The concept of you scares me.
The thought of you picking at the thing I spent years constructing.
Piece by piece you get closer,
to me,
to what I try so hard to destroy.
Not understanding why I'm so reluctant,
why I, after so long, cannot do it again.

For I do not believe feelings can be mutual
I do not believe one can look at me and feel the way i do,
I do not believe, in certain light
that this concept of love exists.

I believe in wholehearted conversations,
and laughs underneath the gleaming moon.
I believe in strong friendships.
But for this to be everlasting,
for one to crave me as much as I crave them,
that is fictitious.

we have closed conversations and then forget everything that we said
words we hide and store away, in the back of our heads
that none of this never, ever happened
but we know the truth behind these masks
and the desire to feel that it was entirely real, even if it was only that moment

Because this heart just loves,
Furtively yet habitually.
The passion for love so intense:
it creates the beloved!
In the imagination alone;
Falls for imagined beaux.
This heart simply loves...
It ain't capable of any otherwise...
Or even if were, it'd credit love!

this pain in the middle
spinning, dividing, spinning
there are two points of him

he howls in my dreams
with cold hands in transcendental spaces
like a long absence in an imaginary present

his eyes - two black boxes
recording all the right data
everything more real than necessary
performing the body with toast sensations

he pauses naturally in the dark room
the man with the moon
swallowed
in his heart

Thoughts of the self-spoken
Left me wandering;
Tangled into the parable visions
As we gaze through the celestial eerie.
Mirrors from side to side,
I still can't see the myself inside.
Mazy patterns were confusing my mind.
Despicably appropriate,
Whereas the heavens of alas contemplate.
In this empty vast,
We see light from present to past.
Scourging sun diminishes darkness
Over light in distant visionless.
Blinded to see the real vision of the race;
To acknowledge the imagery painted to praise.
Entire race failed to obey,
Garner the intellect of marionettes strings,
Puppets of the mischief,
Puppeteers of a sheep,
The scent of the blood,
Descends a ripple from hate.
Cast the spell upon yourself,
And let the bloodshot eyes tell
How it visions the dark world's hell.

look at me
please.
as i search for
as you search for
something real
something i can actually feel
silences -
too wide to reach
your evening shadows blue on blue
my empty starlit boulevards
gaps.
gaps and gaps and gaps and gaps!
gaps in my mind
gaps in your steps
gaps, widening
between your lines and mine
look at me
please!
do not fall back
back into
my make beliefs.