Can I hold your hand
not a hug
nor a kiss
just the clasp of your fingers
around my palm
feel the veins of blood
filled with love
against my own, pulsing
and the tapping of fingertips
and nerves tingling
the tender roughness
colliding with my own
A firebrand of fingers
burning for mine
can I just hold your hand
2 pages and too many ashes.
The smell of smoke still lingering in the air.
And so another piece of my life falls.
And I don't know where to go from here.
I read back, looking at old texts.
Searching for the moment when things changed. And I found it.
And even if I never recreate the better part of myself.
Those conversations, those meaningful stories, that friendship will always exist.
I mean... it's the eternal bond we share.
I try not to write in past tense. Like there's a chance to be okay again.
And there is.
There always will be.
Because I will never look back and be bitter. I'll look back with a smile.
Because I was honest... and that is the best I can do.
I'll never shut you out.
But we have to meet halfway do we not?
radiating from your body
its all you know
it was once all you wanted
burning me from the inside out
but not the kind you can make
a mere fraction of what you know you can do
something oh-so-close to comfort
but the burning is all you've ever known
you gave me all you could
in both my eyes and hair
chapped lips which call desperately for yours
the fire which surrounds us is nothing compared the burning
i don't mind
now we can match
when i saw you
anger rippling in the flames you create
there is more to you than this
the first time you saw me again
the first time you let me hold you
the first time you felt heat
the first fire
Burn burn burn
turning around and around in a world
gone mad on illusion,
be glad to scrawl some truth
on the walls of self,
this prison we create for ourselves
endless as the space between things
atomic glances in the glaciers
of arctic reality, alone.
Alone and with you, just you
alone, alone with you, just you.
You don't exist, I am here, alone.
Loneliness the barricaded cliche;
a comfort from the complexity of Pandora cities,
lived network, passing moments, waste,
waste bucket lies and lives -
Cries in the sombre darkness of the city streets
heathens and homeless burning, dying
spice addicted fiend crying in empty
alleyways, and me alone, crying, dying
slowly, in this cage of my own creation,
the only thing that keeps me sane -
creation of hope, "delusion you dope" says
voice inside, burning bright demon.
Burn and fry, mottle and cascade downwards,
find yourself in the dirt of experience
and avert your gaze to the heavens.
What choice do we have?
The alternative burns and haunts my soul.
Burn baby burn.
Cracked lips hurt the most.
You learned this when you were young.
Naive and overwhelmed by the things you felt.
You didn’t understand them and so you ignored them.
Pretending that your mind didn’t scream at you,
Smacking at the bloody fingers that tried to pry at the closet doors.
Then you met him.
And you remembered that band aids exist.
That alcohol can clean the wounds that cover your skin.
You were so caught up in feeling something,
That you forgot liquor stings when it hits flesh.
curious animals beating on drums
a feeling of tranquility overwhelms my veins
this spirits presence is too much like magic
for now this melody is a hex
enchanting my mind to think
as if they were drums
a dizzying mess of sounds
blessings of fresh air swirling in my lungs
convincing the reality to fade away
soft rain falls to this melody
for now the language of the rain speaks
a magical hymn
Fogged up mind
suffocated by smoke
burning away all my worries
I close my eyes, letting this feeling take me away
I am new
For I no longer hold the traits of a human.
Sorrow, misery, jealousy, every feelings of guilt is washed away
veins filled with energies dancing stillness.