of hearts
Pressed wood hallowed out
Digging, digging
Digging, digging
Breathe in breathe out.
It takes courage
Just to exist.
I've tied my heart to a steel string
And lost them around the cuticles
of your fingers.
Of all the cruel things in life
I am glad that you're not one of them.
I've tuned my lips
& Twisted my hips toward you.
You never once laughed
When I mentioned
I am still learning how to dance

In order of the most high
I come to you on bended knee
Guide me into your world &
Breach the intermissions of my soul
In all the intervals that you allow.
Your skin the wine that overflows
from the victory of your presence.
Not in defeat but of sheer delight.
A song rarely heard from the croon
of your voice.
Your skin a silk bronze
I come to you on bended knee
willing to abandon the world I knew
before your name graced my lips.
A fire that burns in my throat
That seeks source of inspiration.
Free, untamed.
I offer all of me as tribute.
To carry you with me.
To know you better than I know myself.
Guide me into your world & breach
the intermissions of my soul

I sought love.
Drinking from the cup of your hand.
I learned to replenish which you pour.
I made sure your hands were always full.
Continuing to hold what you've poured into life.
My life.
Finding a language stirred to life.
To confess what's on our mind.
It takes a steady hand to fill the gap of what's missing.
Your hand to my lips.
An ideal devotion to being our natural self.
Finding ourselves half full.
Our thirst softening the more we pour

There I was, caught in labyrinth.
Time & time again I found myself lost.
Following Cupid's arrow.
Round & round I turned.
Still I was a fool to not admit my denial.
Chasing an arrow not meant for me.
Around and around I sought.
Like a dog chasing it's tail

Cupid was standing next to the Halloween cards stretched so far from the valentine's day cards.
He pondered.
If he could pass out hearts like packages of candy.
Would people remain children at heart forever.
Without need for costume,
what would happen to the ghouls with nothing to vandalize.
Slowly falling in love with the taste of next year

Eyes do speak.
It's funny how they perceive the things around.
The broken conversations heard by fully complexed ears.
I believed that I'd be ok.
The conclusions that eyes draw.
Never making sense of the words heard.
I believed it to be my biggest mistake.
Falling for the beautiful images seen.
Following sight, my first love.
Pain is often beautiful, layered one color after another.
The stories that unfold given enough time.
The initial cause and effect, forgetting the love immortalized before anything
was ever heard.
The intimacy that eyes will only understand/
Speak to me and I'll fully understand.
She'd never been in love.
I gazed intensely
Still I pursued

I decided to take a trip on my day off
Rediscovering all the things that make me smile.
My place of work no longer work.
A small fee to a different world.
A world filled with all sorts of abstract color.
My favorite art museum, living & breathing.
A corridor of wide wall.
Different perspective of how eyes greet grin.
These marble floor emotions of how small I felt
Staring at these giant frames.
Perfectly sculpted lips
Each frame a memory captured for all time.
Me traveling down the corridor of your smile.
Our childlike sensibility
The truth of every display.
A hop and a skip away
Lost in liquid color.
How I've traveled The hue of your eye.
Displayed big and bright,
Decorated in frame and gloss.
The many times I've splashed around as you brought each color to life
as vivid as displayed.
For each glance a different story told
The tragedy of how we preserve time.
How soon we outgrow our former selves.
The moments that make the loudest sound.
Clay molds of your face
Smooth and round.
Every truth captured
Presented in constant space.
The burden of velvet rope
In restriction of how close we see ourselves.
Photo flash ban signs,
Dimmed lights to help preserve sensitivity
No running
All noise kept to a minimum.
This trip a reminder of how precious the simple things are.
Stepping back into reality
A long walk into how we use to be

And on the day she left,
Nothing needed to be said, I immediately felt her absence.
At that exact moment I felt my heart drop,
Falling miles away from where we once stood.
Watching my heart drop from my chest cracking against the floor.
The thought of no longer being able to hold her in my arms
Or being the first person she called when something went wrong.
It was at those moments when she was truly able to express how she truly felt.
It was those moments I truly knew what it was like to be needed.
Dropping everything, holding her in my arms.
On the day she left I was truly devastated.
Already seeing her smile disappear from view.
Sometimes thoughts get the better of us, but I could never understand why
in those moments.
We often say things we don't mean or act irrational when really and truly 
we just need reassurance that everything will be okay.
No overdrawn explanation, no deep reasoning.
Just a caress that says everything that needs to be said.
The power a simple hug can provide. The grasp of someone you love
to take the pain away.
And on the day that she left, I no longer saw the same her.
Walking off in the distance

Today before it rains, I'll big a big boat and sail away in irregular sleeves.
Big floppy ones that hang below my wrists.
Cut little slits to slide my thumbs in.
Then I'll buy a telescope and peer through the wrong end,
Thinking far left when everything seems so right.
Sailing in a pool of rain on the perfect day.
Of all the things I brought from the store.
I still find myself being the main ingredient of a certain stew.
For each drop that will fall I will smile.
Maybe a tad bit old fashion. But who else can see things exactly as I do.
Splashing my shoes in odd shaped puddles.
Today before it rains, I'll think of something a bit more subtle.
Something a bit more complex.
Hell I didn't have anything else better to do so I thought of you.
Wondering exactly what you'll look like from the other end of the telescope.
So far today has been strange.
Buying a boat for no particular reason.
Seeking kaleidoscopes and telescopes,
Waddling my wrists around in odd fitting sleeves.
Climbing aboard my boat waiting on the rain to pour.
By chance if I were to see you on today of all days, and you were to ask why.
My reply would possibly be the most simplest thing I've ever said.
Taking nothing odd out of context, Or the extra length added to my sleeves.
I'd simply reply.
Hopefully sail away from you.
The telescope was just to distract you

In an open end expression,
I wanted to do something like try to make you smile.
Things seldom seen as perfectly as they appear in person.
No matter how hard I think about it, it doesn't exactly make for what I see In your presence.
Somehow it just calms me.
That eternal peace that comes out of nowhere.
That inescapable feeling of being a different man. That unavoidable truth Found in the sound of silence.
This is the effect you have on me.
Somewhere deep down I touch bases with a me that I haven't seen in such a long time.
I guess the cool part about it is that it never takes much.
Nothing out of the ordinary, just one of those lazy days off work
no odd shaped supervisor barking orders.
You know, none of that aggravating **** we face on a daily bases.
Just a unexplainable peace.
Finding it's way into light, A light that only you can provide.
A light that appears soon as you smile.
Lips unraveling the bud of a pearly smile.
A stem wrapped in clothes, roots tied in rubber soles.
That's you, That one flower whom refused to stay in the same spot.
That rebellious bunch that kept too much to herself that followed the sun wherever it went.
Most flowers hideaway when the weather breaks, taking a deep snooze until the cold goes away.
On the other hand you are not like most flowers. You put on a coat and found a place with a heater.
Whose to say that you were wrong.
Whose to say that if you didn't adapt that you still wouldn't ask a million and one questions.
It's those quirks alone that make you easily lovable.
Still kind of irritating though, not all of the time just sometimes.
It still kind of makes me want to lock you in a closet, still kind of just makes me look at you and somewhat growl.
Eh, I know that sounds kind of ****** up but admittedly I enjoy every bit of it.
Although I still kind of  want to call God and apologize for whatever it was I did just take you away.
That sounded mean, but I'll do you one better.
It still kind of makes me miss you when you don't do any of those things.
At some point I don't know what made you take your shoes off and root yourself beside me.
But I'm glad you did.
Life would be so boring if I didn't have someone to shoot the **** with.
Even if half the time I kind of, sort of, always threaten to **** you.
Never in a serious way. Always in a silly off the wall sort of way. Noone would see it coming.
Nah but in all seriousness,
I know that your just expressing how you feel, Although I joke about you being clingy .
In the moments that I don't want to shake you, I enjoy it throughly

She came from heaven & laid her head
Down next to mine.
It felt like I had crawled into the sun &
Realized that everything was not
what it seemed.
She became an island
One my emotions began to explore,
Simplified to pacing in circles
walking back and forth.
She came from heaven & laid her head
Down next to mine.
I'd realized that I never seen the sun
set.
My gratitude today hopeful
of the invitation into tomorrow.
She defies the gravity of my world

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

Let's go somewhere far,
Somewhere where I'd hold you tight.
Hand in hand.
Wherever you'd like.
Whether train or plane.
An automobile or an boat.
Either way will be home in justification.
Journeying through each other's eyes, a different aspect of seeing things brand new.
A single step becoming wholesome
Just for the sake of getting up and getting out.
The feelings that dwell within
Escaping out.
Anywhere with you, to be perfectly honest. 
Venturing abroad in living, breathing color.
Heads leaned against each other in excitement,
The comfort of toes covered in warm sand.
Sculpting each and every memory.
The sun becoming a spec in the horizon.
Exploring every wish, every dream we've found within reach.
The feel of every couch cushion.
Misplaced nickels, dimes.
Caressing the weight of weary legs.

A earth tone colored pattern. 
The lobby of every room folded In the brochure of our heart.
All in the autobiography of us.
To live, to breathe in the essence of where the ocean sprays against the gleam of your shades.
The hull of yachts splashing against the oncoming waves.
The ripeness of fresh fruit served at local vendors hidden from the sun harvested by kind hands.
The only thing missing is a good pair of shoes.

Or perhaps lay here with you just a bit longer

I couldn't keep enough love to save my life.
With all the thoughts that surround one person.
Every time I saw her I had this sensation to give as much as I could.
And when I felt this urge I'd give a piece of my heart.
And put it in a  place that I knew in my heart would be protected and reinvested each time I thought 
of her.
She didn't seem to mind the lint, checking my pockets at all costs.
Sealing my heart in an large envelope in deposit.
I gave, Until one day I was mugged.
I was taken for everything including my heart.
With just one piece, I exclaimed that you could have everything else.
Just not this, it's already promised.
It's the only thing of value.
I was robbed of everything.
When I made it to her house I told her everything that happened.
And with a look of concern she asked about the last piece of my heart.
I exclaimed yes sadly that too.
She just looked and held me close.
Giving me her heart

She filled the entire sky.
The fold of clouds evened out.
She smiled regardless of weather.
Her smile peeped through the cracks of closed blinds.
Peeked between open spots of trees.
Her smile bright for all to see.
Highlighting everyone around.
All seamlessly standing still.
It was easy to become lost.
A young woman with rosy cheeks.
At first glance her dimple shown.
The corners of her mouth spread far.
Her perspective of warmth.
A fire resistant to element.
Every branch traced by her essence.
She was free.
Appearing without forecast.
Her intelligence spread far & wide.
No matter the storm she exerted her dominance.
Her smile a halo everlasting.
Yellow and white exuberated by an inspiration of her own.
The news anchor predicted overcast
Still she shone her brightest

I wish that I was no one,
Completely obvious to who I thought I was.
Without a name to identify a single thought or emotional response.
A complete lack of empathy put into words before they are said.
A blunt show of emotion spoken without thought.
Somewhat irresponsible but nowhere near ready to admit it.
I wish that I were nothing,
Realizing the common denominator of words left upon your lips.
A lack of enthused words, vague
Nonchalant.
This perfect invitation that excites the exact moment I'd always cross your mind.
Stating that you'd have nothing to do.
Any one to see.
A thought of interest,
How good it must feel to be no one without a single thing to do.
Without limitation to the ecstasy provided to all the things we could do

She's the thought that occurs in my mind.
The one that shows up without warning.
A gallon of gasoline, a handful of matches.
The spark that ignites there is brighter than anything
I've ever seen.
Setting fire to anything that isn't her.
I couldn't have saved myself If I tried.
Watching everything reduce to individual piles of rubble.
Shes recklessly chaotic.
Perfectly complexed in the way that she stands.
Striking the head of the match on the bottom of her heel.
There she stands watching everything burn.
Covering herself with my faults.
There she warms her heart by the fire.
Stoking the fire with old memories.
Slapping my hand each time I reach for one.
She's that one thought that asks me to hand her more matches.
Paying no never mind to if she's burned herself or not.
Dousing everything in gasoline that surrounds her.
Her reply to everything.
Revealing a devious grin, extending her hand for more matches.
Theres no doubt in my mind that she's a devil disguised in angel wings.
Roasting her halo over the fire,
Soon to press against me.
Branding me with her everlasting essence

It's hard sometimes you know,
Savoring something sweet.
You just don't want it to disappear as it's a shortage on delectable things.
So many things lose their flavor after a while and its like **** not again.
I mean the memory is always there but every now and then you just want that good mouth feel, like **** that was good.
Okay maybe that was just lazy.
But seriously having to go through the hassle of taking apart a wrapper
Time and time again.
Having to remove this or that.
Come on let's get to the good part already.
The ****** of flavor exploding into your mouth.
That private moment you can just be yourself anytime or any place.
The Ecstasy of it all.
The peace found after destroying something so beautiful.
At some point we're all savage. Face it.
The moment of build up, the anticipation of waiting for the very moment you finally get your hands on what you crave.
That one voice in the back of your head that pretends to act calmly.
That one voice arguing in the background saying do that ****. What's calm about what your doing.
Hell it's all one in the same.
But only the saint's whom attend Church every so often are the only ones
whom deny such a carnal desire when everyone is around.
Hahaha The Devil is something else ain't he

the last time you were here.
you brought a bar of soap with you
that you left before you walked away.
it provides a fragrant lather.
rinsing off, swirling around before being rinsed
down the drain.
although not forever, even bars of soap
have a shelf life.
it's expectancy dwindling with every use.
although you're not here, the bar of soap
you left behind is.
the question of masculine is not up for debate.
just as fleeting as every shower is.
i am not at all ashamed to say that it left
my skin feeling smoother.
the bar of soap gets thinner and thinner.
tossing in turning, scrubbing itself against my wash rag.
the doubt of you coming back is more evident.
the thinner this bar of soap gets.
if nothing else.
you can't say that I didn't think about you

And like that she became wet.
******* before she bathed in the storm.
Umbrella left home, by the door.
She wanted to be cleansed.
Clothes thrown to the side.
Where's the fun in being dry.
To rush every moment that craves to be moist.
Splashing in puddle after puddle.
The Infatuation of being free.
The depth of being caught in a portrait just before it drys.
Covered in layer after layer of heavy blue.
A foam of white.
A kiss that quenches every thirst.
Our lips the brush that sops the wetness.
Forever more.
To purposely be caught without an umbrella

You're still on my mind
the way you taste, and the way  
you make me feel.  
The world moves fast,  
and soon, the time will be here again.  
Instead of a turkey,  
you've carved pieces of my heart  
and reminded me of all the things I've forgotten.  
The aches and pains that have taken  
over the empty spaces between  
the hands on the clock
work, bills,  
pieces of my most intimate self  
I've traded to sustain a living.  

You've carved these pieces of my heart,  
as savory as they can be,  
and fed them to me,  
showing me that the world isn't  
that miserable
regardless of the fake smiles in a  
fast-moving world.  
My favorite time of the year comes  
quicker, followed by my favorite  
season.  
Thank you for showing up,  
and allowing us to feast on the parts  
of ourselves we always seem to forget.  
Next year, this time will come around  
faster.  
Until then, I'll savor the way you taste  
and how good it feels to be around you

In deep honesty,
I know that you keep to yourself.
That no one really knows you except the few you deem worthy.
How I envy their knowledge of you.
Those hidden idiosyncrasies that reveal the secrets to how you smile so big.
I wait another day, seeing your face in reflection.
Reaching out to touch you. Risking the chance that you'll disappear before my hand touches your shoulder.
How I envy their knowledge of you.
Believing the impossible.
A steady faucet that spews with the press of a lever.
I decided to stand still, realizing that I was standing on the wrong side of the sink.
Left dry, hearing only the sound of your laughter.
How I envy their knowledge, knowing exactly where to stand when you rain affection.
The taste of ****** food, left stained. Not much room to move.
Collected in an empty sink.
The clatter of spoons, forks, butter knives, and plates without so much as a cup.
I must admit. I envy their knowledge of you as I am left here stale, without cause.
Seeking you to cleanse me in purpose

Just because it's suggested doesn't make it right.
In the hands of teachers, other staff.
What other purpose could this directly serve.
To defend our institutions.
To further endanger those around.
The knowledge instilled from book to teacher a different practice.
Now holstered, hidden in the drawer of a desk.

What goes through the mind of the victim that's been bullied.

What training can be set in place to stop the next bulletin.

Shooting across the screen.

The kid in 10th grade that carries the weight of the world.

Sitting all day staring out the window.

Mother in hospice.

A fragile thought swallowed by deafening silence.

It no longer becomes a listening session of encouragement.

The after school sessions of comfort sped up.

Another bulletin of hysteria fired across the screen.

Teacher student affair.

15 year old student found with 42 year old man.

When in reality she was seeking help due to a troubled home.

Afraid to sleep knowing the door would creep open.

Leaving her terrified to close her eyes. The relationship between step daughter and father without boundary.


Where's the specialty training for those who care.

The proper resources that extend beyond that of a pamphlet.

The dark skin kids that's made fun of because they look different.

Stereotyped as aggressive.
The dope boys, the baby mamas.

The light skin girl that's made to feel inferior because she turns red with every hit.

Her hair is longer than theirs so she wants to cut it.

Aggressively forgetting all the beauty she possesses.

The active shooter managing to make it pass the metal detectors.

Rallying the attention he didn't get at home.

The debate carries on across every wall except the right ones