Early rays of light
they shine down to the window
my love she's on my right
with my face laid to the pillow

I lie awake and wonder
where she is right now
is she on a ship thats sailing
somewhere high amongst the clouds

Or is she simply sleeping
to wake her would be wrong
and as i stir about she speaks
"i hope you were not waiting long"

Echo-cho-choes bounces off my wall
Of my mind and ring through my mouth
In stereo I find I try
To convey what I'm speaking about
Let it out it says in perfect pitch
To my inner ear so no one hears
You've got something to say, then say it
Don't go out like a *****

And I stand upon my soap box
As I point you out in the crowd
Stranger I've never seen before
I hope you read this nice and loud
In reading this, you owe me a smile
A hug, a handshake, or a kiss
I'm the lover that went unsung
And so I'm writing this

if I wasn't on beer three
you know I'd write something pretty,
and dark, and sad, like you and me,
'bout how "The One" is no longer thee

I saw you again today
You disappeared behind a train
Seems we just keep missing each other

You exist only where I cannot
and I where you won’t

I swear, I just missed you
So close I felt you breathing

Do you still see me when you look in the mirror?
I wonder what it’s like on your side
Nothing human left, just Being

I shout at the top of my lungs
Just to remind you I exist

You are made of the spaces between words.

my darling
you have
the most beautiful eyes

how i’d love
to pluck them
from out your fairest skull

and swallow them whole
so you can see
my inner demons

and i can taste
your tears
inside of me

Life was easy before
Loneliness.

There wasn't a
Void

To fill.

Life was easy before
Love;

There wasn't a
Heart

To break.

Life was easy before:

Jobs
Girlfriends
Money
Apartments
Friends
Death
Fading idols
Tickets
Debt
Anxiety
Genius
Bravery
Solitude
Freedom;

Life­ was easy before all of that.

Instead of a simple life
Our society bogs us down with
New things to make our leaves easier

But the truth still stands behind;
Lingering on doorsteps,
Behind the television set,
Underneath our persian silk sheets,
Even underneath the sidewalk
We walk upon to work.

The truth is still there,
With a blank stare,
Holding a smirk as old as time.

Gadgets gear us towards the idea of immortality
That we are the mighty Gods now
But all we need to be reminded of our dispensability
Is a little rain
A little shake
A little gust of wind
And our gadgets and selves will just wash away

Don't let me stray into those matters
Evolution always has me worried
Envy of not seeing man at their newest, their best
Holding the gates of my eyelids open
So to see the break of the waves blue white breast

Atonement in these times generously dispensed
But everyone remembers a face
The way the iron clad soldiers forget is through
Further ******, hoping to one day die themselves
To be truly forgotten is the greatest of miseries
Never having lived means to never have existed

Our footprints are getting wider
The trees sway further toward the ground
Exhaustion peels away at me
Like a babies hand would an orange
Barely standing, I go to work to make $50 a day

Expected to live and be grateful
Produces a laughter mixed with mad absurdity
Where are our heroes now?
On the screen? On the stage? In the field? Behind desks?
There is so much to be done and
When all is finished, the hands scabbed and the knees scraped
All of it will be in vain

Though, we can say we tried
Rather than sitting on our *****
Watching the clouds burst
And the swirls of sand form a tunnel toward God

Lizards prepare their feast
Buzzards rip the flesh from a fresh carcass
Dung beetles roll their wears to the holy land
And the hope of man breathes in and breathes out

One final time

I've gotten so good at being alone
now it's a great time on the couch
surfing the web on my phone
singing with a wide mouth
letting random melodies pour out
throw in a shout or a laugh
chilling with myself like a *******
but it's fun, acting exactly how I
want to act, patting my own back
I'm glad I didn't let myself as a best friend
slip through the cracks.

I have to write a happy poem
Even though it’s hard
It’s so strange how happy I tend to be
It’s just my words typed are
muddy

with sorrow and defeat and
fight, fight, fight against someone
I don’t know
who-

could it be?
Am I crazy or sane?
Inside my brain is there a problem
that makes me fake or am I
real?

Do I just shpeal the wrong words at
the wrong times and they just don’t
appeal the way
I want them to.

This poem is not happy
and that makes me sad
Sad and mad but not in the way
that makes me want to fight
the way that keeps
the insomniacs up at night

but

I sleep soundly.

Now I see how confusing this poem
is coming out to be
I should
stop.

Stop now or stop writing I’m
not sure but how
can we be certain of anything
when everyone of us is
bursting with ideas
but so confined.
So confined.

I never want my mind
to feel that way.

sometimes
i look out at the velvet sky at night and i wish i were the moon,
when she is out no one can compare to her luminous beauty,
she is the fairest one,
and yet,
she always manages to stay modest in her delicate black veil,
perfectly draped,
around her silhouette.

sometimes
i stand out in the exposed bright of day and i wish i were the sun,
without her the world would be a cold and lifeless place,
she is the reason for countless beaming smiles,
and yet,
she can burn their gentle skin with a single impassioned glare,
blazing with power,
and perfect precision.

but sometimes,
on occasion, i look into the mirror,
and i can see the shimmering specks in my eyes,
and the light streaming from my hair and eyelashes,
and i realize,
that wishing for the sun and moon is pointless,
when i can be the stars.

-kk