physically I have no symmetry
and it doesn’t even bother me
my physical state is electrical
and internally I am symmetrical

a love so big it's my counterpart
symmetrically matching my flesh parts
an existence created as a work of art
able to outsmart any black heart

understanding this duality
is the best of you loving the best of me
and I believe you will get there eventually
to your own symmetrical mentality

There's a spiders web
Of words I've said
Entangled in the calendar of time
A lovers rhyme of feelings

In minutes or moments or moves
I fell in love with you
A game of chess
Just to feel your breath upon me

I'd wish to call anyone
That singular one
The fable of teachings
Says we're reaching for something impossible

To not feel love across lanes
Indeed, sounds insane
We are wide, we are vast
We are fast to feel full at last.

I know I can't be everything to you
But I can be something
That something is the best thing
It's the thing you'll love
You'll love to have

I don't want to be your everything
I want to be a golden something
The one thing you love
And more of that one thing
Is the everything I offer

That one magic thing you want
It's everything I am
It's everything I want to be
It's everything to be that one thing
It's everything for me

If I give you my everything
I know I can be that something
That beautiful thing
That you need in your life
It's my everything
It's me

I know where I stand
Familiar with where I fall
My brand of delusion
Tells it all

Secretive emotions
Inside vivid fantasies
A devotion to us
That no one sees

And you can tell me it's over
I'll play along
But, Lover, I never left you
Even though I'm wrong

I left you inside pain
Pain I caused
I'll refrain bringing it back
But never forget what was

I still smell your skin
Taste your body
Remember within
Nothing seems to stop me

I'm tired of this game.
That loneliness you now feel, has been my suffering for many years. It never mattered.
But it surely matters now, now that it's yours.
I'm tired of pretending.
Pretending that it wasn't you who made me feel that way, to begin with... Pretending that I'm worth anything other than my own suffering, some of which I caused and some I didn't.

It's a delusion I live with, I live inside of. This complex, multi-layered delusion that I'm good enough to be loved, by anyone, on any average day. A delusion that anyone would ever love me for me, as I've been made to be.

Being strong is a joke.
You can say it on repeat if you want to, but it's all a lie. We merely want others to be strong so that you, yourself can pretend to be strong.

Humans are weak.
Humans are selfish.
Humans are critical.
I say this with certainty, because I am human. I am critical. I am selfish. I am weak.

It's all a game.
Everyday I log into my single player game and I pretend my delusional thinking could ever actually be real. I pretend I'm like you, so you don't feel pity. You pretend I'm like you, so I don't hate myself.
Layers of lies, is all it is.

No person wants to cause the end, but the end is inevitable. If we are forced into living, we will also be forced into dying. It's uncontrollable...
Humans love control, though.

So this is the dilemma. It's not that you, or I, don't want to die, eventually, it's the control of when it happens. Which it will.

So we can sit around and cry about the uncontrollable nature that is this existence, or we can have a voice, have action, have meaning, have love, have purpose.

Because I didn't purposefully become different than you, it leaves me with a permanent state of "uncontrollable life". Unlovable. Unchangeable. Alone.

So I continue playing the game.
Eating the layers of this onion, so you can feel like you didn't contribute to the end. I'll eat this disgusting onion, so you feel better about what you've done. So that you can think I'm happy.

You can sleep peaceful knowing you fed me these onions... so I didn't end, outside of your control.

I remember holding your hand. I remember how nervous you were the first time we did. I don't think you were nervous because I’m a woman, I think you were excited. I'll never forget the shape of your hands, or how soft and squishy they are. They melted in-between the calluses of my boyish hands.

I remember how you'd touch me out in public. You weren’t nearly as touchy-feely as I am and so when you did, it mattered. I always felt that touch from you, it was invigorating. I could never keep my hands off of your body, maybe I diluted myself to you. Your skin was my everything.

I remember how much you wanted me near you, at all times. It felt like we reciprocated that attraction. We were addicted to each other. We both enjoyed feeding that addiction, no matter what we were supposed to be doing in the outside world.

I remember when you would crawl on top of my lap, while I was watching TV. It was as if you painfully, painfully needed me inside of you. I remember how easy it was to get where you wanted me. I remember the face you would make and I could determine what to do, purely based on your expressions and your eyes.

I remember the flavor of your sweat, even though you hardly would even glisten. I  knew exactly where to go, to taste it. I remember covering your body in my own sweat, I loved working that hard.

I remember how long it took me to figure out what worked for you. I remember being frustrated and let down with myself, in the beginning. i’ll never forget the magical moment that I figured it out. The pressure simultaneous with the motion. You told me I was the first person to ever give you an ******. Regardless of whether or not that’s true, I will never forget that you said so.

I painted the pollution in the sky with my own blood
I was proud
So I sat below it, as it dripped back down
Puddle by puddle
I can see what it was that pain passed on
The pollution of my own wreckage
Thick, it choked my breath
I stress over my own twisted toxins
Carrying the weight of me
On my back

Back home.

I find myself in love with you
   You have known it all along, as well
We spent many naked hours together
As you taught me to be confident
   Secure, in who I am, in what I do
In who I am with you and what I do to you.

Having dreams of our sexuality, whatever that is
Having dreams of desire
  desire for the married, it's no "sin"
Sin is just another three letters man has defined
Defined with a meaning so great it's punishable
Punishable by even death to some
    And "die" is just another three letters
Another three we let determine eternity
Why, oh why, do we let the smallest words have the most and longest outcome?

What have we done except create roadblocks
Barriers from our own freedoms
Like all the state lines I'd have to cross
   To get to you
To not be here, to not die alone.

There's a three that is quite the opposite
   You.         Her.          Me.
I've never felt something so welcome
Something so perfect
Why it couldn't be, well, that's on me.

But I need you again, Magic Healer
Show me again how to be your lover
  To love myself, again, too
Love myself inside you...... Us....
Us Three.

Years we spent, speaking in silence
    Wth the most of feelings, you changed me
We spoke in feelings
        A currency not used enough.

Your feelings are energy
    And I am your energy, too
We are enough to power the galaxy
        Maybe that's exactly what we do.

We powered through the struggles before us
    Lighting up every dark day
With a simple exchange of feelings... Energy...
         The current that is you and I.

You were a tidal wave the flushed my skin
    A bolt of lightening that burned away pain
You were red wine that turned my pale cheeks
         And everything became flushed with power.

You've now become that energy
    Pure and devine and heavenly
In a land I cannot walk through
         But a current with me,
            through all my days.

Ten years miserably passed before..."At last!"
Four eyes dizzely cast into blue and brown,
and four, no, six legs on the ground.
Wistfully down a park laid sidewalk, we walked
to meet one another, blissfully.

We walked inside the dried canal, a river of the desert.
It hurts that we go there, no more, to flirt
with the dirt and our companion... infinity.
Is it you with me as I find kin company
in the molecules of divinity?

Repeatedly, I go searching the vicinity and nearby
For anything with similarity that I can call you by.
Any tree, light, shadow or star in the proximity
of where we met that belonged to you and me.
Or a feeling of solidarity that I cannot see.

Son, don't let me now survive ten years expeditiously.
Destructively alive, left with the intangiblity of life
that we left at that decision tree at 5:45.
Repetitiously I continue to apologize,
but apologies won't bring you back to life.

As you fell asleep I held my breath
You told me you weren't afraid of death
Only that you didn't want to leave
The comfort I built with my knees around you

You said,
"The stars, they shine only at night
but they're still there even when it's light
The twinkle, the twilight is still in sight
No fret, no fright, our love is right
and it illuminates the days and nights you fight
the feeling you're not alright
But love is right...
And, mama, you're alright"

My grief could drown the ocean
Pain so big it's cosmic, a stellar potion
My son, you are more than the universe
and it's universal like a star in motion
We are but one candle in a drop of the ocean

You said,
"when lights shoot across the sky...
it's not goodbye"

The kindest simple paralysis as I held your chest
No matter if it's right... It's best
My lifes left a mess of emptiness and loneliness  
and that ocean is the tears I've wept

See, your ghost, it's not a 'thing'
It's not something I can boast about seeing
It's a host of the most amazing sights seen
It's been in my heart since the beginning of my time

You're going to be young for eternity
because what you are and what you were
is a feeling
A beguiling, bewildering feeling

But the worst is here, it hurts me my dear
Another feeling on my list of fears

I sang to you, my son, until I ran out of breath
And sang to you again as I gave you to death.
I've been stuck in house arrest
Because I've given you to death.
I declare my degree in your grief
But I sing to you...
"I-I-I have never lo-o-oved someone,
the wa-ay I love you-u-u"

A lament for your bending brain descent
With energy so pure, unsure and in the moment
With disorient movement on legs bent
Or were they wings?
It was hard to tell on the descent.

Yet, something eternal was created
At your birth and at your death
Your heart was too big for your chest
We wept together over it,
Over your death,
As there was no preparation for the separation
Your rotation of cognation
Gives formation to an ideation if...
You... You ever were
Or I... I ever was?

Disposessed words in the world we'd imagined
Obtained and ingrained love in our intestines
Our black will eventually turn to grey
The grey will one day go away
Just as blood dries and becomes sparks
It parks inside eyes to become stars
And the love we lasted long enough to receive
Becomes songs in energy I sing
From my throat
From my hand to your coat, I bathe you
I soak you with my love... a baptismal
     ... like never before and ...
As you drown under, you wonder
If you... You ever were
Or I... I ever was.

Give an insignificant person
The opportunity to be significant
And they'll change everything!

Look,
The day will come where it takes a mortician
to show you there are worse things
  than your depression
Death or dismemberment
It's not just your falsified insurance claim
The day you fell to your knees and wept
  over the great pacific ocean
In the city of angels you were humbled by its majestic potion
The message in a bottle you never sent
Your laziness allowed the entire ocean to be swept
  carelessly away for your lack of devotion
The day you spoke about your loneliness
sitting in an upright-coffin-confession
Adjacent to the man who ***** children
  to make himself feel... more... man.
Literally, I meant, he felt those young men.

Did that yet distract your pain?
Remember that day
that day you cried to your doctor
  Elaborating about your back and lack of motion
She’d been crying
She was trying to comprehend
hospice for her cancer-ridden husband
  Off to die, he was sent
Oh, that's exactly what it meant.

But, oh, that little tiny microscopic pain!
Then there was that day you complained
To your flat-mate about your job being so mundane.
  As she spoke of her boss firing her,* post-*****
To avoid the human resource claim
You were hell-bent over your issue…
As she went insane.

Remember the day you went "insane" to your best friend
About your second wedding being destroyed by the rain
Your bestie was a man who had never felt the embrace
      of love
           affection
                 or pain
The ability to cherish
The passion and pain of a woman,
      he had paralyzed legs,
           no woman had ever loved him
                 Because he could never provide ***.
And YES you booooooo-hoo-ed
Over all your costume-esque dresses getting wet
Whats next?
You complain about the rain...
  A magical natural scene
But LOOK,
You've never once tried
to see that persons suffering.

Preoccupation with making something permanent
A feeling of expectation
incorporation of a certain situation
or habitation into life, for good
It makes me freak out.
Desire,
for a certain thing to happen
fear of that something actually happening
Or that it's something that might be permanent.
Worry,
the attempt to find certainty
the desire to control things.
Control you, controlling me
I'm afraid you'll find my black
It will come back again.
It's like an arc weld done incorrectly
Eventually it will start to bleed
And fall apart.
But I dreamt about welding and you welding me
into something permanent
something desirable
something non-penetrable.
You had me molded against the truck and...
I don't know who you are, but you put your fire in me
So deeply it burns.
A fire that firefighters can't dissolve
Doctors can't resolve.
You're in me,
and I love you.

The problems I have are bigger than me, friend
They are bigger than you, than you could imagine
And bigger than the god you believe in

People keep telling me to be patient
But I have been a patient my whole entire life
There's nothing that this so-called-god has fixed

I have no faith in man or in god
Or the doctors that both of those come from
I only have faith in myself and the things I have done

God and man have hurt, stolen and crippled me
There was no exterior angel that repaired me
There was only me and the things I have done

How many pools of blood must I lay in asking, "am I gonna die?"
Yeah, I'm gonna die, but that's not up to man
It's up to me, and the things I have done.

It was always a joke, phrase or idiom
It wasn't an analysis of what we did to them
The paralysis which was led by God or men
Who left a woman with a life condemned
And "he" is not found, but here I am.

I lost my arm to a waterfall
Fostered harm by something beautiful
A hand and forearm unmade musical
Water on land intersects not once, several
A band of storms lay down by that Neanderthal.

Waters splash like cymbals crash
Like whiplash from 3 cars smashed
Like fast paced life becoming past
Like a harassed female, never asked
And at long last... I'm unembarrassed.

Soft as water came, it became a hurricane
Pain blows through my veins and brain
I sound insane as I strain to explain
Doctors abstain and became inhumane
Riding the insane a-train to remain...
...a soft stream of water.

The closer I get to being done
The more I see a bed at home
A bed alone
It's made of sticks and stones
Each night it breaks my back bones
I get so ****** up when I'm alone
It's so ****** up
That I find someone.

The people will always show
Not once but twice in a row
Alignment perfectly chronological
Calloused and shallow
When they are illogical
Waving words so psychological
Psychologically ****** up
It's so ****** up
That I found them at all

For a moment I'm special
So quickly I'm gone
Your feelings grew strong
With misplaced infatuations along
I've been doing this dance so long
I should know when I'm done wrong
Skipping and singing along
It's so ****** up
I've memorized the lyrics to this song

You congratulate me
On every... tiny... victory
Like I am tiny, like I'm a baby
Whose cheerio bowl is emptied
On time with the finale of your meal
And cheered on when I'm not whiny
When fighting this or that ordeal
And like a parent to a child
You tell me that you're proud of me
As if YOU get the reward of pride
As though you built my profile
But through all your ignorance...
I smile
Entertained by anything shiny.

The action... a stance
Or is it a sequence...
As in
the ordered number of
Events
Or movements
Or things
That follow each other...
Patterns, repetitions
Within one, or each,
Other.

A complicated concept
Dumbed-down
For even a weak mind
To easily interpret
It's more than just
"understanding" they get
These weak minds,
Seemingly, flock to it.

I have a heart full of cement
Solid... Permanent
I've sang your lament over and over again
But every song has the same intent
Like something permanent.
I regret not having a patent on your scent,
Or the way your teeth are bent or broken.
Like at some point a decent person
        Had a cruel accident
                 But, against your jaw
..........A fists descent...
...To punish you..........
And forever augment that one percent of you.
I don't know the intent of the event
But, I do know you underwent some hell
To get to me, in our present
But, that doesn't matter my gent
My denouement is becoming distant
         ...you are here...
                      And there you went.
But, our two souls are water and powder
We create cement...
**Permanent

Rain, so fine just like dust
looking at sky, purple,
over-the-top roller coasters
Peaking at 92 mph
dodging the yellow
More than numbers, I passed
Cardboard windshield for glass
Clarity, it comes and goes
I need to slow down
Even when I'm
Not going
Fast enough.

Running inside, closing down and shutting off
It might be easy for some
It's torture to me... I torture myself.
No one cares when I disappear
No one notices
My phone doesn't ring.
Maybe I miss Facebook events
Some of which included a family death
And still, my phone didn't ring.
No one knocks on my door
No questions are asked of what's going on
With me,
in me.
When I announce my retraction
They slightly caring folks will await
A Facebook update
They don't call.
The whole world goes on
while I'm trying to not post my depression
for the five friends that care.
Although the care only reaches as far as
waiting for my facebook post
telling them I'm "ok"
      But
            I'm
                  Not

My hand held out...
...to guard your back
When your friendships lacked
...to give money or supplies
When you couldn't survive
...to hold your hand
When you needed support
...to give you a hug
When you needed love
...to high five yours
At all of your endeavors
...to pat on your back
When you succeeded this or that
...to throw a thumbs-up
Because you never gave up

My hand held out...
...to cover my eyes
Through all of the lies
...to hide evidence
When you lacked common sense
...to understand the unreal
Amounts of items you'd steal
...to my chin to stipulate
The way you'd manipulate
...to cover my heart and divert
From your stories that hurt.

I could do this when I had two hands.
I could juggle these separate demands.
My dominant hand is limp now.
The tasks I take on are now simple.
I can only do one thing at a time.
Like, write out this single line rhyme.

When you see my hand out...
...from utter desperation
Please don't tabulate your accommodation
...remember I never asked before my disability
That you had previously admired my stability
...homeless, ***** and hungry
Offer to help me, without charging money
...keep in mind, it's the only one I have
My abilities and tasks all need to be halves
...perhaps don't act put-out or surprised
Because the person who's asking is paralyzed.

My freedom of expression,
Or, freedom to exist...
I've had to suppress, any implication,
That I was free, IT was free,
Or that I could rest.
My obligations became innovations,
My "freedom" was a serious test.

Shut my mouth.
Silence my thought.
Burn holes in my own sky...
To survive,
Just to... Get by.

There's no blood on the hand
of the devil begging for a gun...
But, the blood of my son,
My thoughts, my thighs,
My sun, my sky...
I'm paralyzed.
I idealized and fantasised
...a metaphor...
Something in-between dead and alive.

But this is literal.

Cry freedom for a body that fails.
An existing breath that bent steel.
Locked in the prison with 10 wardens.
Slave to a super power.
And I'm furious you sent me a bill.
I ate your currency.
I'm... Fed... Up.

Your devil is free to stare,
poke fun and share
...the misery...
...my suffering...
I'm paralyzed.

This is literal.

A year and a half has passed since I crashed my motorcycle.
The broken bones and road rash had since been cast away.
The gassed up tank and fast paced life were smashed together.
A singular bash that cached my memory.
Lights flashed and all of the sudden whiplash has new meaning.
This thrash of two autos blinked my eyelash three days later.
Paralytic forecast.
I lay flabbergast.

The barrier of poison and ****
                    You're better than us
                   A metal chassis of rust
                                           Anonymous.
This and that and jist and just
                     An abyss full of fuss
                                   No love or lust
                                            Anonymous.
Cease to speak or discuss
                    A might or a must
                         The empty pie crust
                                             Anonymous.
Preference to throw or ******
                       Detest and disgust
                         To cry or get crushed
                                             Anonymous.

Become the answer.
Remove the why.... I mean, "y".

The nation is yours.

Get it?
Think. Feel. Live. Love.
It's up to us, the little guys.
The thousandaires, or hundredaires...
****, even the dollaraires.

We ARE America.
I AM America.
I am love.

I have brought to you your question
Brought to you direction
Listen,
It's not a competition
Don't petition
Resist them
What's your position
Your mind fruition
You list it
Twist it
Missed it.

Look...
The day will come where it takes a mortician
to show you there are worse things than your depression.
Death and/or dismemberment.
It's not just a falsified insurance claim.
The day you fell to your knees and wept over the great pacific ocean
In the city of angels you were humbled by its majestic potion.
A message in a bottle sent.
Or it was swept carelessly away in the rain.
The day you spoke about your loneliness sitting in an upright-coffin-confession.
Adjacent to the man who ***** children to make himself feel... more... man.
Literally, I meant.
Did that yet distract your pain?
The day you cried to the doctor about your back and lack of motion.
She had just finished up hospice for her cancer-ridden husband over the phone.
Off to die, he was sent.
But, oh, that little tiny pain.
The day you complained to your flat-mate about your job being so mundane.
As she opened the letter from her employer who fired her, after ****** her, to avoid the human resource claim.
You were hell-bent.
As she went insane.
The day you cried to your best friend about your second wedding being destroyed by the rain.
He was a man who had never felt the embrace of love, the ability to cherish, the passion and pain of a woman, he had paralyzed legs, no woman had ever loved him.
Booooooo-hoo your costume got wet.
You've never even tried to see anothers suffering.

A year has passed since I crashed my motorcycle.
The road rash had since been cast away.
The fast paced life was smashed together.
A singular bash that cached my memory.
Lights flash and whiplash has new meaning.
This thrash blinked my eyelash three days later.
Dreary forecast laid flabbergasted.

When she's here…
I crave motherly affection
I get discerning dissection
I see my pale complexion
I ignite her shopping obsession
I'm forced to give my attention
I explore every confession
I ignore every correction
I lose my own direction

When He's here.
When I have night terrors, he's next to me.
When I laugh, he smiles with me.
When I get stressed, he distracts me.
When I'm working, he follows me.
When I cry, he kisses my tears.
When I wander, he's always at my side.
When I became paralyzed, he became more alert.
When I need a hug, he accepts my one armed hug.

When I  have a Friday night...
When I have $57 to last me until late July...
When I have holes or stains in all my clothes... When I am more a burden, than not...
When I have a smile even though I'm lonely...
When I have lost my friends because I'm not convenient…
When I work myself sick for a $2 trip...
When I finally can't possibly give even just one more hand...

When I had two arms, I had ***.
When I had money, I had friends.
When I had two arms, I got invited out.
When I gave a performance, I had fans.
When I had two arms, I had careers.
When I had drugs, I had power.
When I had two arms, I could use a computer.
When I had something to steal, I had company.
When I had two arms, I got flirted with.
When I give free rides, I have passengers.
When I had two arms, men and women wanted to date me.
When I had fancy things, I was impressive.
When I had two arms, I had friends.

You piece of worthless ****
Hitting and motorcyclist a running away
Today and every hereafter, altered
Not my faltered driving
But your careless careening
Not screening the front of your bumper
That thump heard around my brains
Left to die
*******.
**** your existence.
**** your abandonment.
**** and positive luck that may EVER cross YOUR path...
The way you took my path away.

That slice of encapsulated salty fluid held tightly between windows lined with 4 millimeter long hairs
Suffice to say there are millions of colors that could bleed from that football shaped crevice
Even though it is the same sac of fluid I gaze towards on so many different occasions....
It's as if they tell a completely different story no matter how often I peer towards them.

My pretty friend, the definition,
...a Chopin-esque romantic, needing intervention
frantically resilient, a mere honorable mention
...burning for forgiveness with hypertension
Craving your redemption.

In the secret section you mention
...there's tension in your confession
another missed connection
...misled by another's deception
the impression on the connection
...a misconception on another selection
rejection is a whole new obsession
...this seventh dimension perception
the impression is to employ prevention.

Because Attention Attention!!
...need I not mention
there's no landing affections
...just internal tension
my infection is your retention
...misappropriation.
......misapprehension.

I don't kiss and tell
But you breath and I smell
She fell for an easy spell
The sun came, and ship sailed.

Me and my broken hands run across your broken face
You're leaving me a memory of just your trace
Your words spell out my name, and nothing, the same.
I say, "It's OK".
Today can be a new day.
I'm not supposed to mind that it's not "our time".
But I want everything I want.
And I didn't want you to leave me that way.
Please understand what I say
when I sing to you...
when I sing to you......
           without words.
Me and my broken hands run across the broken ground
I'm looking for the angel that I once found.
Stars spell out my name, and nothing, the same.
I say, "It's OK".
'Cuz today can be a new day.
I'm not supposed to mind that it's not our time.
But I want everything I want.
I didn't want you to leave me this way.
Please...
Please......
Understand what I say.
When I sing to you...
When I sing to you.......
            without words.


https://soundcloud.com/spsara/broken

I was in a six car collision
there was an executive decision made
to execute an evacuation of a body done with precision
by helicopter excision to division this family
and make a permanent revision to the vision held.

It's probable my daddy was being taken to a hospital
but he could have been going on a popsicle ride
to a proverbial icicle ride in the sky for that's all I knew of flying
volatile tears that never healed unstoppable fears.

Did I leave all of those women
a sacrifice
should I believe all of the judgement
paralyzed
the lies in all of the eyes I've slid by
embraceable
the saliva I've slid across the skin of too many women
overflow
losing myself in flesh just to be able to bear with...
life

the dreaded end. you can't even stand to be my friend.
remember our first "date"? you in bed early, yet I stayed late.
your friends adored me. you were too drunk to remember me.
have you a clue why you were naked in my sight
on our so romantic first night?
it wasn't because I am just that ******* hot.....
it's because your bladder could hold not.
and our last date? and every one inside our state...........
your friends compared my coolness to being greater than yours
and now all of my madness and passion just gets ignored.

You must not like someone being better than you.
Loving more than you.

Ten days ago we held hands
we walked through the desert sands and landed
I wrote you a song, more than candid, it rang
as the day long, I sang, in your head over and over
Seventy two times you heard your lover-song.
Nine days ago you couldn't wait to embrace
the thoughts that flushed your face while my whispers sang
As you pushed through your work day
waiting to be enchanted by your lover
over counters, under covers, atop a car or in the bar
wherever it could be that my hands tickled your skin
outside and within all you wanted was for those words to be real
off the paper and off my lips to feel my words by way of passion.

Then the irrational hits started tipping the ship
that was waiting at the end of the desert.
Eight and seven days ago we held hands
as the ***** sands blew through our air
I tended your illness and kissed your despair waiting for the tide to fall
through it all we walked to the end of the deserts edge.
Holding hands I saw the upcoming ledge and worried under the sun
reminding myself of your promise to not run.
Six days ago we held hands and when my foot slipped
my heart ripped
I tripped and told you I was to fall.

Five days ago I was let to fall with no hand holding mine at all.

The pad of my thumb sits on your face
It fits in that place
where your brow and cheek bone meet.
Your mouth submits to the taste of my skin
It gets my attention.
Those thin lips harbor a chase to cure
The abstention you know I endure
Until I retire the entire set of rules
I've laid out, wether weeks or months,
In this case, hours, your goal will be completed.
Because defeated isn't in your vocabulary
I'd even consider it rarely.
You win.
Which is a win-win.

When one wakes
and takes on more exhaustion
than before they've slept...

When one shakes
and the stakes doubled in depression
than before they've wept...

When the moon hides
in fear it cannot any longer please
the eyes of illusion and beauty...

When soon the falling tides
crash down, go and slam, stronger, to tease
the lies of disillusion of your cutie...

When everything crushes your skull
bones like a ghost disappear in tears
with arms lain out holding on tight...

You'll realize nothing exists in full
alone with an empty host laying in fear
and those arms are holding nothing...

every...

night.