When I look into the moon I see the only dependent part of me that still exists. Its as if the silence in her vocal cords spoke words of solitude. I gave her the only bio mechanical part of me that mattered.

The gears in my chest keep turning like clock work.
I count seconds into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into days. I keep thinking time is standing still while im still standing still.

I'm waiting, waiting on patience and as unjustified as it sounds I'm impatient. Dreams are just your natural thoughts heavily sedated, a sub-conscious reality based off the feelings we cant display them.

I don't consider myself a writer, I see the constant flow of words and as a kid it left me inspired. I'm more of the sub concious reality type. I drink coffee and outside of that I really don't have a life.

For me writing is self exspression without being judged by others.
I opinionate my feelings and organize them in ink. The papper is my empty canvas, my thoughts are my judgment, and the pen is the deliverer.

Sometimes writing is the only thing that can stitch my wounds, like the words curved inside my brain penetrating like the needlesof a tattoo. I wonder what will become me, in what paradox will I redeem the sum of me?

I just hope this bio mechanical heart ticks away. I hope people continue to be people with different mindsets and open steeples. I want love to be found and dreams to be created.

Kalvin Moon

Beneath this stone there is a heart, it does not beat when we're apart, it does not move, to you I'd prove, my heart remove, its yours to take, but for my sake, to dull this ache, to fill this space that i did make, exchange me yours, there is no clause, there is no test, in me invest, you're heart bequest, our souls coalesce, our love confessed,

                      Forever blessed.

All aglow we were
from the smoldering
ember of love within.
Each felt the warmth
loving hearts exude
when we all were
in an extended embrace.
Then we heard love
singing to us sans words
"None of you would
feel complete
without the others
in this web of love
hereafter"

so i wound
whats left of my feeling
in copper wire.
The idea being;
any regretful shocks will
jumpstart-my heart-healing.

Red sheets and the
Cool sides of my crimson pillow case.
Warm air
Breezes into my brand new place.
My fan is rotating
The birds are conversating
The sun will rise soon
And then it will be noon
And then the day will be done
But I'll still feel the sun
From my heart beat sheets
And my room, complete.

I want to be completely responsible for someone , just like a mother to a baby ,
I will love that person very deeply and
I'd care , more than myself .

"Why did you stop trying to fix me?" she asked.

"Because, you can't glue someone back together when they won't hold still long enough to dry."

The earth beneath my feet
Mother nature surrounds me
And I..
Am complete.

And then she smiled
I didn't think it was possible
And I really don't know why it never occurred to me
The possibility of her ultimate happiness was a foreign concept I suppose
But look, look at her now
It's finally complete
He came home