Don't get too close,
they never told me if it's contagious ,
or not.

My heart is broken,
not hurt, like yours,
but it truly beats out of time.
It beats like a seizing drummer;
all panicked and hanging on
for dear life,
like two little sticks
can spare the strife.

He's mistaken,
that little drummer boy,
for his clock never ticks
the way it was meant to.
It does get bigger, though,
but they tell me that's bad too.
It doesn't grow like a flowering love,
No.
It enlarges like it's dying
from working overtime
all the time.
Don't add to it's burden, please.
Just take what you want
and leave.
Leave the rest of this diseased part for me.
I need every ounce it has
to survive as long as I can.

Don't get too close.
Don't drain what's left of me.
I need this heart to breath.

Unfortunately, this world turns in such a way
that I cannot love you forever.
Whether the weather of our connection
shall run itself dry,
or the seasons of age
shall lead us to die,
I cannot keep you past my time.
As solace for the way that my soul does weep,
I've carved you into everything
my memory holds so dear.
In centuries, in moments,
in thousands of years,
you shall live on forever
in these pages right here.

You are the only home I know.

Your fingers dip below my waist,
travelling at a sensuous pace.

The lower you go,
my anticipation builds.
My heart beats faster
bracing for the thrill.

Your touch has me moaning,
begging for more.
Your hot passionate kisses;
I simply adore.  

I feel it, I feel you,
as I crest on high.
Only you can take me,
on this incredible ride.

Baby, do it again,
and again and again.
I never get enough
of this delightful sin.

You make me want to scream.
Constantly playing mind games
trying to get me to
compete.

You make me want to *****.
Using your charming words
and cute pet names
I constantly feel like I'm
drowning.

You burn my body with your
sly words and your
innocent touches.
Kiss me ******, kiss me.
Don't make a mockery
out of me when you
could be kissing
the breath out of my
failing lungs.

He cranes tiredly over folds of parchment
As sunlight falls across his ashen features
And the restless night becomes lost
Within a sea of fading maps and broken compasses.

Worn pencils collect on hardwood like dust,
And discarded errors in calculation fall into the corners.
He stumbles weakly between varying levels of consciousness,
And exhaustion claims an inch more of his body
With each exasperated flutter of his eyelids.

He spins the globe to his right with a lazy hand
And catches Africa with his finger
Wishing that he could’ve been anywhere but here
Because it is immeasurably heartbreaking
To have the entire world at your fingertips
And to have never seen any of it.

j.s.

Soaring like a new-grown bird
That flutters high and swoops away,
So my heart doth shyly fly and flay
Innocent to harsh blows or words;
As the sea doth rise and swell,
With halcyon bays masking shadowy depths,
So my heart’s lightness is beset
With an ache rolling like a tolling bell;
May I yet find content at last,
With distress, misery, left it the past?