A Beast shakes me awake.

I am lying next to you,
and I watch your chest slowly
rise,
fall,
rise,
fall,
your soft breaths even
except for
the occasional sharp inhale;

A Beast  tilts my head the other way.

I am staring into empty space,
but soon enough my brain recreates
my cacophony of thoughts,
shredded wisps of what was and what
has yet to be.
A woman with honeysuckle skin
trails her finger along my jawline,
and I melt into her.
She is not you.

A Beast makes me look into your eyes.

You're awake now,
and your eyes glint with enigma;
They flicker with something unknown
before you look away.
You are not honeysuckle.
You are as sharp as each of your
pen strokes on paper,
crisp as a newly typed  narrative,
a Colossus of all that was
and all that has yet to be.

A Beast asks me if this is what I want.
He tells me he knows the answer.

Winter at night is like the sun
has been lost from the sky,
but still seems to light up the heavens.
And the moon is missing,
but you can still find your way
to your darling’s bed.
But I like to think               ✺
that the sun               ❋              ✲
and the moon                  ❉
are lost lovers                          
and winter is the only time
they can escape long enough to
steal a kiss from one another         ✺
in some far away galaxy that
no one knows.                            ❊
And without the moon          ❋
to hold control,
the waves go crazy
kissing the shores
aggressively and relentlessly.
And everyone is in love.

There's a dusty book on an old chestnut bookshelf,
'Love' scrawled across the spine in golden letters.

Everyone has read it's secrets and taken them to heart.
Everyone has tasted it's nectar and gotten drunk on its words.

Everyone has prayed to its truths.
Everyone has promised to abide.

Verse I: She will love him.
Verse II: He will love her.

She-him, he-her.
These pronouns are tattooed in my eye lids.

These pronouns course through my veins.
These pronouns are stuck in my throat.

I'm choking on a normality I've been force fed,
my insides burning with society's expectations.

As I prayed every night for the man of my dreams.
As I confessed ever boy I had ever kissed.

As I looked at him and felt nothing.
As I looked at her and felt everything.

My fingers skimmed the pages of society's bible,
the pages slicing apart my fingers and leaving blood in the margins.

When my friends placed the rosary around their hands,
and I placed my hands in hers.

When I looked into the words being taken so blindly,
and my body created antibodies for every lie I had contracted.

And I stared into the verses, washing them away with angry tears.
And I threw the book into the fire, watching as the flames made their final edits.

And I looked into her eyes, and I tasted her lips.
And I let everything about her become everything I know.

I ignored the teachings I had once treasured and wrote a book for myself.
I learned to be unfaithful, and put my faith in her.

When someone says your name

I don’t hear it

I feel it

In my bones, my skin, my lungs, my heart

The way I feel when you say mine. 

A voice so pure and delicate

It sounds like an angel spreading her wings

In the pale moonlight.

Like honey

Dripping from the clouds above

Down a waterfall of serenity

Flowing through me like rain

Radiating warm drops of bliss

With each passing moment.

I am a wolf.
You are the moon,
my moon.

I climb the highest mountains,
just to see you.
Continuous cries of love,
with nothing in return.

Sailing so high above the clouds,
you must forget what its like,
to be a wolf,
to be so low.

Our love will never be.
Destined for failure,
you can never be mine,
Luna Boy.

Yet I will always return
to you.
Even when you leave me alone,
howling in the darkness of my mind.