I am in limbo
      between universes
between stars
I am ensconced
       in my own light
in tangible luminance
stored deep inside
                   tiny
                      glass jars
I am whirling into new orbit
     as I take on this luster,
                 this shine
I furl forth choices
in magic spells weaving
                   and take back        
what was always
so rightfully mine
I now hold the staff
      that will part the seas
of my new way
       in this labor
because, honey, there
ain't no time
to waste
no horse
        no glowing, knighted savior
Until this hour
              I was crawling
         but I now I start to rise
as I have my final say
               and the northern lights
         spew out from behind my eyes
I am through with
          this land of ice, land of jagged spires
It is time to bust up
             all those submissive plans
          and spray the whole
place with arctic fire
yeah time to mark it
juice it up
till it licks up pain, till it burns
release pent up years
              of unneeded conflict,
of tensed up
           twists and turns
so just you try
to break me apart
as I try to navigate
between tectonic plates
on two lands
The only knight here
          is my own true self
the situation neatly
in my
     hot little hands

my darling is fearful
I want the best for her
she is sad but she's the luminous moon
you would disagree and cause a stir

I told you that you aren't your fear
you let it define you anyway
she called to her voices
told the darkness to stay

the moon was hiding from me
no where to be seen yet right in front of me
I looked right through her, she was not the same
locked up inside but her craters spoke I'm free

-a.h.

To me, words sing. They carry me up to the heavens and drag me down to the depths.

Sentences soar. They lie there, dripping with juicy meaning as they whisper softly.

Descriptions dance. Well paced prose or the precise hitting of phonetic notes are a symphony to my ears.

Pearls are found amongst the thickest of slime. Masterpieces of diction, form and character one can uncover, buried underneath the deepest mires of messiness.

These glorious works, both lengthy and pointed, are attractive for one main reason: the thoughts and flavour they contain.
These concepts swirl and crystalise like intricate snowflakes and make me think, 'If only life was always like this'.

Webbed connections spin and mesh, reflections and shattered mirrors are found everywhere. The hallmarks of beauty and the breath of the Divine mix with dark and twisted truths. Great words and those more humble writings weave a magnificent tapestry indeed.

i have wasted so much paper for you
i have told strangers things i haven't thought about telling you
i have written poetry like
its a cheap substitute for therapy
and i've held the pencil so hard the lead breaks
when my hands shake too much to keep going
i have gone to all of these great lengths
i have written epics about the way you left me
i have written sonnets about how you came back
ive never shown you any of this in fear you will see how my handwriting slowly deteriorates into shaky lines and abstract complaints
in fear that you will make the connection that i havent spent one day free of you since we met
i feel like i have so much to say
and maybe im an expert on beating around the bush
or maybe you're just too self absorbed to hear me
i have tried every way to encrypt my words and say them without letting their meaning sink into your skin
ive got enough for a novel but i havent made my point
i love you
stop hurting me

and you'll know what it is when you see it
and your throat begins to constrict
and your chest feels heavier
and it is just difficult to breathe
and you can feel emotions bubbling up from the pit of your stomach
and you know you are going to cry
and the memories come flooding back
and you know you just can't bear to feel again
and despite knowing this you don't look away
and you begin to wonder whether you actually like the pain
and it is getting more difficult to breathe
and you know that soon you are going to be overwhelmed
and you do nothing to stop it because it was a part of you for so long it demands to be felt and accepted wholly, completely it demands that you cling onto it and never let it go it wants your attention it need you attention it does not care about you it cares about your attention you fool stop living in the past the past is the past it is over get over it
but
you
never
will