It's hard not to
fall in love
with someone

when
they see the
mixed up parts of your
soul.

When
they understand
the darkest and
dustiest
corners of your mind.

When
it's four a.m.
and they call
because
they know you're
not
asleep

270

One Life of so much Consequence!
Yet I—for it—would pay—
My Soul’s entire income—
In ceaseless—salary—

One Pearl—to me—so signal—
That I would instant dive—
Although—I knew—to take it—
Would cost me—just a life!

The Sea is full—I know it!
That—does not blur my Gem!
It burns—distinct from all the row—
Intact—in Diadem!

The life is thick—I know it!
Yet—not so dense a crowd—
But Monarchs—are perceptible—
Far down the dustiest Road!

I dreamed my own death,
last night:

dug down deep through
dirges and dingy old dirt
my bed and my tomb are
one and the same.
like a blanket the dirt piles above
and like a mattress the
dirt layers below.
it gets so tiring,
sometimes;
sleep is a cousin to death.
there are loved ones
sobbing far away and
others laid around me,
lost and caught among
the endless eddies and streams
of neverending loneliness
that we all have felt,
some time.
it is a common experience,
a collective, conscious thought--
we float up and out of our bodies,
our gases and our atoms mixing with the
dirt,
the mud,
the worms and
the bodies
and the
ever-lost matter
of countless others come before
and countless more come
after.
we are all living in order to die as
after our death there will be nothing added
and nothing left;
the base materials,
the elements and bits of star stuff
have always been
and always will be
even when they are not
us.
really,
it is the
accepting of our own
demise--
our ashes to ashes and
the plastering of the
dustiest of dusts
that shall settle
and lay on thick
in layers and levels of
lost and loopy illuminations
of a mind that is filled with holes and rot.

The memories fade
The hurt abate
The scars so deep;
The flecks of red
on walls so white.
Sole testimony to the time.

The knowing smiles
The intoxicated wiles
Lie abandoned in the
dustiest attics of our minds
While here I stand
Outside  myself
Done and dusted
Weaving tales of a distant time

Every waking moment
a painful reminder
of the distance
keeping us separate

It's as though
my hands are reaching
for something
I can't touch

Time and space
between us both
only serves to cause
another heartache
another teardrop
another painful flashback

It's almost surreal
whenever our paths
cross

She makes me whole
filling empty spaces
in my heart
like elixer
satiating
my parched soul

She plants roses
in my veins
and paint colours
in my mind
She makes reality
a little more tolerable

Her voice
a cheerful ******
resonates throughout
my entire being
undulating even
the dustiest chords
in my soul

Her eyes
those soulful windows
searches the recesses
of my soul
helping me
find myself

Her scent
a lingering fragrance
that never seems
to dissipate
from my mind

She's the reason
I remain awake at night
She has turned reality
into a sweet dream

And every night
I pray for her
before
I slip into slumber
to dream of her

She can't even notice those eyes,
those eyes that seem to take her threads off, her skin off.
But they don't even know that by the time she reaches home,
she cuts her skin so the blood would flow
out of her sluggish veins.

She can't even look at the sky,
the sky that seemed to fall ******* her open wounds and scars.
But the birds don't even know that as they chirped their way up and soar,
she wishes for the moment when she could finally fly
away from her lonely home.

She can't even turn a deaf ear to a lie,
a lie she wished she never had to hear, as if something so real.
But his lips don't even know that as he tried to show it all,
his lies made up a castle of thorns, of broken hopes,
amused a girl not so strong.

She can't even take a glance at everything around,
everything around her that seems to crush her to the dustiest ground.
But the world doesn't even know how she carries that smile,
all to outbrave a surging vehemence,
an anonymity behind.

She can't spell her words but she sure has the guts,
the guts to keep herself from treading off the expected path.
But there's this one thing that she doesn't even really know,
she may be made up of scars and lies and thorns,
but the beauty in her has not really gone.

I sit here depressed at 2 AM
and I can't help but wonder where the time went
when did I go wrong and fall lose off track
of my life, it causes fluttering heart attacks
I feel solitary may bring solidarity
I yearn to progress personally to singularity

But I'm stuck in a rut and mud is taking over
The Earth covers me with blankets, pulls me closer,
A warm hug isn't what I want but what I needed
From all these thoughts my brain is too heated
and I'm scared of what's to come
my friends are gone, if I ever had one

I enter and leave this world by myself
my life just one page in the dustiest book on the shelf
It scares me that I won't be remembered
my words service to see my image rendered
in minds and hearts of those I have touched
And with you the touch was too much

I lay my hand upon your heart
and it burned in, I can see the mark
I'm not a bad person, but who am I?
I take my body and throw it up to the sky
A scar is what I left on you
I can't heal it, not even with superglue

but you will live on, and so will I
and the only thing for us to do is try
march your feet in the onward direction
and at the end we meet our reflection

Perhaps this is exactly what I need
Cause for awhile all I have done is bleed

It is the eyes

It
        Is
The
       Eyes
That
     Travels
Into
       Seas
Of
          Endlessness
Into
       Waves
Of
            Consciousness
It
        Is
                ­           The
                                 Eyes
It
        Is
The
           Eyes
That
                    Sparks
              On
           ­         Midnight's
Blur
      That
          Calls
Forth
             Light
                    Into

________   *the­
              DARK

It
        Is
                  The
                             Eyes
                           It
                       Is
                  The
               Eyes
            That
         Reaches
       For
     Tomorrow's
Dreams
     That
          Searches
              Through
                   Depths
                       Of
                          Souls
                              ­ That
                                   Pierces
                                      The
               ­                            Dustiest
                                                Parches
        ­  Of
     Hearts
                   It is the eyes
                         That
                     Quenches
                 The
               Yearning
          Of
       The
     Minds
It
        Is
     The
         Eyes

It
         Is
      The
            Eyes

Evna-Luna©©©©©©©©©©

*IT IS THE EYES

quiet minds lightly preoccupied
unspoken words that don’t need to be said
a white house in a white room
where all the light is green
pushed through an old bottle
just the three of us, like it used to be
    -minus one
naivety lost
it’s shadow still hangs in the dustiest corners of the room
i leap through velvet mountains
and dive through smokey books
no sounds can penetrate the walls of our silence
i can see the smile in your eyes
twisting your face for the first time in forever
giggles and remnants of the past
as we delve into years back
of white afternoons