future is vast expanse of confusing
unknown romanticised nonsense

past is like the dead
we still feel it but it's not there
it fades with clown-like indecency
mocking our misfortune at it turns
and waves goodbye

present is spent in other realms
except the rare flicker
where mind and body reunite
like old friends long missed

intangible, consistent, inconsistent
nonsense is the cruel ticking of time

there is nothing we can hold
in a moment and own
It all escapes us
like helium baloons tugging
from the tiny sticky hands of
small children
floating into the blue sky
never seen again as every moon
and sunrise
although we forget

Your eyes
Restless but soft
Like a river flowing through my skull
Dispersing into the cracks
Making the hollow overflow
Abundant with the sound
Of Your voice, unbound
Winding through my mind
Making my heart pound

Will you watch me fade as I grow cold with the moon
Will you watch me shiver under sunlight quivering

Will you reveal and uncover your oceans at night
So I may settle the raging storms which swirl between your ribs through day

It hurts
that you don't notice
me in my bluest blue dress.

It is brisk
       It is brisk
  You are cold
     and I am melting

before you I flush
to my reddest of red
like the lipstick
     I wear
for you
    
It is brisk
             It is brisk
      and still
You don't notice.

Blind to my blue and my red
Whilst I stare a your
    silver and gold
and before you I melt
    to ashes and coal

and still you don't notice.
   Still I am blue
and the sky droops down
       over me,
           not you.
You are shining
     You are shining

You are the stars
I am the void
    in which you hang

You thrive
    even when you die
I still see you

But you are blind
     to my blue and my red.

Still,
    you don't notice.

It hurts
    that you don't notice.

So I'll let my love for you abundantly flow,
I'll feel the same wherever you go.
Still sweeping the ash from where my heart sparked alive
under the stars,
under the stars.
My chest is sore,
you've made me raw,
I can't break out of this skin.
Let me go, let me go, let me go.

I am frozen in the vastness,
so far from you.

Though the bitter taste in my mouth might fade,
I'll miss you, I'll miss you. Always
your skin in the moonlight.
Always madness.

clawing between soft sheets I find your large hands
clasping through the gaps to find my softer inner parts

little do you know I am crumbling
though I give you the power to tear
what I forbid myself
to surrender

Create art with my ****** mess.
I know you never will

It is sad that you are gone
but I am waiting,
gluing my self back together,
trying to find the bits and pieces
I've shed in this process
of stabbing and
grabbing and itching newness
of youthful closeness
and the fusion of two.

you loved me
to the sky
so much
that I might die

Why did you leave
Oh my, oh my
I am so afraid
that you like pie
more
than you love my eyes

The sky is old,
a new one dawns.
Across the world
are souls reborn.

Faces of pink,
pale and blue
no longer stiff from cold winter's grip.

Green now disperses,
rich in the earth.
Iciness fading,
lifting eyelids each morning,
hopefully waiting, waiting for Spring.

Eyes again bloom, glisten and gleam,
life-filled and bright as trees sprouting their leaves.
Our souls are since stretched, made bare by the cold,
now breathing fresh life
as restored is the old, the new, the rise and the fall of life's changes due,
the daily difference of the warm and the blue.

Forever the white silk sheets
shield my sleepy eyes
Under the turning turning
    of the night
          Pull over
          Stay close
Away from the light
And into the night

My cave, my home
White silk walls
I choose to know
Only this

I will grapple, I will cling
With chipped nails
And cracked hands

They have only known myself
When I sleep
They have only known myself
When I sleep
    Awaken
Under white silk sheets
And no one will see
    But me
    But me
Shield my sleepy eyes

Who am I?
Who do you want me to be?
I'll paint my face, cover
every inch with layers of
new because old's no
good. Of course you'll
never know.

There's no truth, no
sound or smile escaping my shell
which could tell you anything
true.

Is anything real?
We'll dance in costumes of
silver and gold and
never know a thing.
I'll give you my name,
splatter some words.
on a page or in the air,
what's the difference?

What does it tell?
You'll take the stage for
an hour or so,
give me your name which
wasn't your choice and
I'll judge you for all
you allow me to know.

Year after year we'll
talk about our day.
I'll cry in your arms.
You'll  tell me something
you've never told
anyone before.
     You'll study my every
inch and I yours
and we'll give all that
we can offer
     but never
   all that we own.

We could spend centuries
together but our
ever-changing souls
will never, ever know
any truth
as we know
ourselves.

We are blind,
always.

Who are we
If we change
according to the whether
of which, who, what, and where
Whether somebody else is there
I live and I be, according to the we
According to an us,
not a me
Do we possess individuality?
When adaptation is our constant falsity?
Although we each see through our own narrow eyes
It's a singular perspective
surrounded by lies
The world is one,
our hearts are one
It's true
This must be
So who am I?
Who are you?
Who is
humanity?

Summer is gone
and the moon is left hanging,
solitary in an untidy sky

Summer is gone
and the clouds beat the grass,
with a yawn, and a tearful sigh

Summer is gone,
and the trees wilt
their branches,
tender leaves fall,
drift, sweep,
crawl
onto clay-covered floor

Everything falls
after summertime

evenings are swallowed
by night
mornings sink deep
into light

the world is quiet,
and tired,
and sad

heat stained, sun drained
Autumn flies in heavy chains
So we ask: why?
Summer is gone