Amber ribbons
in a flaming sunset ...
I think of your eyes aglow,
heart aflame when you loved me        

we walked hand in hand
on blonde sandy shorelines as
persimmon suns faded        
into romantic nights,
memories evoked
whenever I see
mesmerizing  
amber ribbons

Time is truly an illusion.
these minute, these hours
don’t actually matter
if we choose to ignore them.

When you first kissed me
time didn’t stop
it just swirled and twisted
morning went back to sleep
the Earth’s rotation faltered
and the glass face of a pocket watch
shattered

we laughed at the world
and their silly clocks
we screamed we are tenseless
from the all the mountain tops we climbed
as we burned every last american spirit
and listened to the absence of time
I whispered
Baby we are the now and the now is what all we need
we didn't care about our future or our past
they were occurring all at the same time
we lived in the waist of an hourglass

when we laid in bed
I forgot that time ever moved linearly.
I forgot that outside of our little world,
clocks were ticking,
days were passing,
and snow was melting.
we were encased in a moment
we lived in every lapse of time.
where clock hands stay fast to their post



I didn’t expect things to last forever
because forever is a unit of time
but i've seen the sun set and rise 62 times
since i saw you
      with your watch wound
and ready to go forward

fire burns slowly
it feeds on the dead
red hot flames
coaxing strength into ash
it used to burn through me
charring pale white skin
with its all-consuming hunger
forcing blood to pump through my veins
forcing blood to drip down my legs
it is my own fire
that scarred me so beautifully
it clenched my teeth
and wrenched my eyes wide open
red-flickering across the the smooth surface
of blue green eyes
until the needle pierced me
and fed the ocean to my veins
freezing deep blue flood
extinguishing the searing hot
that once forced me to live
the water drips into my lungs
killing all the smoke I stored there
then it rushes in too quickly
all that's left is ice
crystallized behind a glaze
of blue green ever shifting eyes
where passion once burned bright
brutally murdered by
the crash of smothering waves
infinitely taller than my will power
disguised as good intentions

Self-medicate to keep the hatred down
Self-medicate to keep the ***** down
Self-medicate to keep the sadness down
Self-medicate and pick your poison
pick the one you haven't tried for a newer
buzz
for a newer feeling
for a newer hate
self-medicate, extrapolate
miss yourself and all the hate
because the devil is mine today
the devil is mine today
to do with what I please
self-medicate and fall
a spiral
a helix
something familiar to feel the feelings
something familiar to feel the people cry
self-medicate to feel your mother cry
what am I becoming today, who shall I be
a dashing rogue who doesn't care, someone alone
a dashing rogue at the bottom of an ocean
with a portal to another world where I am normal
where I matter
*self-medicate

do not fall in love with a poet
unless you can accept flickering candles at obscene hours
and ink stains that cover their fingers and clothes
and constant eye bags that they may need you to kiss

do not fall in love with a poet
unless you handle them dropping all and suddenly
composing
and then shutting you out in frustration of imperfection
sometimes words just do not do the things that they want

do not fall in love with a poet
if you do not appreciate paragraphs about your eyes
or if you do not have very beautiful prose
your simplicity will scare; they will simply hide their heart

do not fall in love with a poet
and solely be swept away by their mesmerizing verses
they will take you and transfix you in the dead of the night
leaving you breathless
but they'll be gone by morning

*k.c.

Spoke to a near and dear friend today who relayed a story to me, asked me to write something about it, then requested I shared it. Thanks to all of you who do what you must.

I was feeling most light
To start this day
But now I confess
That has gone away


I will reveal things
Some consider dark
And be very frank
Though you may find it stark

I have hunted and killed
The most elusive of prey
Hoping to never re-visit
That final day

And though I bury the memory
It seems to rise from the dead
Once again though as yesterday
Living in my head

The last look on his face
The last living soul to see
The confusion and surrender
His life showed unto me

Not like I had a choice
It was his life or mine
Only one of us would ever see
Once again the sunshine

One of us or another
Would ever again know life
That's how it is
At the point of a knife

One life is ended
Another goes on
Only one of us would see
Another dawn

You call it PTSD
I call it life
Living to tell the story
At the tip of the knife.