not all desire of the same strength
not all fingers are of the same length
some desire of momentous smiles and peace within
some desire of lesser distance and bigger hearts
some desire to win their souls and walk their ways
some desire to have in their lives those
not with expensive cars and exquisite homes
but those with exquisite hearts and expensive souls.

We are the ***** purveyors of other peoples lives
renouncing the living breathing beating heart
in exchange for another photo of craft ale
and home-cooked food with a foot note description
as if it would fill our bellies and sate our hunger.

We are the dark wave tsunami of digital information
waxing lyrical about that holiday in Spanish sunshine
and a rant about car parking attendants and traffic jams
rather than the outstretched palm to jaw caress of realness
instead we line up perspectives of another bottle of wine.

We are the breeders of the optic L'enfant terrible
gorging on the memories of other worlds in 140 characters
snap shots of the life we could have had outside of the screens
the spineless automatons of digitized free love
the could've been, would've been lumbering electronic has-been.

We are the tumultuous storm rising fighting against the unknown power
we unite to save bees and coral reefs
and explore the concepts of actually doing something humanitarian
all we need do is sign the petition before the 11th hour
and be one of the thousand voices saying:
NO. We won't take this any more!

We are the saviours of our time and the rescue merchants of lost dogs
imbibed by Scrabble and Candy Crush weaving the elusive like a band aid
the tapestry of memes and images of cute kitteh's in boxes
chasing the shadows of reality on a stick for kicks
and all the while the moon is out there somewhere shinning her light
glorious silver light etching through the hash tag of cloud formations.

We are no longer what we thought we were. We are each other.
A haemoglobin gelatinous mass of misinformation and forgotten dreams
You are not alone. Even if you wanted to be,
my friend, my sister, my lover, my brother
quoting movies as if it were an inner wisdom speaking in tongues.

Somewhere in the darkness
a godless conscience
wraps itself like a garment
the forgotten harlot
of monstrous prophets
gifting rocket droplets
in exchange for dancing shadows.

Muted in this world of words
stranded by the curb of verbs
caked in adjectives and nouns
and assimilated synchronized sounds
the subvert of the truly disturbed
to utter the unspoken
and mumbles left unheard
skin on skin on skin
left cracked and bleeding and broken
each time awoken
by the screeching echoes
the crescendo of burning sparrows
the stench of rotten carcasses
blinded by invisible needles unseen
accompanied by the shallows of
the sour and salted and hollow dreams.

The mask invades
where no other light remains
like bricked up windowpanes
the silence of the hurricane
and etched tears of faultless
fruitless freedoms refrain
shuttered and shattered and seething
in time to come, but until then
Inexorably
I call out her name
each time I'm breathing.

When the dust clears
and the smoke settles down
I'll live again
take this beating heart
close its holes
turn the volume up
and breathe a little longer
for now

I feel my fingers searching for yours to interlock with
My ears waiting to hear you call my name
Eyes that look for your face in the crowd
There are nostrils that miss the scent of your cologne
A heart that longs for your reciprocated feelings

The way things were before

But all my fingers feel are my own bed sheets
I hear the crickets sing during midnight when I need you most
There is nothing in front of me but the wall
Creamy, dull, and empty
My nose can't smell a single odor
It is stuffed with mucus as I cry myself to sleep tonight
My chest is filled with needles
Aching, sore, and quite unbearable at the moment

Because I realized, my soul is searching for yours.

I often dream of acceptance
of who I am, of who I could be
the people and places I've seen
are just that,
people and places.
Empty buildings, and emotionless faces.

I am in fact living in a world of terror
the hospital bed I laid with visions
of the outside.
The window they used to watch me sleep,
but I was in fact awake for the third time.

My troubled mind bleeds sometimes
when I see pictures of you.
It might have bled today
because I thought I'd drowned in the bed I laid
but quietly I fell asleep.

Sleeping was the worst part
for at night I had to relive the past
and hear my parents cry.
I wonder if I'll grow old with someone
one day.
I wonder if the world will stop turning
and making me feel this way.

I decay.

In the night garden, star flowers linger
long before dawn, before the sun
vines climb, with ivory flowers hung
bringing light, where the moon glows pale
flowered jasmine is sweet beneath the air of fire
with lanterns lit in floral scents
glowing through diaphanous petals
here, where the earth shines like heaven
and blooms not unlike the stars.

So simple life would be,
To walk the chosen path
Of such as him or she.
No regard for things of value,
Civility, Traditions or sin
And most importantly,
Caring not a **** for
The mortal encumbrances
In the forced companionship,
Of their Human Fellows.

No strife in seeking redemption,
No apologies offered or received.
Having not one speck of regret,
For their own moral misdeeds,
Living as they do with absolutely
No expectations of friendship or Love,
Or an ounce of human acceptance,
Given, shared or received.

Living a life time of this
Empty lonely existence,
Until the very end.

The lasting price for which,
Is the very path they picked.

Grasp the lighter, sure your grip
Roll the flint, don't let it slip
Hold it steady, inhale smooth
Don't exhale yet, let it soothe
Toss it to the city floor
Grab another, smoke some more
Feel the pain, forget it soon
Turn your lungs black as new moon
Choke your stress, asphyxiate
**** your problems, seal your fate