You once said you couldn't picture anyone not loving me.
Don't worry, I can picture it really, really well.

If all good things must come to an end
Then the nightmare of losing you is forever

how do you explain something
that you don't even understand yourself?

that's what mental illness is like.
always searching for the horizon
or some sort of earthly catastrophe
that could explain the brokenness
you feel inside your heart.

always afraid of getting
close to the thing most precious
to you out of fear that you might
break it or that it may be tainted by your demons.

that piercing feeling in your stomach
that you can't seem to shake in the
middle of the night as you lie awake
wondering if you deserve to see another sunrise.

mental illness is like a never-ending
dream of constant chaos
but underneath are broken
and beautiful people who
deserve to be loved and known.

you tell me what you've learned
from your "failed" marriage
when you fell for someone else;

"you can try to shirk away love
but the act of doing so will destroy you"

and a pang of sadness cuts deep
at the pit of my stomach as I realize
I will always be destroyed

they say we're asleep
until we fall in love
but dreams are the only
way I get to see your face
or touch your skin
life became the nightmare
awakening, impossible
when you're gone for good
love has left me

shards of broken glass
surround me as I walk
along this lonely road
listening to the sound of
the black sparrow
singing from the treetop.

I make being bad feel so good
You do as you're told, like you should
Always great at taking direction
Agreeing to my every predilection
Your bruised knees as you kneel
Filth when you tell me how it feels
Bite down on the pillow and grab my skin
I'll make you feel good with a little sin
****** you with my lips and kiss
Say I'm all you've ever missed
Let me use the cuffs or crop
Tell me when you've had enough
Whisper something to make you blush
Love your skin when it gets flush
Let's spend all night, just the two of us
Hands pressed together, nothing left to discuss

if love was recognized
for it's true, transcendental nature

if love was felt
in its deep, radiant vibrations

if love was seen
as its pure true self

if love was manifested
with all of ones righteous intentions


.



then we could say we were enlightened
no longer of this scattered, dysfunctional frequency
but of a higher vibration
grounded to the truth







s.q.





.

a word is a poem.
a line is a poem.
a thought is a poem.
a poem is whatever you want it to be.
a poem can be that love note
that you leave on your crush's locker.
a poem can be that lonely 3 a.m thought
that you can't seem to get out of your head.
a poem could be the most profund thing
or the most simple thing.

that "thing" is not for others to decide
but for you to decide for yourself.

a poem is what you make of it.