I have a persistent existence

there are echoes in his shadowed clouds
thunder and rain drops falling from the sky
he says he loves me
but I dare not ask why

I share my dreams
so detailed it seems

they're made up things

he has seen me lie
so I tell the truth

until it echoes
   e c h  o   e   s
like how my eyelids open

to the sound of thunder
to the sounds of my mistakes

he shakes the wake of my existence
holds no pride in his resistance

teaches me to be true
in all that I do

even when

staying up late nights
I explain to him what it is I write
regretting nothing
forgiving fights

the words mean more than nothing
because
the confusion of our illusions
that we can't believe in
drop like rain
they drop like rain

singing pain in the untold thoughts
that mean more
than the washed up shore
that had tidal waves
(untold graves)  
seashells sea ringing
(the hells are singing)

so don't stop bringing
your music, your art
the love we have
not yet torn apart

keep playing
keep singing
love bringing

your heart
creates art

A kaleidoscope
Of your hair, lips, eyes
Is all I see
Laying in the cool grass
Enveloped in a curtain of night

Twinkling stars that
form constellations in my heart
and resonate in my chest,
Are honey drops
of your laughter

Gravity loosens its hold,
I lose my breath and
the world tilts
When the scent of your skin
Seeps through my pores

Under my fingertips
You,
Ignite the sun's never ending ember
that flows through me,
Melting the moon

And the taste of you darling,
melting in my mouth
oh so sweet,
leaving a trace

of the milkyway

****** and bruised,we hold our heads up high.
We keep blocking the noise inside our heads by cursing at the sky,singing the anthem of the ******.
Hell bound,we only pray for things we need to make us feel alive.
Only when tucked in "I love you's" or "I'm a mess" do we say "God".
We keep committing crimes,using our sob stories as our excuses.
As if your bruises and wounds are enough to provide vindication,
As if our pain could justify our sins.
Neglected social casualties,we glorify our alienation,use our insecurities as weapons and wound others instead.
I'm sorry because we can't be saved.I'm sorry because we are told that,"it's all in your head".I'm sorry because growing up means succumbing to the cancer that is life.
I'm sorry,I really am.

My name is signed between my skin
In ink for words we say but don't take in
They write a new name on every whim
And my blue ink skin it blends right in

We break out of our cages in succession of escape
Say words lacking meaning but then we mean them in the end
They shove us into paper boxes and leave ***** agape,
Yet with possibilities of freedom we lay eyes shut and pretend.

A box and a pen in collision of our thoughts
Until we become one with the blue ink they sought

-SZ