Twirling on an oil slicked floor


Faster
Faster

Never stopping to see for sure

Faster
Faster

If what you want is the cure

Faster
Faster

For your pulsing heart
Faster Faster
Growing close
FasterFaster


STOP


as you slip
and your feet
are no longer
beneath you
and in slow motion face the ground
beneath you
and it swallows you up
the darkness intruding
on your vision
closing in
on your dreams
as you slip
past the incongruities
of destiny and fate
of love and lust
of passion and gentleness
and all
Is Still.

The pain that pricked
me so curiously...

Not an aching or a throb
but an all out assault
on my stomach
a nagging
a stab

An insistent ****
in my side
the side I cling to
when the pain is too much

The side you laid your hand on
to tell me it was going to be
okay

But 'okay' only suffices
for the mind
and does not ease the pain
caused by this thorn
in my side.

Its slippery surface denies me
the ability to pull it out,
and I have not the resources
or the will to remove it.

Somehow I've become accustomed
to this stabbing, unsettling sensation
and as a developing *******,
It seems that I like it there.

Like a friend when no one
is there to listen
the thorn is still at my side

Willing to listen
as it buries itself deeper
for a long chat

As a beloved growth
now a part of myself
if I ripped it out,
I too would perish.

Therefore, it lives with me,
in my side,
along side me
aiding me with grief
and providing a
bit of its own.

Take my hand but
Don't hold on
Let me hug you
But push me away

As
Dangerous as
an Intoxicating Drug
Smoldering in your soul

As your emotions
burn into stone
Etching a permanant
scar into your sleeve

As you wear your
heartache on your sleeve
With a burn hole and a scar
that empty spot that once was full
Will be replaced with nothing

Because I'm saving you from myself
I cannot comfort your pain
Because I am what the hurt consists of
I am the root of your heart's torture

You may not see it
But it is as clear as day
that I must save you from myself
so that you might heal

So that you might live
to find yourself anew,
Create a better life
loving someone else

For I am a poision that will
Rot you with sweetness
**** you with care
Martyring myself for
your relief

And the only way to detach your
dependence on me
is for me
to
disappear

The area between clarity and
Indecision
Is where my mind always tends to stay

As it creeps into this colorless
Vision
Time melts and one night can turn into days

Grey Gray Grey
Bleeds into the fabric of my mind
Dying everything its bland yet putrid color

Ambiguous gestures
and a fleeting glance
Wrap their fingers 'round my neck
and they smother
Creativity, Life, Solitide
Noise Noise Noise
Blocking my creative release

As the muttled disposition
that my body defaults to
displays a disgruntled
shoe salesman
No one guesses at,
Knows what I go through
No one reads past the grey

Dissolution and no one
can see the clarity
In a cup of water with
stirred in dirt

The dirt keeps on swirling
and refuses to settle
To see the pearl
in the bottom of the glass
becomes impossible

The little pearl of hope
its white irradescent
luminescence
That reflects everything in
a milky white silk gaze

But no one can see it
past the grey gray muck
of muddled inquisition
of a muttered note of
agreeableness

Take me on this summer afternoon

Sizzling heat cooling off the soon
related factions of the precipice in
my mind

The underhanded broken chains that
whisper in my sleep
that choke me as
I unknowingly gaze into
the face of eternity

Melting together the
bonds of society to my broken
identity
to them this is nothing but
a game

Corner street societies
smokingly gaze at my uncomfortable
place as I try to wriggle free
from the grip with which
they are holding me tonight

Is the night
Such a beautiful night
and they call it
Bella Noche

Undistrubed and peaceful bliss
Wrapped in a bacon strip
greased up in oily fat
that will be eaten by a docile cat
that has no inclination to think about
these things
that bind him to his master

Laying on the floor Lying in wake
Waiting for the Blank
that will not come

Can't find the words
that express my face
It's all inside this shell
of Blank_

Dictionary aiding the soul
but is burned in translation
A darkness that fufills the rose
and is Blank devestation.

To express
To create
To release
To share
To unburden
To Blank__.

Feigning sleep,

that creepy creature of the night
as it sinks into my bones making them
creak with exhaustion

Awaiting the telltale buzz of a phone at my side
to hear his voice,
to be ushered into sleep peacefully
and loved.

To feel that warm delicate feeling
touch my heart then to radiate from
the inside out
like kind tendrils of vines
craddling nature's child as she sleeps.

So he warms my soul and calms my mind
Love so deep it makes you blind
and robs you of reality but in place of it
offers a sweet sub-reality,
A blissful get-away
My own personal vacation.

Then you sweetly set my feet on the ground,
Bringing me back to reality,
But all the while holding my hand.

I answer the phone

and say hello

as my heart soars.