Whatever happened to the ambition
The youthful enthusiasm of dancing in the wild
As the synth rhythm guides each limb
In accordance to the sentiment given by the DJ


We were nothing more than broke kids


There was something beautiful about the way our spirits
Would float like wisps in the wind
Freefalling past the worries that held us back
From seeing the 5am sun

It felt so real!
those eyes of yours looking for a sunshine
that crumbling body alone to define
telling things went so insane
It felt so real!
that running nose hiding tears boldly
way for optimism fiercely
It felt so real!
when you said you are happy
that smile of yours melting things rocky
innocence in face calming all smoothly
shine in heart jolting agony hastily
those kindest acts leaving trance of humanity
It felt so real!
Immersing in your duality.

Everything about you!
It felt so real thou
even after leaving my pillow!

I spend more time dreaming than I do awake
With every lapse I'm world's away
If I don't hold on I'll float away
My heart's grown wings and yearns to fly away
My mind is trapped and needs escape

You are the only one who can make you whole, and you can make another whole...expectation is the enemy to satisfaction. And satisfaction is whole...expectation is half a fantasy. Knowing expectation is a half of a fantasy, can make it better. Hang on, this rollercoaster is still going up hill. Those butterflies will come back.

Life is pink
Pink flowers, pink leaves, pink people
How could I not love all of this
Everything is accented
Even the dew hints at pink shimmers
And you,
You SHINE in this pink glow
How could you ever do anything wrong
When everything you do seems so right
And the pink glare hides anything I wouldn't like
So I get to live in my perfect pink fantasy

My summer haze.
You exist
as salted scrunchies,
Freckled thighs,
Whiskey tongue.
You exist,
Right?

By Fall,
I know it to be true.
My autumn girl.
I look into her
tasting wet leaves,
pine and cinnamon.
Her body still
hot as August sun.

Fireplace feet,
wobbly knees under fleece.
Suddenly,
you are Christmas wine,
Snowflake tears.
Teeth never clattered,
Hands never cold.

I can’t see spring.
Perhaps that’s where it ends.
Maybe it never was.
Still,
I dream of you
And still,
I wonder
if you dream too.

I want to be swollen
with sweet word growing,
impregnated with that which
is made for taking darkness
and transmuting it into
a light of love for all to
fall comfortably into.

I want to take this language,
work and refine those fine
lyrical lines that make minds
turn towards acting kind.

But I have lost the eloquence
that was once my treasured gift,
and all that falls from my lips,
is red and brown drips of ****.
I’ve gone from child optimist
to exhausted adult cynic.

I have lost the fairies and dragons,
unicorns, and gentle care bears
and now dim dreams live there.

Vague impression of once vibrant
brush strokes, and dancing limbs
have giving in to warring men’s
disturbing intentions.
Nightmare too horrible to mention
have become my waking certainty.

But what is really bothering me,
is that it has become much easier
to accept this sick distorted reality.

The canvass of life has become
the splatter art of a billion broken hearts,
and I have mastered the skill
of numbing what I used to feel
in favor of current forms of
self-amusement.