Harmonic resonance,
I can feel it in my veins.

Vibrate with me.

Love isn't blind,
blind are those,
who never loved.

Tell me a story
I want to fall in love with a character
And forget myself inside a sway of frightful emotions

Tell me a story
About sailors, lovers, monks, and businessmen. About the end of the world. About sleepless nights

Tell me about the poet
Who lived in the woods. The forgetful snow of Canadian Decembers. The lifecycle of a Grizzly Bear

Convince me
That life is but a dream
That if we only try hard enough
We could create a happy ending

Convince me
That life has a beginning and an end.
That every human being is unique
That all of us is worth remembering

Tell me a story
A story to be told in my deathbed
While I fight for an ounce of attention
To hear another human being

That little strip of tissue
Connecting my tongue
To the bottom of my mouth
Is all torn up.

Every time I feel it,
The pain tastes like pleasure
And my mouth waters
In anticipation for more.

I know you're out there
lighting up a cigarette
from the flame of the sunlight
that reflects from the moon

and I'm out here too
puffing on my cigarette
thinking about the life we shared
inside our weary minds

as we dreamt of outer space
and love drilled in our icy hearts
but it's not possible, you see
we're too far gone to know the warmth of being in love

The reason for death, is life.
if there's a reason for life,
I do not know it.

Nor do I care to.

I digress.

The question itself has reasons.
The answer to which we've all been looking for,
for the entire span of our existence.
Searching ourselves for an answer.

Ever since having said existence
****** so unjustly upon us,
like a suit at a funeral,
or the taste of a stale cigarette.

I dream of the gray between the black and white,
I dream of the deaths between lives,
and I dream of watching the sky
through someone else's eyes.

...and I wonder if it looks the same.

"When first I opened this book, I felt the pain of it's spine beginning
to break. Although this may be my initial entry, I dread the day that
the binding gives way & spills the golden-edged pages unto my lap.
What a curse to envision death before we've yet to even begin living,
what a tragedy to squander and waste this time that I've been given."