There is
a foul taste
in my mouth

A cave with circus
elephants in my chest

A sinking ship
in my stomach

A grieving cloud
in my tearful eyes

It is as though I
have died after you

The day you left
Azrael himself wept

And the suffocating silence of your
absence was deeper than your grave

They're meeting in laundromats.
They're meeting in bars.
They're meeting at stop signs, grocery stores and parks.

They're meeting at that new hipster restaurant downtown
(I've read that their noodles are to die for.)

It's happening all the time,
all around the world,
right where you live and everywhere beyond.

Young hearts intertwine at the drop of a dime.

Lonely hearts march on.

A need to be done
A period to end this sentence
Did the time, then some
I need no more witness

In this moment hung
Within walls that mark off spaces
The air that fills my lungs
Can't blow away the traces

Left here, in these emptied lines
Simple letters twist into signs
that I cannot unwind
I cannot forget these faces

A moon is said to cause the tides
A sun is said to tan our hides
I know these to be lies, now
Love commits these crimes

The ebbing of my life

From wants towards this need

Blind them with too much or blind them with too little. Then they'll see your half truth and think it a whole.

Hand them some sticks and teach them to whittle. Then they'll see the forest and think to cut's the only goal.

Somewhere inbetween these things, somewhere in the middle. Bouncing off the heart and brain, there's this thing they call a soul.

Where have you gone?
Have you absconded
To somewhere better.
I'm accustomed to loneliness,
But I still hate feeling lonely.
I fester in memories
That keep me an invalid
To love.
If I didn't think you're touch could save me
I'd leave you alone,
But I am prone
To romantic ideas
That have no basis in reality.

how childishly we make
  mockery of time
how foolishly we fear
   its passing
the common cliché
  of turning twenty nine
    over and over
until we find ourselves
  making the same joke
   at thirty nine
     and forty nine
       and...
as if ever new decade
  every new day
     isn’t a privilege
        a blessing
something we are
  not guaranteed
    not owed
     not all given
there is nothing to fear
in accepting our mortality
in learning that death
will greet us warmly
in knowing that it is
  the same with
    our last breath
      as it is with
        our first breath
each one a gift
   that can only be given
     by the passing of time
why should we
  fear the unknown
    the unknowable
to such a degree
that we allow it
   to take away
     to distract us
from the gift of this moment
  the every present
    passing of time
it will all pass and be gone
   in less than
    the blink of an eye
an eternity come and gone
  in the breeze
no matter how long
or short our lives will be
   in the end
     it will always be
      too short
        end
          too soon
let us enjoy each breath
that time allows us
gives us
as children do
gratefully unaware
of how childishly
we will grow