My eyes don’t meet your mystery ones
because I’m afraid you’ll see
the absence of light in my cores
and conclude we’ll never be

My eyes shy from yours,
but not for why you think
I’m hiding the lack of twinkle
behind closed lids when I blink

Empty, which of us is empty?
At this point, I can’t tell
Your touch doesn’t titillate me
Au contraire, it makes me dwell

I don’t wish to discourage
though I do it rather well
I’m tense and distant, yes
How ever could you tell?

Right.
What is right?
Nothing that comes from me.
Wrong.
Am I wrong?
Doubtful; it's all I'll ever be.

Underappreciated.
Undeserving. Which weighs
heavier on my heart and mind?
My conscience is crippled
I can't count the ripples
of sadness chasing behind

Solitary isolation
From loving interaction
I wither, alone, inside myself
I wish to shred my skin to bits
Cry what I detest with every stitch

Am I right to feel
Anything at all?
Doubtful; I'm always wrong.

Allowing the dust to settle
And the hovering mist to part
You can't live inside of my mind,
There's more space for you in my heart

I keep myself busy to stay aflame
While the world slowly turns
I'm sprinting through days that blur
And suffering through the burns

Toggling between elation and insecurity
Emotions aren't permanent, only temporary
Experience has taught me everyone goes eventually

Resilient to adversity shrouding me
In its tethering web of prickly hairs
Mourning the nascence of elation
And all of the splendor it bewares
A cocktail of hormones straight to the dome
Nostalgia hitting in waves

Dragging me back in time to those hopeless romantic days

Nothing really to whine about this time
Throwing out your past does wonders for the mind
Almost done dwelling on what doesn’t need to be
Organized stacks of fantasies...clutter free
Premonitions poured from the heart of me
I couldn’t comprehend love til now
Been meaning to burn old written words
and release their content away
The day has come that all of me will allow
the desecration of the unrequited days
dragged too far along in life
because the idea still remained
Stopped loitering on too many side-thoughts
Got caught up with the right train
Been warmer in the cold this time around
These days, I don’t mind rain

Tired, too tired to think anymore
mapping who's taking the bed and who's taking the floor
when it's bedtime for one + one more
I won't sleep easy on the other side of the door
How many drinks was too many for him?
Is she as drunk as he or merely attached to his hip?
Why didn't I drink til my vision blurred
so I wouldn't care to hang on every enunciated word
Stuck on the tricycle, always the third wheel
without an outlet to express the feelings that I feel
I stow away behind my teeth the words I keep because
I'm weak and wish I had the strength to speak,
to know the change I seek
The tension is seeping from my dead eyes and
this endearing disguise will be all you will see

Sensual this time, platonic the next—
let’s not be one too often
regardless of optional ***

Let’s keep things spaced     out
so emotions don’t grow    too strong
You may have the right intentions,
but these notions are wrong

Don’t tickle my complex
into laughing away current issues
    I want to say “I love you”
    and suffice for “I miss you”
   The last thing I want to do
   is overwhelm you with words
you’re not accustomed to
so I’ll snuggle you closer,
as close as two beings can be,
and imagine bonding our skin
fusing intricately

   I connect with you
  on another plane
   and I’m dependent upon
your amorous pain

and I wish and hope and
inevitably know there’s not
a chance between us again
when we’ll be anything more than
just friends (here and then)
   because you and I are going
   through the same stages of life
   simultaneously, yet
   alone and lonely

I can’t stop dreaming of you
  and your astral projection
won’t stop sauntering
into my alternate universe
where our bodies collide
and you wriggle and writhe
underneath me.

I’ve become fixated with you
  and all the sounds you make;
your ragged breaths
and guttural guffaws
and the quiver
in your libidinous voice.

I find myself daydreaming
of your magnificent eyes,
bristling bright with fervor
as my vocal chords
give more pleasure
to your skin
than your ears.

I wish I could sleep for days
just to have you
      All to myself
on the alternate plane
of pleasure

feeling like I wanna fight you
  shaking because I wanna bite you
   wondering just how to invite you
   into my private domain

radiating aphrodisia
  developing synesthesia
   for the natural taste of euphoria
   that's stuck to my fingertips

breathing heavily
  fondling steadily
   reckless intensity
   all to a sweet melody

My infatuation meter is
on the fritz
It hasn't worked
since the reading of you
When I come in contact
with others,
no sort of result is
produced

The spark inside
has finally died,
and you're the one who drenched it
in crocodile tears -- claiming you're too weak
to face your fears...it's like looking
at a reflection of
myself this year...

We could have battled them all
      together
But instead we're settled to
     friends of fair-weather
I am the one who is suffering;
for
still today, you appear
                                      in my dreams

Decades from now,
I envision my
solitary conquest:
Success;
from recording my innards
I've always repressed
And of course,
an unfilled void, I fear not
to attest
All because that spark
inside me remained
unaddressed

But I have no more patience
or time to invest
in a folly; I'll rid
of my broken meter I
now detest
It died with you, now perhaps
your memory too
may be finally
laid to rest

Time has molded each of us
into the perfect shape,
has defined our edges finely,
has smoothed our surfaces so slick so
we may slide into one another
and make a perfect fit.

Periodic change
is needed for those who grow
complacent quickly.

Remain Open with
Your Self, Your Heart, Your Mind, and
Happiness you'll find

My skin is eight different kinds of dry
my fingers shorting like circuits
my mind ventured near permafried
but boosts of serotonin were worth it

My hands didn't get enough
of the good time beneath those layers
They were timid and shaky, too coy
for your self-assured bares

I can't paint the picture of you and I
the canvas is blank until colors collide
wide strokes of red to signify the
passion bleeding from my insides

I'm on the edge of my seat
precariously perched
anxiously gripping the edge
of your tousled and wrinkled shirt

I've waited for you to catch on
but oblivion runs deep, my dear
I'll speak my mind, loud and clear
It is you I want; I want you here

The smell of your skin
is too familiar
It’s almost like we’ve
gone back in time
   To the days when I could
   caress my favorite features
   of yours—your hands—
   without a second thought
but I’m wondering if
this is too much, if I’m
crossing a line, or
if I’m zig-zagging streams
on the bar graph of time
and a calamitous end
will meet all entangled

Your strengthening grip
on my hip assures me though,
that nothing outside of this
firm mattress covered by
sky blue sheets with bleach stained clouds
matters—at all—so let’s lay here
for ten hours straight
and bask in the warmth
of each other’s glowing souls,
reconnected at last,
   with old questions drowning
  in the abyss of the unknown
because why would I ruin a
moment so perfect as this?

Every window of hope
    
  SLAMS shut

as if

I was never supposed
to sneak out

   and make you mine

I don’t agree with gravity
in this regard, for it is you
    who has stolen my heart

   and you covet it, unknowingly
    and instigate these flirtations
leaving me drunk with elation

No, it’s not just the alcohol
that leaves me giggling like a child
  
It’s that you and I,
are nearly the same kind
ultimately compatible
We see eye to eye,

but only one of us realizes

The condensed pressure

of arithmetic has been

alleviated

I’m feeling as if I’m writing no longer for myself,
but for the absent critique of those I admire
I’m convinced I’ll never produce a work
that will gain the recognition I aspire

My passion is derived from what I don’t possess
Short tales of love and dignity
My words fall short of second-best
It seems I’ll never grasp this feat

My creative drive sputters ink,
but dies short of my expectations
That distorted voice of self-pity
reminds me of my own limitations

I fail to progress in this line of art
and doubt all of my capabilities
I fear the day when my spark dies
and writing is no longer a proclivity

We’re so bad
Partners in crime
Breaking house rules
Ignoring the time

Scheming in the night
Intensity matched
Struck together

a fervency as active
as a constant eruption
filling our lungs with gasps

Keep my hands to yourself
and I’ll keep yours close
Don’t give them back

Reawakened, I kindle this fire
for it is a precious warmth
I will put out if I breathe too deeply

and it’s getting cold out…

I thought I knew how to string a web
of realizations around my six of hearts,
but playing cards and not cashing in
makes no sense to pessimists that drink
not often enough

Emotions are hairy and tarantulas are scary
Strawberry wine has a buttery aftertaste, he says
So why am I feeling like I don’t know anything
after expressing my thoughts I can’t sort out?

What makes sense? Not these words
Knowing yourself is figuring out the infinite piece
puzzle you’ll never finish because they’re scattered
all about to everyone you love
But they’ll never complete you like you want them to

Tears come naturally like rain from the sky
Salty droplets, trickling down from your puffy eyes
There’s a frog in your throat, croaking louder than ever
Is this enough nonsense for you?

I’m a versatile
  night owl
peering with dark-rimmed eyes
upon my prey, those sorts of guys
that make me quiver
   hairline touch shiver
and pulse with a fervent scene

all showered and shaved,
gussied and primped,
with no one to touch
hence a lonely night spent
tapping away on plastic keys
to people near and far over seas,
who mimic my movements
directly through the screen
typing away, writing obscene
poetry and fiction
with articulate diction
of tales of titillating touches
by our celebrity crushes,
for our realistic lives
are in a lasting drought,
therefore fervent encounters are without
but the passion that burns
lies in our lust-less yearn
to be held, touched, and stimulated,
sensually caressed and dominated
depictions of kink send sparks
to particularly my lady parts
and the desire for one's touch
becomes almost too much,
so I channel these feelings
that leave my nerves reeling,
and loneliness settles in
before I can even begin
to describe the touch
of which I cannot feel
and wish the instances
I fabricate with words
could only be real

I emptied my chest;

An old casket encasing

a dying blood pump.

Sleep; an essential part of life--
a non-essential part of my night
I shall not travel to the land of slumber and
imagery that leave me to ponder and
decipher the undertone of my unconscious desires

Sleep, you will not store my memories tonight
You play as something illusory occuring past midnight
You vanquish the beginning of my day
and I fall victim of the bed to lay
for hours and hours when there is much to do,
much to ignore, and to fail to follow through

Sleep, I won't succumb to your relieving wiles
You interrupt my mind's process of files
and collages of information
Admittedly, you aid in the retention
of the aforementioned,
but I'd rather learn than burn away
precious time improving myself--
documenting my imbalanced mental health
or recreating art I wished I produced

Sleep, though I love the lucid dreams you induce,
sometimes they make me become more of a recluse
because I never want them to end,
so I stay alone to reenact and pretend that
for just a little while longer,
I can feel passion again

I've been desensitized in a chimerical fashion
I cannot endure this now so I'm commencing action
Sleep, I'm taking a break from your comatose spell
and the ephemeral dreams you compel

Determination
shouldn't expire at the
cost of an alarm.

Taking things slow
but certainly daydreaming of you
every chance I get.
Maybe I’m just taken
  by the idea of it all
  because ideas excite me
and I want to manifest them
but become overwhelmed
   with taking it slow--
I do the opposite.
I feed on the ideal
and swallow the real
without savoring every bit;
I narrow my scope
and remember static feelings
so my body doesn’t forget
that I’m switched on your circuit,
charged and ready to go,
when I should be focused
  on taking it slow.

Drinking alone can make for good conversation
New things are learned, said or inferred
Who am I speaking to
     and am I heard?
Nature’s beauties surround me
and I’ve killed with neglect
    Unintentional
but always aware
   My lips tingle and my tongue
writhes, my body breathes in
the expulsion of shelved speakers
and my membranes arouse
because I’m redirected to you
   Always to you;
I’d like to hear your voice
but I predict you won’t answer if I call
Following through will result in disappointment
I expected, so why bother?
Predetermination — a convoluted structure
that remains the source of my reflection
   And misdirection
There was a rush of
thoughts like rapid waters
straight to my skull, cracking
  my will to break like a dam
bursting forth with so much emotion
you will drown in it, even if
you hold your breath to infinity

Savor it
Entwined limbs
circulating warmth
Lips sealed together
A misty evening,
thanks to the weather
Minds connected
Harmonious scents
from private places
Serenity among faces
Calloused hands
rubbing forever
A feeling I want
to last

Silence;
a blank page
without whispered textures
upon its face
A settling absence
of auditory stimuli
or a nerve-wracking presence
between your temples
The stillness in the air
conforms around you,
dousing you with complacence;
A lingering tone
will commence the mood
and cause a stir inside you
slaying your sanity
to bits

I don't feel like myself today
Maybe I stayed too long in bed
I feel vacant, my soul trailing
lazily over my head
I don't want to Be
               Today
I don't want to see
               Today
Characteristics are gone
               Today
    Only an entity
               Today
I am my own enemy
               Today
I could be my own best friend
but why even pretend
Everything around fills me with dread
I wish I could have stayed in bed
Connections are dead
               Today
Wish that were me instead
               Today
Tomorrow is a short blink away
   I'll open my eyes after
                Today

Hot flashes
of caring gestures,
warming tender hearts
pass before the act
can commense
Cold chills
of lonliness
visions of pity
spike blood—
prepare for the wave
of debilitating repetition

Pounding heads and churning guts lie
next to me on an old quilt under fleece
Still stuffy air enters heavy lungs and leaves
Coming over the hill behind the sea
was an overwhelming sight to see
Endless gray intersecting with sky
reflecting backward and forwards
where perspective meets the eye
Rotted plankwood will lead to demise
executed by jagged shore rock and waves
carrying one away to the ephemeral light
bobbing below the surface that fades
Out with the old days to make room for new,
recounting last year’s glaze
Remembering like it was yesterday
how sick you’d gotten so soon
A tender heart I’ll always have,
and an old, nurturing soul, too
Awakened by life with fresh eyes,
stimulating a walk to take with you

Death is among us

it breathes and lingers,

capturing the unexpected

with its alluring fingers

It's so overwhelming

knowing each breath could be your last

The things that get you

are the things from your past

Some don't deserve it,

some crave its touch

Some have decided

that they'd like it very much

To see the light,

to see the dark

To see the one

that bares the mark

Something more powerful

is out there for sure

Everything happens for a reason

I have to concur

Death is among us,

taking the selected

But to take Ethan Khan,

that was just unexpected

Caffeine curdled with cannabis
a rushing stream of nerves
corrupting my senses
  stalling the hunger
  arousing the amygdala
     to focus on what?
Connaturally knowing
through text I display
sketchbook paper smudged
with charcoal black
the color of my mood
  keeping my will at bay
Too many words
not enough time
   relative to all
   conceptually absolute
  mentally resolute
emotionally destitute

Stuccoed silence
Insects of the night
sing their songs
“Take two”–Kava will calm
your nervous system
Full rinse cycle to repeat
Reset once dampened, dry
when you can breathe
Don’t ponder the we
but stay tuned for me
Belt that energy from your throat
Something got your goat?
I’m only intense when you’re gone
My intent is to keep you drawn
but you’re long gone in my mind
Some words I can’t find
in the right moment
I’ve gathered you know it
A few times you’ve shown it
Each time you’ve blown it
Yet I still can’t disown it
Stars twinkle and planes glide
in the sky–I know you’ve looked
checked The Book
Not sure who’s the bait and hook
Missing you like a bad pop song
“Take two”–Kava to calm
my nervous system
Full cycle rinse to repeat
Buttered with scotch and bittersweet

Life throws you curveballs once you're up to bat
Twisting and turning; better hold steady the bat above the mat
The wrong technique could blow the game; focus and be ready
Hold your ground, breathe slowly; remain calm and steady
What's coming your way is often unexpected
Starting with an invitation for entertainment that cannot be rejected
To a darkened home from a romantic scene ****** from some fantasy
You've imagined to feel something so right over and over again
But once you've left first, you realize home is your destination for where you begin and where you end

What's done is done; you really lost when you think you won
But even one victory doesn't shadow the vacancy that still lingers
The emptiness fills you and it shows through shaky fingers
The romantic scene you dreamed of has faded quickly
The details of it all you remember vividly
Reliving the fantasy, devoid of all reality
Home plate is not a safe place to be

In order to heal,
apply pressure to pain with
volition and strength.

Creature of magnificence
I am ecstatic to see you glow
You’ve been lost in shadows cast
by those you want to know
You are more than what you think
though at times it may seem
your worth is less than zinc,
the final page from a ream
  I know the light is there
I can feel it in your stare
your fingertips move mountains
and quiet fountains of despair
Your words can build temples
  and leave them in ruins
Your mind screams for purpose
while abiding outside influence
  The system is broken
and we are broken too
and we fill our cracks with darkness
but the light always shines through

I want to be your
personal alarm clock to
start your morning right.

I do not think
this year has for me
the only thing I’ve wished for
since the start of 2013 —
  someone to miss more than
peach scented memories,
  someone to call before I go to sleep
to hear the soothing sound of rhythmic breath,
so sweet, someone to share my skin and my
most personal of thoughts,
  someone I want comfort from while I weep,
and as open as the book I just bought,
  someone drawn to me as I am to them
with the invisible line our brains fill in,
  someone whose presence is as delightful,
as a burning vanilla candle,
and as alluring as a draft of cold air
among sweltering heat
  I do not think
this “someone” is
someone I’ll ever meet

Rain, rain, pelt my face

Camouflage the salty tears

trickling down my cheek

Complacency has touched me
in the most awkward of ways
sighing between strums of minor rests
sending ringing open E’s to reverberate
through my chest
I love to listen to the
sounds I create in order:
    EBEG#bE
flicking and flapping,
a green brain pic clapping against
golden steel strings
and the spruce sings
a harmonious song—
***** California and the
words you get wrong
notes that sound strong
and remind the mind of how
heavenly sequence can be
    EBEG#bE

A word of advice:
If you don't mean what you say,
then do not say it.

Kitchen-hungry red
Ocean-water teal
Blacks bonded together
Stitched and adhered
   contemporarily
Symmetrically
    stacked
  to lay flat
on my kitchen floor
Crimson 50′s clock
quietly going tick-tock
during rests of audio activity
Wrestling with dogs
during the turning of cogs
to unwind pent up energy
The day of rest and solitary conquest
puts me in no hurry to leave this nest
For I appreciate and want to bathe in
everything I have...for now.