When I lay in bed at night
I see your face
floating in the light-less air of my sleeplessness,
When I’m laying in the grass
Staring at the sky
I see your eyes in the clouds,
When I’m walking down the street
I see strangers
that look like you,
& At the setting of the sun
I see your figure
in the trailing shadows.
Always.
Slipping.
Through.
My.
Fingers.
Let me grasp this, this entity you are.
Because you’re more than human,
or you’re at least part supernova
or a quarter stardust
or something.

You're in my blood.

Running through my veins,
while jumping to conclusions
And skipping over rationality.
•
slipping nakedly, ragingly, fearfully into that familiar muddy water
swirling with the same doubts,
The same resentment.
Floating in the heaviest way.
•
You're in search of the culprit,
shifting blame & igniting into terror
what was just mere fumes.
•
Your gravity seeping deeply through my sternum, my heart.
The subtle clenching, gnawing ache.
A swell welling up within my chest
•
And when the wave crashes,
It pulls you into the undertow
Drowning you with peaceful thoughts, saving my breath for breathing in life. Fastening anchors to your talons and casting you off without a second thought.
•
I regain myself when I throw you overboard. I again become purposeful, diligent, confident. And although I know you'll be back again periodically, one day I hope to find a way to forget your name.
•
Your name is Anxiety, Your name is Depression.

True warmth runs deep,
in the web of your reds and your blues,
wrapping and running over every inch of you.
Ninety eight and a fraction of degrees
seeping hot through the intricate map of your bones and tissue.
Every inch bounded in webs and ebbs
of flowing colors,
an endless river to forever be submerged.
How strange is it that the heart resides in a cage?
Protected, beating, behind marrow bars.
Cells in its cell,
fighting and beating in protest to your gentle decay.
Such a display resides within us all,
all blood a testament to the sameness of us.
And if I've captivated you for a moment,
might I ask how different are we?
How my blood runs different than yours?
Though our bodies tell different stories,
the blood is no different.
When you slay them where they stand,
the blood that flows and the tears that fall have no title or rank.
We all bleed the same.

Before stiff frost of winter melted to spring dew,
That was when I met you.
Windy gusts of goosebumps to fill the air
Making my arms stippled wings,
Almost ready to fly.
You wove me through the winds of those westward peaks.
Through sugar dusted days,
you were quickly woven in me.

My life's fabric,
newly adorned with the imprint of you-
A colorful, bright adornment to a darker whole.

The frost did melt,
And the river began to flow,
Your promising path was dealt.
And while you sailed away, the rains came, dropping silently from blue eyes
Slowly feeding the river.

It wasn't until the last drop of rain fell
That I noticed my wings
Full of life, renewed in strength and vigor
It was then I realized
You were my catalyst
For my own flight

While others fastened anchors to me,
Freedom was your gift

And with gratitude
The sea bird flies
Hoping to reach the mouth of the river
That carried you

I see your mind as a house
A mansion in fact
With so many rooms
And all closed doors
Capable of sustaining so much
Yet uninhabitable

It's just skin
Beautiful flesh
Our comforting cellular blanket
And yet it's color
And it's origin
And what skin you lay next to is somehow a controversial subject...
The validity of a vital *****
becomes a debate
In respect to a background
fueled by hate
To continue a legacy of violent, turbulent, shallow judgement;
If you used those stones cast at others
To build a tower instead
You could get a new view
and see the world
as a shared habitat
and to stop waging violence with words.

the flesh of the fruit
is a precious barrier
Holding all things important within
I protest this skin
Deserves to live
In peace

I saw what the world wanted me to be
I saw the projections  and figures everywhere
I saw the expectations, the social constructs
the suggestions, the insistence
and then
i stopped looking
I took away the mirror and let it fall to the floor
a million pieces
I invited my seven years of bad luck
so I could stop looking.
I looked within myself instead.
I stood on the edge of the mountain, where society wanted to push me over the edge
I stood on the edge of the ocean, where it wanted the waves to drown me
I clung to the earth, where it's winds and currents would rather have me swept away.
I stood there and I screamed.
I bellowed into the deepest valley, and across the sea
I wanted every ear to feel the sound
I howled until my lungs felt free
" E N O U G H "
rejecting the false image pushed upon me
I looked within myself and found the universe when the earth wanted to swallow me whole.
My reflection belongs to me,
this world cannot contain me
but it tried to own me
Self liberated
from imposed shackles.

I'm a pacifist at heart, never really been one to gravitate to the shadows
and I know these words are like daggers
and I know my gaze is a blanket of ice

but I thought you should know
the search and rescue for your spine found nothing
the quest for your backbone was a failed mission
I tried putting on your shoes and walking for miles
but it was your patterns that wore me thin

what was once a bond
is now a burned bridge
and a lot got caught up in that fire
the fortress of your affection fell to the flames
revealing the fragile framework
the structure that appeared to be solid, stone
caught ablaze and piled to ashes
no phoenix rose there
no memorial erected in it's loss

a quiet void is where i buried the memory of you
deep down in the earth, turning in your grave of lies
bound by the roots of truth and exposure.
To me, the version of you I knew will always be dead.
If you ever fight for your resurrection, go back to the light
find the truth and hold on to it,
I'll be interested to see
if you die on your feet or live on your knees.

A box of matches in your hand

You hold one before me, I catch your glance

I watch you strike it,
friction igniting an incense of fireside

I see the flame reflecting in the glossiness of your eyes

So bright and beautiful, warm

As swift as it’s flame became, it’s out

The smell of burning pine, cold

So comforting yet sullen

and without regard or regret I had fallen

Falling now, deeper into ashes

Of quickly struck matches

I’ll be here with my arms stretched wide

Ready to catch a break

Instead of all these curveballs

That keep hitting me in the face

I don’t even like baseball

⚾️

In my dreams, it seems
there are means for meaning to convene,
an odd mind space in between
what exists and what is unseen;
often intangible serene,
grand, surreal, green
but just a dream it seems,
just a dream a dream a dreeeaaaammmm
coming undone at the seams
ethereal threads, silky sheen
a dimension where the mind teems
a shoulder for my soul's body to lean
my vivid, living dream

I drew the curtains back
It shed light on the shadows that had been following me
It answered my questions of fidelity  
The light spilled in and it rang like a bell

I answered to it’s call, it’s resonance beckoning to draw a line
I allowed for the divide to separate us

It’s path was immediately opened up
A large trench ripping through the earth
A huge void in the space where we were once connected

You threw hatchets of lies to try and get to me
Seeking a dangerous approach to get back on the other side
On my side

Standing my ground and siding with truth,
I left you there

It was then you took up painting
Trying to render the whole picture
- biased and ill interpreted

Painting me
black
red
dead

That’s no portrait at all