I feel more sedated than alive,

Defying reason and questioning reality,

It’s like morbidly walking through

The endless fields of familiarity.

Slowly losing the ability to feel,

I can no longer distinct what is real,

Cold melancholy and apathy creep in my heart,

My existence becomes shrouded; like a rainbow in the dark.

Testing the bounds of sanity,

Human excess and passion flood the mind,

Releasing any bonds of any kind,

As I’m consumed by the snakes of vanity.

Laying among the ruins of my life,

As my paradise plummets down to Hell,

Because the confusion of chaos defeated me,

With kind words of reverence.

“Pride cometh before the Fall”,

As narcissism festers in self-loathing,

The feeling which makes your soul crawl,

Will cause intimacy to be exposed like clothing.

Fear is a thief for whom I hold no grudge,

And pain is a rehearsal for death.

I looked down at the abyss and took the lunge,

As my world was compressed into a single last breath.

When the sky is dark and the moon is hidden,
When the deepness of the night threatens to consume me,
The feeling of solitude maroons me in a stormy ocean,
The weight of confusion and pain drags me down below the crashing tide.
  
The world seems to shrink as the water floods the mind,
The stinging salt burns the various wounds that cover my body.
My sanctum closes its doors and refuses me sanctuary,
I am forced to lay outside with the bitter **** left unwanted.
  
Hurt and morbid I find myself,
A miserable ghost of the proud, tall man I used to be.
My castle was burned and my throne was broken,
On the same night my queen disappeared in a flash of smoke and shadow.
  
Now, humbled and alone,
I return to the roots of my life to regain strength anew.
The mountains of my childhood rising above the valley,
The scent of belonging subtly clinging to the air,
A waking dream of the reminiscing bliss of my memory,
I have returned to the home my spirit was built in to mend my broken soul.

The silence of the night is enticing,
A cold chill is blowing from the north.
Walking barefoot under the moonlight,
I look up at the sky and think of you.

I light my cigarette and blow out the smoke,
The smell of rain is still fresh in the air.
Walking down the empty street,
I see your reflection in every window.

The night closes in and the darkness deepens,
As the nagging doubts and frailties of the mind begin to appear.
The clouds above twist and grow with anger,
The moon hides behind the impending storm.

The smell of your hair, the delicate smile on your face,
The softness of your lips, the warmth of your embrace.
These are the shadows that haunt me,
These are the demons that persecute me.

I take another swig of whiskey to try and clear my head,
To warm my body and steel my thoughts.
The demons taunt me with memories sharpened like knives,
Reminding me of hurts so deep that left scars which will not fade.

However, as I lie on the moist grass and take another drag,
I see your image shimmer across the field.
I remember falling asleep in your arms,
And waking up to the sound of your voice.

Suddenly, the sea of clouds disperses,
And I see a great moon shine bright and proud;
The shadows and demons flee at the incoming light.
And with the last puff of my cigarette I see,
Your image fade away into the night,
Leaving me behind with a smile and the taste of home.

I see the emerald hills of Toledo draped in a golden sunrise,
A cold morning breeze is blowing past the trees on the outskirts of Cordoba.
I walk down the white marble entombing the streets of Old Madrid,
The fluorescent lights of nocturnal Paris still dance around me,
As I pour myself a cold beer under a clear Berlin sky.

I fly over and find you walking under a Pennsylvania fall,
Getting ready to play in the Jersey snow.
We go down south, almost to the border,
To have a prime rib eye Texas steak for lunch;
And for dessert we share a kiss that tastes like New York.

You hold my hand as we walk through the Peruvian border,
And take my picture as I pose next to Machu Picchu.
I smile as you play with the llamas we found on the edge of the Titicaca Lake,
And together we look down on the ruins found on the Sun Island,
Before we end up gasping for air on the roof of the world 5,000 meters above the sea.

Climbing down we take a walk under the fading Bolivian sky,
We see luxurious office buildings on the right and brick and mud huts on the left.
The narrow streets of La Paz beaming with life as the sun creeps over the hills,
We walk to our favorite taco stand across from the Cathedral,
And on the last night we have in the land of my birth,
We share a kiss that tastes just like New York.

I
Crave your touch
But our fingers always seem to miss.
I want to taste your lips
But I always find them closed.
I smell your perfume everywhere
But it’s only when it lingers
On the wind.

I
Am always
In the right place
But never the right time.
I hear the echo of your voice
But always from far away.
I dream about your smile
But never see it grace your face.

I
Only see your face
Through the reflection of mirrors
When it’s late at night and
the shadows play tricks
On me.
You are a ghost to me
A shadow
A faint glimmer of hope
Lost in the bright starkness
Of reality.

I
Can only whisper
Your name
For it is so fragile
That anything stronger and
It will vanish.
I am always close enough
To know you were there
But too far away to believe it is true.

There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
You wrote it some time ago,
And I despise the thought of its existence,
But your hand and your voice are so clear and so stark,
They prevent me from discarding it.

There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
In it I see valleys of gold and pastures of wealth,
The restless Sea shining with the color of silver glass,
Overlooked by a swift crimson sunset;
The sky is endless and the wind smells of jasmine.

There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
Through it I hear the soft sound of your voice,
I can smell the fragrance of your hair,
My lips can taste the ghost of your kiss,
And for a second I can see your mischievous smile.

There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
In it you wrote words that melt my heart,
You recalled the euphoria of adoration and passion,
And you painted portraits of intimacy so lucid,
They just danced off the pages and disappeared into limbo.

There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
It is named thus because through it I see you,
Not as you are now but as you used to be,
As mad for me as I still am for you,
Treasuring my heart as much as I safeguard yours.

There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
I can’t read it because it crushes me inside when I see,
The words you wrote and the pledge you made to me,
Because now you’ve forsaken both,
And left me with nothing but shadows and dust.

Pain is the fine line between reality and depression.
It is the temptation to pick up the blade and cut again.
It welcomes the buzz that alcohol brings;
Pain is the lighter that helps me light my vice.

Pain is the sadness that hides behind a fake smile.
It is the hollowness that dulls the eyes.
It sprinkles bitterness in my laugh;
Pain is the scars that defile the body.

Pain is the cold winter wind that blows at night.
It is the darkness that chokes me when I'm alone.
It poisons my dreams and taints my sleep;
Pain is the weight that encumbers the beginning of each new day.

Pain is the need to call you on the phone but knowing you won't answer.
It is the "seen" icon followed by no reply.
It ties my stomach in a knot when I think of you;
Pain is feeling ignored and fading away.

Drifting in and out of reality,
Suppressed by the inconsistencies of your own mentality,
Fighting the world without a reason,
Companionship is nonexistent; trust is treason.

Every day I look down at the world and sigh,
The people in it walk around with empty eyes,
Day in and day out I fight off the urge to die,  
To be crushed by the weight of the tides.  

Seeing my lonely life exposed,
Stretching out the days,
Slowly walking down the endless black road,  
For the world is now ablaze.

If rivers were roads then I’d find,  
A way to reach my hectic mind,
A channel that could take me where,  
I might find peace; no more despair.

And as I walk down, my vision’s clouded,
A thick black fog leaves the world shrouded,  
No sense of time or space in the smoke,  
As I walk down the endless black road.

Seeing my lonely life exposed,
Stretching out the days,
Slowly walking down the endless black road,  
For the world is now ablaze

A cold siren's song,
The lullaby I listen to every night,
Whispered softly through the mire.
From the bog of shattered dreams and broken promises,
Across the endless fog that clouds the mind.

I have come to love the cold chill,
Passing amidst  the rift of the emerald mountains.
The ardent heat grazing my face,
That peculiar shade of fire preceding the dawn.

A glorious miracle that can only rise to greet her with a new day,
Allowing her another chance to show her smile.
For my Danaë has the power to control the tides,
And the authority to command the above skies.

The moon shines bright for her convenience,
As well as hide her face at her displeasure.
For she holds the remnants of paradise,
She bathes in the holy blood of Eden.

She is the siren of myth,
The muse behind man's talent.
The promise of redemption hides within her affection,
And the antidote to the world rests upon her lips.

My salvation and my sweetest condemnation,
She is the color that paints the roses vivid.
She is a simple woman,
She is the greatest gift bestowed on undeserving man.

The sun was warmer
and the skies were clearer,
When you smiled at me genuinely
and kissed me sincerely.
The past seemed like a distant dream
when I got lost in your eyes,
You made my demons disappear when I slept
while you held me tightly in your arms.

Now the dream is over
ripped apart by the cold claws of reality,
leaving me trying to piece together the vision
reduced to nothing more than a distant memory.
You act like nothing has changed
you are as distant as the memory of your touch,
as cold as the day you left me to drown in my sorrow.

Now we play a game of chess
you try to check my king,
and I pretend like I don’t care
that each day that rolls by
you take more and more of my pieces off the board,
until there is nothing but your army
and my king.

What will happen when you finally get your checkmate?

Oh, the toxic substance that now flows through my veins,
Incessantly and constantly,
Composing more of myself than the very air I breathe.
Love and lust drive my compulsion,
Trying to hold back the whirlwind of anxiety and depression lurking within.

It is the antidote to the pain I feel,
While also being the very cause of the fever that now courses through my body.
Like modernity it seeks to heal something,
While also destroying something else.
I drown the impulsion to see you,
While also stoking the fire that craves your touch.

I am lost in this sea of chaos,
Marauded in such strange lands full of hope and betrayal.
The memory of you sleeping soundly in my arms soothes my soul,
While the thought of you moaning a strange name seeks to tear it apart.

How I wish to be the man you need me to be,
The man I promised you I would become.
Truth is I am merely a clown trapped in a boy’s body,
Bound to my grief like scars on my arms
Originating from a pit of sorry and anger.

*** helps me rationalize my pain,
Whiskey helps me forget how much I miss you.
Beer allows me to bury my demons deep within,
While wine’s only job is to set them free on me;
Free to haunt my every sober and drunken thought.

There are some times when I want to give up,
To spiral out of lucidity and sanity.
I wish to lose myself to the very darkness
That threatens to consume me.

I wonder what it would feel like,
To allow myself to feast on the flesh of redemption,
To gorge myself in its blood,
And drunkenly howl at the moon.

I want to surrender to every petty desire,
To drown myself in self-loathing.
I want to create the unbearable monster
Reflected in the eyes of those around me.

I want to deserve the disgust I hear
When they speak my name,
I want to be broken beyond repair,
I want to be lost without hope.

I want to prove to myself,
That I am not worthy of her love.

Basking in the pale glory of night,
Beckoning a chance meeting where we would cross eyes once more.
Within the howling of the wind I hear your name,
Whispered from golden memories drifting afar.
The smell of tobacco is poison bereft your scent,
And the taste of vice I sought to replace you with,
turns to smoldering ash in my mouth.
Adrift in a shallow pond I navigate alone,
Lingering in darkness and doubt,
As a nightmare that comes without a dawn.
On my arms I bear the chains of past sins,
The blood of my wrongs staining the water beneath.
Forced to endure the shimmering memory of your touch,
Fade with each passing hour.
I only ask for shimmer of hope,
An undeserved gift that would raise spirits,
And give purpose to the pyre that burns within me.
I request one last dance under the stars,
A fleeting moment served to recall paradise lost.
Yet if the song ends and the shimmer of hope is put out,
I would see this crusade come to an end.
If our stars fade and the love we share is dead,
I will abandon ship and cast myself away.
I will cry tears of loss and pain so that when we meet again,
I look at you with empty eyes.

I forgot how much I need you,
The magic of your touch, no matter if it’s a hug or a kick.
I forgot just how sweet the look in your eyes truly is,
The tender smile that crosses your lips when I say something stupid.

I forgot how beautiful you look when you first wake up in the morning,
The delightful fragrance that clings to anything you touch.
I forgot how soft your hair feels,
The texture of your hands and the ***** of your back.

I forgot about the way you talk to me,
The change in your voice and your adorable squeals.
I forgot how radiant you are when you get ready to go out at night,
The perfection of your face with or without make up.

I forgot how much I need you,
The privilege of sleeping next to you.
I forgot just how in love I am,
The way my heart races in the seconds prior to seeing you every day.

If today was the last day on Earth,  
I'd like to open my bottle of suppressed emotions;
a chaotic hurricaine demanding to be heard:

Today I'd like to have you once again,
remember how it felt when your lips brushed against my skin;
remember your hair, soft as rose petals,
and your smile, sweet as honey.

Today I'd like to play for you once again
songs that stay within your soul,
melodies that once made you dream,
facts that could never become reality.

Today I'd like to write to you once again,
verses from a man to a woman,
whom once was, but never gain will  
be with the man who really knew how to love her.

I'd like to have you, I'd like to play for you, I'd like to write to you,
but you're not here.
You're not here,
and it it seems like you never have and never will.

No matter what direction I walk,
The road I'm on never ends.
The sky is always cloudy,
And the sun is never present.

My nights are restless and elongated,
Each smile becomes harder to fake.
The vigor I possessed has abandoned me,
Replaced with an ever-growing atrophy.

I yearn for the touch of a woman,
That no longer exists.
I dream during the day,
Just to find myself in her arms again.

The demons within have bested me,
The strength of my will has failed.
People and places flash around me,
Leaving me behind in their wake.

Alcohol and other poisons have no effect on me,
They no longer pry me away from this.
I love my life locked in a haze,
Trying to forget myself.

I need your help to get out,
I need your aid to survive.
I need a meaningful smile,
A genuine expression of love,
To save me from myself.

What happens when the lines between reality and dreams begin to blur?
One second you walk down a sunlit street to go to work,
The next you wake up in bed staring up at your ceiling.
Which one is the dream, the walk to work or the alarm sound?

The shadows in your dreams appear more real than the faces of your day,
The conversations with shadows more genuine than the ones you have with people around you.
The breeze felt before you wake up seems fresher than the weather forecasted,
The sensations in real life seem duller than the ones from your dreams.

Maybe the dreams you have are premonitions of the upcoming day,
Maybe they’re annotations to the day you had before.
Perhaps the stars you see in the sky at night are a lie,
And the ones in your dreams are brighter and more majestic.

What becomes of you if you can no longer separates fantasy from reality?
If you wake up to repeat the things already done in your sleep,
If you walk in the footprints left behind by your shadow.
But most importantly, is it worse to blur the lines of reality,
Or to dream about a reality that is more beautiful than the one you’ll wake up to?