We suffer the wounds of the dead without knowing.
Until, finally,
It is our turn to die.
We create the scars
The future is haunted by-
Architects of our own disdain.
Cycles cannot be tamed
Only broken.
Humanity has never changed.
Evolution means
Molding into something greater
Than what was.
I dare not refer to myself
By the name
The dead bequeathed to me.
I no longer am.
I can only become.

Fickle memories
Trickle
Down the pickled grooves
Of the brain.

Truth, over time,
Becomes distorted,
But the feelings remain.

The mind decays
And the heart remembers
The warmth of sun rays-
How violently they kiss the skin.
"Did I put on sunscreen today??"

A moment frozen in time
Plays in an endless loop
In my medulla, but its just a feeling;
I cant quite recall the actual scene it alludes to.

I've become exposed nerve-
Reacting only to touch,
I no longer seem to remember much.

I dont even know what I should know.

Oh..

There it is.

Blindness:
A courtesy to myself
To not be crushed
By gravity.

In these times,
Caring is not impossible,
But heroic.

But *******,
I am only

Mortal.

Have I become a vestige of memory?
Are words the only thing keeping me....

Alive?

I fear death; both literal and metaphorical.

These letters trickle from my veins-
Crimson rain
To let you know
I'm still up there
Pouring my all
Into whatever container
You need filled.

I am not dead.....

Still

No me entiendes
Simplemente por que no quieres
Hacer el esfuerzo.
es culpa de nadien-
No queremeos amor
Sin retorno;
Lo entiendo,
Pero sin Valor,
Tal vez
Es justo
Que nunca
Ganamos
Nada.

"Would you follow me
Willfully
To your own destruction?"

Yes
Yes
Yes,
I love
Burning
In the flames
Of flawed
Love

Where have you gone?
Have you absconded
To somewhere better.
I'm accustomed to loneliness,
But I still hate feeling lonely.
I fester in memories
That keep me an invalid
To love.
If I didn't think you're touch could save me
I'd leave you alone,
But I am prone
To romantic ideas
That have no basis in reality.