this is about a woman.

how does one even put into words
the sense of it all ?

she was the song upon hearing
that changes one's life.

her smiles breaks your Heart
not from sadness;
but the ice that held it together in
permafrost had melted.

and she shines !

she floats around the house
and
my heart,
speaking of nothing
and meaning Everything

she was here.

her scent lingers on it all
and my heart is stained.
pieces of her float in the air
like Dandelion into my coffee
and soul

i traced her form and
buried my face into her hair
while we were complete
and i knew what Home was

she can alleviate the world's hurt
when she strides atop you and holds yours face.
her hair is sand on a hot beach
and it cascades down, burning
but there-in lies safety.

and her eyes
sparkle
when she looks into yours.
they're emerald seas just off the shore
when you can see the sand through
the water.

and she's hungry
and impatient
she wants the future and your love
and fiercely buries herself into your chest.

her skin is kissed by the Sun
warm velvet and tender hands
and yearning curves
and traces of myself.

she takes pieces of me
and carries them with her
when she leaves.
she carries them in the quiet places,
close to her heart.

and i give them freely
these little pieces
but they make her shine
and i could Live
off that love

one of these days
in a world not of my own
i will cast off my doubts
and search for Us
a new land

one of these days
in a world not of my own
i will slice my hands
on grasses made of steel
by neatly gathering hay
to thatch the roof

one of these days
in a world not of my own
i will break my back
as i stack the walls high
and turn stone into Gold

one of these days
in a world not of my own
i will find a thousand kitemakers
to craft a thousand black kites
to celebrate this house

one of these days
in a world not of my own
my bones will chill
as august draws near
but have nothing to wear

one of these days
in a world not of my own
i will clad myself in leaves
someone! lend me a sleeve!
i must clothe the ones i love
in the one shirt that i own

one of these days
in a world not of my own
i will dress in thorny vines
that i have picked
deep within the mountains
This,
to let you know i am here.

one of these days
in a world not of my own
the full blood moon rises
and Smiles like Mocking Deity
it is a herald
of the distance between

and on that day
in a world that i have made my own
broken,bleeding,cold and enraptured by love
i beg you to visit
and i will ask the clouds
to hide the moon
if only for a short while.

plume and pistol.
a fitting end
to folly.

i'm falling in love again.
or maybe
rediscovering that Capability
within myself.

i'm falling in love again.
with life, and all of it's
idiosyncrasy.

i'm falling in love again.
with people who are
Ghosts.
percieved wisps of persona.
what ethereal Pedestals i put them upon!

i'm falling in love again.
with the way you look into my eyes.
but  cataracts of reality squander.

i'm falling in love again.
with the struggle of man.
to endure unrequited affections,
and quiet moments of Vulnerability.

i'm falling in love again.
with the prospects of loving again.

first, you gotta stop writing for a few years.
a good dance with Depression
never Hurt anyone.

during this time you're
getting four hours of sleep,
only to sleep till six.
living in squalor,
**** both
literal and otherwise.
trying to get your ulcers
fixed
while drinking yourself to death.

you won't be able to hold a job down
but you'll tell her
and Yourself
that you're trying your best.
so you'll sell ****
to make ends meet.
and you'll take the pills
that they give you because
Doctors say it stops suicide.

and so with whatever Narcissism
you can muster you
Hang On.
using people and drugs and
yourself. wringing it all Dry
like a spent rag.

you lie and tell her you love her
as you *******
into your whale of a girlfriend
because that's all you think
you Deserve.

maybe it was ?

but now you're moving
to a new city
maybe a new you.
you know it's not to run away
from yourself
this time.

maybe it's to make Something.

and i,
being the broken
toy soldier.
a book
with cracked spine,
still wait.

someone
must have
some glue.

your birthday party.
sirens.
crowds gathered in the lawn,
both
from the festivities
and more,
after the incident.

i'm told
that the piece
of hard candy
you choked on
dissolved before
help could arrive.

4 years old,
and the balloons
on your mailbox
seem more Haunting
than celebratory.