Vacant houses upon lively streets lay ashen and withered with neglect.
Once there was life inside that shell, floorboards creaking in late night passion, or more often then not the sluggish patter of feet searching for a midnight snack.
The Windows are now boarded up refusing the light of the world to dance inside the dusty chamber once more.
This cluster of wood is a giving tree of nurturing, a wobbly toddler once learnt how to walk upon the flocculent carpet, growing right from the core of the foundation.
When I gaze at these houses I can't help but think of..
Mother.

Oh hi there fellow!
I see you there dwelling, you darling dew drop.
I see you! No, not just your presence I recognize your iridescent essence.
Wow, aren't you remarkable with that cascading flesh, supple and prolific!
Your wild dragon fly eyes moist like a glistening tile floor at a high class fast food restaurant.
And hey check out those morbidly ***** brows, all flurried and bunched neatly upon your forehead stage.
You are a masterpiece every nook and pitted cranny, a glorious castle of cells and excrement.
Now my suitably silken friend lets strut out of this bathroom and let the chasm of life consume us.
Oh so exuberantly.

My lacquered black nails absently trace the outline of my lips.

My thoughts slowly churn until they whir out of control and send me stumbling to your bedside.

My body is frigid and stale laying beside you like a vacant vessel.

When your thoughts become this unwieldy  the wet streaks painting your cheeks are your only solidarity.

"I will always care for you" I say, as I slowly grab grip of reality and exit the realm of memory.

It's just that..

There's no sense in watering grass that's already dead, when you have a forest inside of you begging to live.

Hello world,
I like to imagine I could encapsulate you in my palm so my dewy lips could whisper you a secret and convey my twittering hearts contents, the message would succinctly read: "Well world you prolific matronly majesty you, I must confess I don't give a ****."
Now let me clarify, by saying this I mean I have accepted the temporary condition of this life.
I sling shot through your streets and meadows in an endless gambit of emotion. All I can hope for is to be as open as your halcyon skies allowing things to come and go and connecting with the inhabitants below with every ounce of sinew that my body can produce for our fickly allotted moments.
All we have is each other giving a **** doesn't bring us any closer, connection is found when you release your idea of self to the ether.
Stop giving a **** and only connect.

divot discoloration blemished imperfection.
The storybook of my flesh is peppered with these pockmarks of life.
A secret connect the dots maze on my body binding the story pages together.
I grin as I examine my body and all it's protruding oddities, how beautiful  it is as I crash course through this crazy ocean my breath still ebbs and flows in synchronization.
I love the nooks of me no one else could possibly understand.
my peculiarly chipped tooth buried in my gums as a reminder of juvenile fun.
I tuck myself into a bed of comfort cradling these imperfections, a grand testament of life.
The girl with the electric smile and lazy eye.

A slab of flesh, a big lug of moistened meat poised perfectly behind your teeth.

How does it know to stay there happily enclosed behind the primped maw?

My chest swings up and down as the uncertain wind chimes melodiously drone on

My toes curl as they anchor themselves to the manifestation of reality which is my bed

Release yourself of desire and your perception of self and you are free.

I am not merely DNA strands or small dainty hands.

I am unfathomable and that's how I know I exist, exquisitely undeniably present

There I was cradled beneath your warm freckle embellished flesh.

This should be comfort, our vessels nestled so tightly against each other.

But I feel like an alien ship afloat in ominously calm water.

My body twinges in discomfort as I turn to face you.

"You aren't going to just disappear one day?" I meekly ask gingerly caressing your face.

Questions often times serve no purpose just to display the words your heart has already accepted.

Your lips whispered "no" as they drew closer to consume me and glean my cavern of any lasting sliver of hope.

You see, those who stay never have a reason to reassure you, they just do.