Suddenly, you're not so far away
When we sing together I get a bitter taste.
Do you dream of another face?
These memories stick to my like a ****** stain

I can see the light beaming through the trees
I can feel the wind kick up a warm breeze
I can see the grey clouds roll on by
There's a storm brewing we ought to hide

Its the sweetest taste
When you eat the fruits of your labor that you've made
On this darkened road we are on there is a starry sky
Your life path isn't looking bright.

I can see the light beaming through the trees
I can feel the wind kick up a warm breeze
I can see the grey clouds roll on by
There's a storm brewing we ought to hide

Breathe.
  
Its almost that time when the moon turns
and all that you hold turns on you.
And you turn into what you were always meant to be.
  
Inhale.

All the stars turn in their grave under your feet.
The angles turn their gaze toward your purity.
And all that was once black has faded to green.
  
Exhale.

Fate is turning in your favor while the past burns
While your ancestors singing turns into screaming
And your pinebox is rotting in a bleak dark cemetery

Choke.

On the empty curses you have promised.
On silver bullets and silver rings
And as you take your last breath feel the warmth from the ocean breeze.

Blackberries glide down my throat.
While Blueberries push back the words
That should not be spoken.
The air in this classroom is stale.
This moment feels so still.

You come to mind like a 1940's picture show
Grainy memories covered in bitter-sweet nostalgia.
Your hair blows in the wind
The film skips
Now, your car is drowning on the Boulevard
I blink
And you're next to me in your car seat
Starring at me with those eyes that Cancers have
Big, deep, doe-like, and dark
In them, I can sink and drown.

The raspberries glide down my throat
While the pineapples push back my hope
That my email notification will ping.
That, maybe, you will respond to me.
With a 2010-friendly tone.

Everyday is daunting.
Every interaction is fake and trite.
I just want to sink into the blues and greens
And leave behind the shell that was once me.
Put my skull up to your ear
And hear a shallow weeping come through
loud and clear.

Everyone is dead.
All my friends are ghost or tragic souls
Whom made terrible deals for short delights.
They sink into the black and aquamarine
While they haunt their lost dreams,
And you can hear them drown in frustration,
subtle but obvious.

Every man for himself.
This ship is sinking and the water is deadly cold
And its hunger is ravenous and exact.
You will sink into the cerulean and midnights.
The last wave will feel like a welcomed dream
And the final sounds will be a deep universal vibration.
grand and final.

How short should this poem be?
Should it be as long as Love and war
And sing about such wars that we fight in our head right before we thought we were going sleep instead?
Would these words on this paper be deeper than 1000 leagues under the sea?
Or will it read like an abyss of thoughts...
Can they be deeper than a dream?
I want to know if these words will transcend to another space or time.
Or will they drown in a cloud?
Only time will tell.

Its comes in the middle of an optimistic smirk
Or when my mind is settling in its warm and cozy canopy bed that is surround with black sheer bed curtains.

The sad creeps in.

It creeps in when I am feeling safe and held in the arms of husband.
It creeps in on warm days when Im laying in grass watching the clouds pass.

The sad settles in.

It settles in the crevices of my brain
It settles in the chambers of my heart
It settles in behind my eyes
It settles inbetween each breath

The sad lingers.

It lingers through the days
It lingers in the words I say
It lingers in the thoughts that drift by
Its lingers through earths revolutions

The daily humdrum of the mundane day
has left me feeling empty.
I'm sleep walking through the hours that make up my day.
I'm night thinking in the dark to avoid the nightmares.

I'm tired.

I'm tired of being resilient...

of being in charge.

I'm tired of responsibility

and society.

I'm tired.

The problem is with my eyes.
You see the problem is that my soul sits like a question mark in them.
The problem is that whenever I hear the sound of the "Wah wah" details of your day - you can see the question mark start to flip.  
And my eyes roll back into my lids.

The real problem lies within my mind.
It tends to detach and retreat to a blank state.
The problem is that whenever it decides to come back I'm in the middle of driving  and I can't remember if I passed any red lights.
And my mind just don't feel right.

I can recall the way the morning dew sits on the fresh budding flowers in spring.
Ignorant to the winter that melted away before them they grow towards sun.
Youth have a unique talent of being able to stare directly into the sun.
They know-it-all while remaining  empty and full of angst.
The cold heart of youth keeps them bold and detached.
In the summer their necks are bent and their spines are crooked.
The youth are feeble, vain, and gullible.
They are easily swept away by the first wave of interest.
They drown in love and vices.
They fantasize about their celebrity
And they love to hate any flowers that lived through the winter before them.

Just you wait till the world pollinates you.
The world hangs above you like an Acne anvil suspended into the ether.
When autumn comes it will fall and explode on them like dreary dark piñata filled with children, debt, taxes, and new displeasures that no one ever warned them about.
The world will pluck every petal off you one by one
"They love, they love me not, they love me, they love me not".
Then the clouds will stroll in.
And winters first snow will began to shimmy down and settle on every stem.

Now that the years have passed,
Was I really that bad?
Now that summer is gone
I will haunt your halls.
My laughter painted on these walls.

Now that you're all alone
Drowning in you're thoughts
My ghost crawls in your skull
Yesterday is gone.
And tomorrow you're memories will be just another song.

Some days are blackholes
That inhale every part of me.
Days like that pull apart all hope
and swallow my dreams whole.


Some days are like sunrises
That shine on the dark parts of my mind
Days like that illuminate new perspectives
and usher in endorphins that carry me to a dimly lit abyss.