Close your eyes

Your world, not extending
beyond the soft quilt under
your skin, unending


Soft ripples of cloth, and picturesque seams
Nothing here but
You, me, the sky, and soft dreams

I'll reach up and take the stars from the sky
If only to lay them at your feet
to place them in your hands
to bring light into those glazed eyes
or give a glow to a world so bland

and each one would be folded
into a beautiful origami castle
I, the lord, and you, the vassal
Or perhaps me as the king
and you as a queen, whichever
My gentle playmate.. which one is better?

I'm a majestic creature of the sky
You're an empty-faced child on a quilt
Each star shall be used as a stepping stone
so I might meet you in the place I built


Let us meet, as lovers, or
at least equals
on this starry floor

Mister, misses
A snake's tongue
To sounds of hisses
A caged bird
The spoken word
Breathe life into me
Or kick me to the curb

For I am human
I am only me
Not justified by anyone
Or anything else
You may see
Picture this, picture that
I'm not looking to offend you
Or contemplate an attack

I have seen myself
From my inner spirit
As I dream the day away
To write a song, and
Perhaps someday, hear it
For music is my passion
And writing is my attraction
And as a wonderful couple
Together, they equal my
Purpose, significance, and
My call to action.

Neurons travel and wind
around your head like
draping tree branches, Christmas lights,
strings of tangled red yarn
weaving a possible
fate.

When the cords are
simply content with
remaining relatively still,
being with you
is like
sailing on smooth,
tranquil, clear blue waters
of a vast, magnificent
ocean,
a blossomed sunset
in the distance
dripping on white, sandy shores
of an island of lost paradise
awaiting our arrival.

But when the cords
flail and twist, tying each other
into knots and cutting off
the clearness
and levelheadedness of thought,
being with you
is like
trying to hang on to
the back of a typhoon,
frigid black waters flailing,
crashing against
foamy, thick quicksand,
roars and curses of a
tyrant sea god
raging seas of water against
the skies,
rapidly expelling
hurtful, sharp anchors and lunging
them to the bottom
of our sandy beds.

And I wonder
what it would be like had I
possessed more
powerful features
as your sea goddess,
as the moon and stars
from above,
and the sandy beds
below that would
catch both
hurtful anchors and
salty tears
you let loose.

I feel like I'm stuck.
I'm crying,
Crying for help.
But no one can hear me.
They're deaf,
I'm mute.
No matter how hard I try to relay to them,
That I keep sinking down farther and farther,
Using my hands and my ****** expressions,
I seem to have forgotten
That they are also blind.

How can it be?
Just a few days ago,
I felt okay about this.
This whole thing:
Us,
The future,
And what it could hold.
Probably good things.
But just like all good things,
That have happened in my life,
They have been ****** away,
Into the vacuum of despair.
Now I'm terrified,
And I can't tell if this will last.
I don't know if I want it to.