In the back of my head i can hear them,
Tiny voices pulling me near them,
Asking me begging me to write these words.
The voices of dead poets all speaking to me at once
Telling me the words they were never able to speak.

Entrusting me with the words that remain unwritten and unknown.
Inside of me i can hear them growing louder and louder and behind each word the feeling, the passion that burned inside of them.

Like so many things in life the only way to silence them is to satisfy them.
So i desperately write until my hands begin to bleed.
Until tears run down my face and trickle onto the page.

When i run out of ink i will use my blood,
I will write and write until i cant anymore
then i will join them...
I will join the voices that once haunted me. I will become the voice that keeps YOU up at night.
I will become that voice that screams in the back of every writers mind.

“Tap,” beckoned the door,
A, “knock,”
And signature I’d never forget –
Cross the “t’s, “dot the “i’s,”
An empty night’s forged check
And liquor paved path to be,
To bed, it’s her, it’s her.

It’s also 3:10 AM,
Better than PM,
Where I’m still awake,
Still at work,
And as always,
Annoyed by the nuisance of
Another.

I don’t say “hi,”
And far from reluctantly,
She grabs a beer,
The only cold one I’ve got,
Frail fingered, cry-stain eyed,
And fresh off the ultimate high,
Love, and again.

She hovers to my room,
A natural,
Where she walks with closed lids
Guided by music that’s
Remnant and
Leaking phantoms
From speakers spiting souls –

And it’s
The song she always played,
And it’s, “ours,”
Once a favorite of mine,
And it’s now if only a melody,
Destroyed by repetition and her
Obsession with “echoes.”

I endure.

Every time I rest my head on his chest, I could hear echoes of all the people who had let go.

I hear echos but I can't see,
I reach out and nothing is before me,
Not friend, Nor nary a person
Not a tree, nor wildlife is is here to meet,
No stars, No sky, No hello's and no goodbye's,

Oh dear god I think I can see,
But in a non-existent silence I feel
Nothing is there, the end of the deal,
Nothing is aware, Then nothing can be real,
Nothing makes space and time, reality.

And you and I can question why,
but minds together cannot even weather
The rocks buried in our minds,
It won't align but I can tug on the tether,
Now I only have everything to find.

The crow's call echoes travel on the bitter breeze of a September morning. the breeze travels far, then there is silence.

Isn’t love what we think it is? You have me falling in love like a trap-door, and I’m all yours once I re-enter. You are my space, everytime I’m around you I get blank that way you may fill me with your tales, with the memories of you and I, us and we. Plural life as if we were words, but in a way we are. I can go down a list of adjectives that describe you, yet only one word describes us.
Infatuated.
Our souls are two blades curved in on themselves, yet when they are placed together form the sacred symbol of what we find as love. Irony in it’s purest form.
You refuse to cease to amaze me, so grant me this one favor, when you hear the voices of your past, think of my voice, my walk, my face, my hands, my love. I will forever miss what we will have when the days are done.
You place me in a garden of echoes. I hear them wherever I go, so is it safe to tell you that you are my garden? Is it safe that you know that your voice is like a lullaby to me? Because it’s true. Without the mellifluous voice of intimatic emotions biting on my ear, I can’t function correctly.
So I always miss what I have, what I may lose one day, but I always remember that an echo isn’t an echo until it is found once more by the ears of the one that had sent it’s vibes askew. So I’ll be waiting, my love, until I find your voice becoming my echo.

Echoes we sometimes hear in life, we will never be able to control
reawakening in us a spiritual side, putting us in touch with our soul
much like an internal echo, signaling us, trying to get our attention
Heaven's attempt to stir us up, forcing upon us a spiritual reflection

Echoes always come unannounced, we sense they emanate from within
consciously drawn to this new world, a somewhere we've never been
our thoughts focus us on our past, memories that can capture our mind
sometimes overcome with sadness, needing recollections to be defined

Echoes cause us to relive our past, but they help us to get over our pain
removing sadness and shame, and bringing us into this new domain
examining why we felt so plagued, and searching to know the reason
knowing as human beings, trials and tribulations change each season

Echoes of confusion and pain, replaced by a harmony, an unending joy
thoughts are no longer depressing, peace and serenity never to destroy
the state of mind that we keep, is our true reality where we take shape
but know that our thoughts, this will forever be our test, there is escape

We hear what we want to hear, see what we want to see, this is our power
echoes we choose to hear or to ignore, we alone are the keeper of the tower
the forces of evil are empowered to test us, with these thoughts we keep
so remove them from memory, find eternal happiness, before that final sleep