I dreamt the world
it never changed.
She never came.
My tethered skin
tore weathered chains.
I swore she knew
my given name.
Myths are stained.
Apocryphal.
A pocket full…
of gods and cherubs
in the fold.
Hope is serum
of the fools.
Hate is fearing
all the rules.
Love is blind
love is blind
If you love her
say it twice.
Broke my words
in several places
Make amends
in several phases
String the song
with several phrases.

We’ll become
a bending stalk.
Snapped in half
ascending up.
Blush and makeup.
Don’t believe.
Rush to make up
this belief.
So we’re here
in disbelief.
Petal, scent
fall to the earth
If mental cries
this mind is burnt.
I never changed
She never sensed
our plot unwritten.
Lift the pen.

There are words
that are chained
to the tip
of my tongue
Because love
holds the key
to the breaking of these songs
but the virtue of patience
never seems to be enough.
Speak…
and watch our hearts collide,
fall upward through the night
and light these starless skies.

I know of clocks that render time
and stretch the shadows toward the skies
The weight of waiting for her world
is like waving white flags in disguise.

I know of books that have no words
yet each page filled with grammar marks.
The motif is often misconstrued
as each day spills into the dark.

Some get butterflies inside themselves.
But all I’ve got are dead cocoons.
A life which hoped to spring forth new
a death which loomed forth much too soon.

I’ve seen porcelains survive a drop
and climb to heights of mezzanines.
In reverse, the verse said that’s enough
so I began my steps in wandering.

I came across a set of stairs
upset I stared and steered away.
The fragile state of seeming plain
increased my odds of being changed.

I know of dreams that dictate words
for me to write in schemes of lines.
Cliches and thoughts and adages
repeat to her in rehearsed lies.

There are razors on the floor and a clock against the wall.
It’s got the power to compel idyllic summers fall.

Set the trap to catch the wind and watch it pass through unaware.
I got tangled in my words and my message was unclear.

In case of shivers, huddle close; we’ll start a fire in the room
and count the hours we have left until we leave our days of youth.

The threat of paper guns and swords; we are masters of pretend.
We mistake those we adore and we’ve labeled them as friends

Unleash the doubt that cages love. These chases have led me to bleed.
These patches don’t seem small enough. I’ll be more reckless with my dreams.

How do I feel with my own two hands
small as they are, and the circumstance
bids me to wrap tape over my bleed.
Raise your glass high so my eyes could see
all the straps pulled up my own two feet
and the days lay dead underneath white sheets.

Scars underground in the earth beneath
pushing up daisies towards the sky
Shame overwhelms me in surprise
while black hues slowly blinds each eye.
Let’s trade my hours for more time
we’ll barter tears until we’re dry
If one breath can push out wistful sighs
then one death can end an entire life.

I’m much too distant from the end
and far too fearful of the light.
If every muse made any sense
I’d be weary and troubled by their lies.
But I find it easier to pretend
as quotidian wishes escape the mind.
We’re both caged in suspension yet
over silence in this unspoken compromise.

Fingers locked in one emotion
eyes don’t stray, they’re falling skyward.
Watch the nights with lights exploding
Fireworks rain down, you’ll notice
confessions leave the heart exposed and
much too weak but keep your focus.

Just be brave and be courageous
She’ll thank you after for your love,
though you may think she is facetious.
Hesitation makes you mirthless.
Love’s like this: it’s full of hurt and
scars and petty disappointments.
While I learn the art of patience.
Come some day you’ll be her one.

Bend the doubts which mostly lead
to love’s inebriation
and watch my crimson patience
drain from full to empty.
We’ll fight in fright as floods
of rage are stitched to merry words.

She is every bit as lovely
and wistful as I know,
though every time she beams
her brightness is so blinding.
In love and years, I’ll wait
like this and nothing less.
The moment will come when all
the hopeful lies I hold,
I’ll trade them for her truth.

Though we’re young and full of folly,
limerence is a madness still.