Humble greetings all
we rise or fall
upon the swords which are our words
steel of critics teeth to edge the blade,
a thousand stings and stabs
or gentle and much softer blows
which fortune falls upon the writers head
is not for us to tell,
what literary hell awaits
who knows

wet skin to skin; a tightly gripped kiss - urged lips
that surely wished they had spoken their feelings first,
then to seem like they’re both trying to quench each other’s
thirst. still shivering in my nerves that I’ve grown so lost
for my words – trying to find my identity in your eyes surface
              ...you look too beautiful for me to even claim

it’s my own shame, that sticks on my throat like a smoker’s
cough – though this love sickness is worth the bit of irritation,
of not always knowing what to do when I’m so close to you
                     ...so yes, I held you, and kissed you

but that wasn’t the initial plan; you rested in my arms and I
had my words for you ready and armed – but my hand in it
all had lost its touch. darling this is so much of a rush for
just a simple crush, to us finally going out, more than once
       …I just wish that from the beginning, I had told you,

                                                      “I think I’m in love”

Hopeless City please remember me when I end up forgetting myself,
Hopeless City please guide me when I take a wrong turn in hope of finding something new,
Hopeless City please don't leave me like so many others have before you
Hopeless City, crowded buildings, empty streets but night life booming,
Master of fait, future keeper, love maker, love stalker all consuming
Hopeless City please remember when I end up forgetting myself,
Hopeless City please don't lose interest and turn your attention somewhere else,
Because I'm not much but I'm something,
Im swimming when your sinking,
Nights alone, *** drugs and drinking,
Hopeless City please we're both falling but at least we're not alone,
Hopeless City please don't forget me for your my only home

Ye much like akin of sin not rut
Hence zen at stake compel
more than ye to truly accept
spell bound land that cast lite
Which lost harbinger never apart from
Hence ye might must perfect cursed fu
Which counter kia hast long sprung
Cause lark of loss gawd proudly sing at heart
I am nor what living script meant
I am sinorut via host welcomed descent
Hence destiny account for wake of us
Though fate continues too miscount era
Hence we winerves through serving evil in labor good at work

sorrow fills my body but i don't notice
until it's too late.
but when is
"too late"?
is it when my tears are barreling out of their ducts like tsunamis?
or when i can't get out of bed more than twice a day?
or when i don't know if the reason i can't breathe is the weight of melancholy on my chest or not?
or is "too late"
the beginning of it all?
when is it "too late"?
"too late" has a certain ring to it.
it sounds
like when you're rushing to get someplace important but you trip and fall
and realize
that it doesn't truly matter.
because nothing does.
when is "too late"?