Please, good sir, do not hold me to the standards of my past.

Whittled away, I am approaching the infinite axis.

I’m only a ghost of who I was in previous moments.

Please don’t take the footsteps I tread yesterday

And fit them under the shadow that falls in front of me.

Though I find them both as extensions of myself,

Lying flat across the bare crest of the Earth,

They are destined to never be the same.

You say we are in love.
I say I disagree.

Perhaps the oldest eyes on the earth
Can tell you what love truly is.

I may not suffice to write
A complete explanation

But I can tell you what I know
And what I know that is not.

Love needs no reminders
Tricks or ruses.

It is always there.
Ever present and constant.

A part of who we are
An endless chapter in the book of life.

Less a burning passion, but more a steady seed,
planted within, sprouting roots and leaves.

You say that we are in love
But I find this not true.

One of us is in love.
And it is not you.

people see your skill

   and name it Talent

      in reality,

         Talent walked you to the door

            knocked twice,

               then disappeared

                  and you were left with Grit.

Love me like a dandelion.
Bask in bright colors of the summer sun,
But appreciate the beauty of wintery whites
Then set me free with the wandering wind
Only to hope it begins again.

My heart, it bleeds.
My mind keeps sending
These thoughts never-ending
As if a train-wreck of infinite cars.
How can I ever clean this mess up?
Or invent thoughts so long?
Or the words to a song?
That my ear needs.

At least tell me...
Never knowing is the hardest chore.

Through my eyes,
You could be out with a friend,

You may have taken a leap,
Never to be seen again.

Perhaps you’ve decided,
We’ve come to our end.

‘Tis all fine, indeed.
But at least, tell me,
So I can finally be sane once more.

They say true happiness
Is like the sun,
Rising—a lark, masking the dark.

Perhaps, but such joy is fleeting…

What’s lasting emotion?
Star in black sky,
Content with flight, through spectral night.

Give in. Give in.
To blackness shrouding out hope.
It matters not my earnings nor blessings,
Let pain, let bitterness swallow me whole.

Give in. Give in. Give in.
To my darkest hours of sorrow.
The spark of flames offer none to the blind,
Let hurt, let emptiness swallow my soul.

The color of thick smoke, but feathery like haze.

The sound off its wings reminiscent
Of today’s technology, humming persistent,

Its snout a needle, searching for veins.

I avert my eyes from the unpleasant theft
As though recoiling from alcoholic breath;

Though, when it bites, its midriff inflames,

To the sweet red hue of indulgence...
But never without consequence...

A person’s skin, left welted and maimed.

“Don’t touch it!” they scold,
But resolve grows old...

Scratching is all that I crave…

There’s something in the way he holds me.  It’s an inescapable void.
Me the weary traveler, he the siren.  I cannot turn away from his song.


There’s something in the way he falls short.  It’s a story, far too often read.
An ongoing battle, waged in my soul.  Labored, my psyche falls casualty.


There’s something in him I cannot tarnish.  It can’t be scrubbed from existence.  
A type of purity, only seen through my eyes.  Alluring, it defies my ethics.  



There’s something about him.  His grasp, his clutch…my running…it grows tiring.
Whispered prayers are all I have left…I see myself falling: I see my death.


I see the cycle
commence again.

Scorching was the color of toil,
As my feet carried me to and fro
And my hands carried the weight of service,
And my heart begging to be let go.

Alas, through the doors, a drifting breeze,
Filled with aromas, never before known,
And the cool colors of misty blues,
Instantly to her, all eyes were sewn.

I was greeted with the brightest smile,
Colors of a warm sunny hue,
But mystery shrouded her rosey cheeks,
A girl like her takes a table for two.

Yet there she sat, her company a book,
Although her eyes wandered often astray,
Most often at times, meeting mine in passing,
Lonely, they seemed to ask me to stay.

The words I wished I had spoken were left,
As a language conveyed through gestures,
And before I knew she was floating away,
Reminiscent of a distant messenger.

My eyes followed her step by step,
Off to the distant lapping of waves.
Shyly she joined, her soles with the water
She became one of the gifts God gave.

As I watched her blossom under the summer sky
Those deep colored eyes turned to me,
They said that she had no needs any longer,
And I seemed to know we would never be.

And she danced with the waves,
And the waves danced at her feet,

And she played in the sun,
And the sun played with her hair,

And her hair framed her face,
As the delicate portrait of nature’s beauty.