a horde of hateful men
standing together resolved
on a platform of prejudice
each mind empty inside
devoid of substance
vessels to be filled
by the bitter hatred
of only one man

a spontaneous nature
is a nature of free will
to act in the moment
is to be free of restraint

Each night since he left
I trace your words on my skin
I memorize the curve of the L
And try to imagine what you would say

But the truth is I haven’t the slightest clue
You never worried about men, so it seemed.
I wish you had taught me how.

better to be in the moment
than editor and critic of the moment

ours is a generation
that is skimming 
this book called life

instead of embracing
each and every word
on each and every page

better to experience 
few things deeply than
many things halfway

A glance across a room
A not so subtle smile
The vortex of what is yet to come
The wander and the yearning
No sleep, up till 4 am
Exchange of what has been and is
And what could be, but may not
The words that seal what hearts feel
The one who becomes familiar like home
Arms wrapped around your soul
The anguish
Of the words
The ones that sit deep
Brushed from the surface,
They fester beneath
The words that make you promises
And the silence that breaks them
When words are not enough
When they become louder, meaner,
Shouting
When you finally find the words to say
I’ve had enough
When your words no longer work
Banished into regret
Words left unrequited
Unspoken words.