Leafs leave branches unwillingly
Dry and withered they become
They long for the connection they lost

A new leave grows in its stance
Jealously dying at the sight of new leafs
One with the ground they become

That fate looms near to me
Don't ask me to let you go
Let me go or hold on as tight as I you
Fall with me and we will be the bough

I'm not moving straight,

I am a piece of something --


bigger that rotates.

I cling to you
When the world scratches
And howls like a wolf.
A place that's well lit,
Safe from harm.
I find my way to you
Following the echo
Of the howl.
Hoping that it doesn't
Recede before I am there.

The world around is more
Dangerous at night,
Broken branches, the chitter
Of odd and hungry creatures.
I, too, hunger to find you
Before its too late,
Willing to scratch and claw
On this unkempt, jagged edge.

Its much too cold away from you.
The warmth of your skin,
The fire of your heart.
I can feel it pulsate
through my veins. When the world
Goes mad,
And begins to howl
in hunger.
Your chest is the shelter
I turn to, the only place
The world hasn't gotten to.

We collide like thunder.
Wrapped in your indigo skin,
Wrapped in your warmth,
Fingers dig through the ache
Of wanting more.
Coiled tight,
Clinching,
An reaction of skin
pressed against skin.
I wear your shadow.
Thick in your sweat.
Like lightening you stretch.
Your breath rises,
In search of something to devour.
Again we collide.
Striking the gap
of emptiness between us.
Your eyes searching me.
The primal urge
to connect.
Still searching.
Still craving.
Marking where we lay,
Until the next storm

Losing fragments of your essence— those fresh nicks from a heavy
blade on your hair; each strand carries the legacy of generations,
a tale waiting to be shared with your heirs. Ears dulled by the
overwhelming tide of emotions, as the ocean of your tears are
divided for the two days you permit yourself to weep. There’s a
Moses in your gaze, appearing on weekends when the burdens
of the week leave you feeling so weak.

Knees trembling under the weight of an unyielding deception—
striving to connect to an acceptable truth; through a faith that has
morphed like a password to someone’s compromised Wi-Fi.
Choked by the very words you struggle to articulate; those
emotions blur the line between reality and forgetfulness.

Tonight, you ventured out to dance with your own spirit—both
hands firmly on yourself; yet the crowd feels a bit too touchy,
with those who aspire to be G.O.A.Ts You turn to them and say,
“Please keep your kids in your pants.”

Your hair was shorter than the breath it takes to articulate your
thoughts, as you begin to feel like a transparent shard of glass: a ghostly
figure they see through. You entered this multitude hoping to remain
single, but to at least mingle with kindred souls who endure every hit
life throws their way, encapsulated in a brief collection of life’s greatest
hits from a solo artist’s single. We all crave that connection with people.