It's cold.
Everything's distorted,
And I can't breathe.
I'm fighting,
Struggling to move,
Then it's freezing.
My eyes sting,
I gasp for breath,
But everything becomes crisp and clear.
The waterfall is pulling me in
As I drift around the pool of blue.
I'm moving closer and closer
Then I'm suddenly under.
It's all white and everything's moving so fast
I'm being crushed
And I'm so scared
I'm never going to escape
I can't breathe
I don't know what to do
Then it all stops.
I'm floating again.
Drifting along a cool cushion.
I can see,
I can breathe.
Everything's okay.

Heat-
The very contrast to my wintry,iced fingertips.
Warmth of the soul, of the heart,
But froze so long, the heart can only be thawed so much-
The flesh remains gelid, cold to the touch.
Associated with hostility and apathy, but the misconception continues.
A warmth within struggling to surface,
Never to be viewed or felt.
Only a desire,
Unable to be attained(obtained).
Gelid flesh-
Frigid, Frosty.
Melts, but freezes over.
A gelid fire unable to be only one.
Unable to thaw and prosper,
To spark
To burn
To warm the deep opaque darkness.
Sharp.Frozen.Bright.
No matter the warmth-
Iced fingertips chilled to the bone.

Quiet and demure night
one finds out by chance
is sleeping peacefully
on the same bed,
covered by a grey blanket
the sultry day too seeks after,
the tribulations a day long.
One would think that
smug and complementing light
for her is an anathema, is it?
But now it comes to light,
he is more like her paramour,
this face she keeps hidden
so audaciously, the unabashed
adulteress has no sense of shame
"When you imagine things,
take responsibility to it,
don't try to blame others"
You'd hear her murmur,
the long clandestine affair of
darkness to light, takes me
to where it all began..
will there be diversity
that enriches life without contrast?
The Himalayas should
sincerely thank ocean trenches..

There is a Frantic Masquerade, I've heard it said,
where masquers revel in moonlight in the dark city streets.
Their iron shoes burn a smouldering red
and compels them never end the song they sing with their feet.

There is a leather Curtain, made up of silence and shame.
They place upon each dancer's face as they waltz through the night.
They never share a longing gaze, never whisper a lover's name,
and as their souls lose their lustre, their iron shoes burn ever bright.

There is a lonely Ballroom of sad rain and cold concrete,
where masquers revel in terror at the symphony in their heads.
Their steps move ever faster, but their empty eyes never meet.
Hearts cold, they dance with hot feet, ere they're dead.

     There is a Frantic Masquerade, I've heard it said.
     Their icy hearts stave off passion's heat.
              They'll dance that way till the shoes burn through their head,
and only when the ice melts might their heart's dance be complete.

Used to be, that i could walk down to the store and grab some milk...
...It's too far
Used to be, that I could wash all my clothes and then put them away...
...It's too hard

Used to be that I could walk & run,
Right a task list, get it done,
Plan a night out, have some fun,
But now I can't, and I feel so dumb.

Example A, my laundry, begging for OMO,
***** clothes, still lying on the floor.
Plain clothes waiting patiently for the cupboard,
So far, it's been at least five days, or more.

But I try, then I sigh, now, I cry.

Motivation for myself?
     That is no more
Motivation for others?
     I'll find a way to the door
I wake up in the morning and I can't raise my head
Unless a friend needs my help, then I'll get out of bed
But if I'm the one calling, then the phone's always dead.

Please evict this depression,
Please just send it away
Because I'm so sick of asking:
"What's the point of today?"

Why do I bother to stay?

The   sea  is  forever,
as  even  now,
never  the  same.
It  stirs  and  breaks,
mends  and  unites.

From  shore  to  shore
the  same,
yet,
from  wave  to  wave
so  different.

Perhaps  it  knows
the  Why's  of  life.
Shall  I  dare  ask?
And  what  shall  I  hear?

The  fierceful  cries
of  a  thousand
seagulls  in  mine  ear!

Only when the rain comes does the road I travel down reflect all light directed to it.
For in the hazy sheen given to all things
in such a dreary-gray drizzle all that shines
finds room to grow indefinitely.
The headlights, and the stoplights and the store lights and the city lights; the pretty lights
all tumble down and find themselves woven
or rather painted on every curbside, every parkway, every avenue and mainstay.
The intersections are much like a pool of paint and water,
giving birth to a shimmering iridescent daughter.
While in the cool of night when the water falls like air,
I can do nothing but stop a while and stare.
Only when the rain comes does the road I travel down reflect all light directed to it.
Not but a metaphor is this.

Seldom touched are the ways which we can circumnavigate ourselves.
So little searched are the depths at which the spirit dwells.
Yet quickly recognized is the truth that there is something truer than ourselves.
And all depends on how far the human delves;
Into light, into dark, into ruin, into joy, into peace, into war, into pain into pleasure.
Into life and death, into poverty and treasure.
For though we chase after only what may make us smile,
there is more required to make life worthwhile.
Though heartbreak and tears may last through the years
deliverance shall be sweeter still than any passive happiness.
Far more beautiful is life with its portion of strife
and far more worthy is man who has suffered.

You have long nails
I chew mine
Stunt their growth
With nervous teeth
Hungry teeth

I stunt mine
And lament their loss

We contrast
Black to colour
Stride to bounce
Distanced to cuddly

You avert questions,
Throwing random jest
I open up and bare my soul
Honest as I can figure

Under these beautiful cloaks
We sing in unison
Sorrow and deep caring
Somehow, we understand.

Our awkwardness is equal to none
That just heightens the intensity
I explore, feet, hands,
You let me, then clasp tight

The goth and the pixie.
Who would have thought?

Call me twice
By phone to phone
Kickstart again
fill in the noise
Of cars and empty busses
Passing on through ***** streets

And solitude will give you truth
But extravertial dreams pass by  
And The Words pass by
And the ticking clock stops
And the doubts will end
So Stay on the beat
But don't be a fool
Look down
Oh Look down
And turn east towards home
For as the crow flies
You're going on track

So don't loose your head  
With heartbreak rhymes
Or by lonely walks
Or not showing up
Because you don't need it
None of it
All you need is to be you

--------------------------------

Then Answer me once
Without those bundled up words
A year's been far too long for this
For the secrets been spilled
The music's been stopped
All that remains is traffic and pain  

And loneliness is no great friend
So force yourself to marry that fool
Do it just right
In a pristine church
To win some kind of forgotten duel
Make some empty plans
To catch up on friends
Remember your missing days?
You can count the past on ticking clocks
If have the time to spare

And do you look back?
With teary eyes
Or shorter breaths
Or great regrets
Do you stay awake at night
Wishing you had just been you?
Well strike yourself from the milk box signs
Because you know I certainly do