Hot metal purrs next to me, harsh breath cresting my skin.
I wonder if he has a name.
He shouts in color and heatwaves, desperately trying to ask for my forgiveness.
"I didn't mean to scare you,"
I see red above me.
"please come back".
Somehow I can never escape the metallic noise that seems to possess me.
Why can't I leave him?

hand picked lovers
slide swords down my tongue
piercing pain spills
in my own solitude
narcotics don't help with the blood
swollen, I can't think.
pick the cotton out
piece by piece
until my head clears
until the bleeding stops

To express oneself is the greatest breakthrough a human can make.

Here is something to do more than simply survive...
More than just existing...

There is an infinite rainbow of ways to weave
Love into our lives
And show each other

That trick of the light.

Life force awakens
And forces its way
Through the hard dirt
Cracking through the density
Of all the life that once was
Now, beneath the surface
Ready to become
Something new

My breath deepens
My rib cage expanding
My stomach fills with butterflies
My heart surging with electricity

Something new is moving through me
Pregnant with life
But not with child
My being begs to
Release
Surrender
And allow
The birth of
Something new

the gaudy grey of morning leaks,
the hot star following close behind.
like clementines in a market bag:
our weight pools inward.
sweat wicks into stained linens-
sticky skin, pressed back to back.
   good morning.

An eternal dance of creation.

One can not exist without the other.

Sun and Moon
Life and Death
Heaven and Hell
Man and Woman
Light and Dark

Creating something new
With each step

Birthing new worlds
With every embrace

Push, pull
In a trance

Weaving threads of time and space
The physical and invisible

This cosmic duality dances together
And from union
Comes creation.

I hate that I don't know why I want to talk to you,
I don't even want you back,
not even as a friend.
We were once flying colors, never seen by the naked eye,
but over time you changed.
You changed into something I never dreamed you'd become.
Nowadays, I wonder if you regret not satisfying me.
Does that haunt you, at least a little bit?
Do you even care about me?
Did you ever, really?
You are just an eclipse in my mind now.
Nothing but a shadow in the sky.
Looming over me ever presently,
I wonder if you'll ever move on.

Maybe I'll end up in the forest, the mountains,
maybe even the city.
I think no matter where I go,
so long as the summer blues don't consume,
I will be happy.
And I know,
"Don't wait until the right place, the right time, to be happy"
But god forbid, I stay in this sweltering abyss of heat.
Wet and somber, impossible to find solace in nature.

That might be it.

I had a dream I was on top of a hill
Looking at the stars and feeling the earth
Holding me so still
I wept and knew the truth

Everything was a miracle
The mystery was Love
The games disappeared
And we were one
And the same yet
Uniqueness in us all

From the dream, I awoke
Finally able to see by knowing
The truth was the same and it all was God
The spiral of the universe unfurling like a flower in infinite bloom

Death didn’t scare me anymore.
It was the same as any other moment

I found my home
My place
My belonging within the universe
All of the illusions dissolved and nothing mattered
In the most freeing and beautiful of ways
I glimpsed the Garden of Eden
The moment of infinite conception
Rebirth, death, life.
Ego subsided
Earthly worries ceased

There was perfect harmony.
And in the end

I was the all and the all was me.

I feel like my friends and I have been lounging away in a great bubble,
compressed to the point of mental isolation.
I need it to collapse now:
pop, pop, pop.

How can I help myself reach out of this seclusion?
Isn't it humorous, how once as children, the thought of this loneliness would stem from solitude itself.
And now, all you wish for, is to be at the bottom of a swimming pool,
among shouts and splashes, truly alone.

I come home into my cozy space,
my bed is waiting for me.
I let my clothes fall, and begin.
I lay for a moment, limbs stretched out wide, embracing the air around me.
I stretch on the floor
and write out all the mess of which resides in my busy head.
I clear space to read
and wind down in the bathtub,
wash my face and give back to my body.
I'm in bed by 9 P.M.
I can rest easy knowing I'm calm, clean, and collected.
I pull the curtains closed and lay my head down,
letting my eyes relax and close on their own.
It's time to rest.

four walls, and the ceiling above me.

the ins of the walls are pattering about,
the air conditioner unit rattles in my right ear,
while your pristine chest rises and falls perfectly to my left.

“leaky pipes” you said.
sounded like mice getting lost.

moonlight bites through the windows-
light gossips onto soft parts of you:
your eyelids, the crescent shape of your cheeks,
lips pressed, neatly together.
i hear your smoothed breath
and i’m thinking about what you said about how i make you feel a way you never have before-
and i told you the same.
how lucky does some ******* need to be to find: that certain person-
who fits in and around and throughout each corner of your body?
your mind?
your romantic, ******, more sensual feelings-
feelings that burn with and without you.
heat bores into my chest, laying awake, next to you-
    i am whole
    i am whole
    i am whole
i say to myself, silently.
i wouldn’t mind this feeling-
lingering on every day, and every night
    repeat repeat repeat.
coffee for breakfast.
a warm nap for lunch.
laughs for dinner.
*** for dessert.
    and dessert again, and again, and again.
until i am met with witching hour’s quiet breath:
   repeat.

Truth be told, I don't think I'll ever find my 'thing'.
I'm coming to terms with that.
There is no need for me to try and attempt a reason,
a drive, anything of the sort.
My drive and reason should be allowed to flow such as water moves:
Cycles.
There is no purpose, other than to move and do and be.
I can do anything, at any time.
There does not have to be a thing I subscribe to, because if I am honest with myself, I am bursting at the seams with movement and non-movement
and that is okay.

I wake up, open the white curtains,
open the blinds to let the light in.
Brush my teeth, drink a glass of water, and make tea in the clean kitchen.
I open the living room windows,
light pours in.
I make my bed and read a book while sipping from my warm cup.
I write and stretch,
then settle in to meditate on the hardwood floor.
Lavender scents fill the air, and I inhale calmly.
I am ready to start the day.

Day dreams about solitude, high up in the mountains.
Reading, writing, gardening,
blissful silence, yet full of the music surrounding me.
Not to be disturbed, only by the whispers of clouds and gentle birdsong outside of my window.
Rain pats down on broad leaves.
It's peaceful; I don't move.
Standing by the open door with steam from fresh brewed tea kissing my cheeks, I smile to myself, by myself.
I've never felt so warm.