my heart flutters at
the way she speaks my name.
"lover", she hums,
and i watch speechless as woebegone
drips from her lips. she
tastes like moonlight
when she kisses me. fragile.
unknown. known.
when our bodies meet
i can't imagine living life any
differently than this;
magnetism draws me closer and
i am intoxicated and sobered and
and i let my fingers
trace symphonies over her skin
love songs and love letters
and the lust of
knowing that this is belonging.
we fold into each other
and it is inevitable. i want to
learn her, learn
every part of her, as if
it's what my soul was sent to do;
her heartbeat weaves a
gossamer of beauty and
she leaves it in the crease of my
neck. "lover".
lightworker. twinflame.
architect of this home, these
two arms that sing safety
into rose quartz bones.
this is harmony.
i release a held breath and
whisper back, "always".
this is my promise.

oh how i wished the sun would stop shining for
just
one
moment
but the darkness never came
every day grew to be the same
like playing a game
of chess, of cards
go fish, but dont swim too far

id start a new religion if i could
insane, unimaginable
people dont pray anymore
i dont know why they should
you dont need a god
to tell you to behave

its a ludicrous lust for love
if you ask me
a meaningless mingling of lost souls
who wish for nothing more
than a star to call their own

I stole a heart today
so what
mine was stolen
a very long time ago
and no one cared
so what should I do
about that heart
which now lies
in the pocket
of my little shorts
gathering dust
maybe I could replace
the black hole
inside my chest
where my stolen heart
used to be
but then again
I thought
how now there was
someone just like me
with a hole in their chest
and they will have to
steal their own heart
to fill the void
just like I will now
that's the circle of life
I guess

in the morning
faces blurry faces
crossing my way
they sleep on the sidewalks
falling heavily from the skies
smiling at the ones they hate
flowers in their hair
and thorns in their hearts
will never let them go
but they try anyway
although they know it's hopeless
trying to be something they're not
even though it hurts
them and those around them
they keep on
because they have to
they have nothing else to do
nothing else to hope for
stories their stories
that will never be read
and songs of their lives
which we forgot as fast
as the wind blows
around the faces
the blurry faces
that cross my way
in the morning
after a hot cup of coffee
that we drink to stay awake
in the lives that bore us
because we don't know anything else
not that we didn't try to know
we did

One side, two sides
where should I go?
I ask my friends
but how can they know
where one side starts and the other ends

One side, two sides
where should I stand?
I ask my friends
but they fail to understand
the meaning that my message sends

One side, two sides
what should I do?
I ask my friends
but they have problems, too
so I'll pray until the problem mends

I've never been good at
Being touched.

Though the fingers
Of endless suitors
Have traced incomparable
Lines of affection,
They all stroke
The same wounds.

New hands feel like
Recycled lullabies,
Humming promises
Of a new melody,
Singing a remedy for
My impassivity.

Whether words fall
Passionate or
Fearful,
Endearment lines my lips
With an expiration
Long enough to convince me,
But short enough to leave me.

Reminding me:
The disintegration of
Indifference
Remains
My prerequisite
For destruction.

So before you
Touch me with
Promises of a new
Orchestration,
I'm already marking the
Days until you leave.

Because my skin
Is tired of
Intruders hidden
Behind momentary
Infatuation.

So keep your hands to yourself.

I saw galaxies in your eyes
But all you saw in mine was your own reflection.