None of the rays of sunshine
would deign this waxy skin,
just sand burned to ashes,
regurgitation from the slobbery hysteria
of the filthy sea.
None of these days of summertime
would violate my inner ancestral frost.
Red dragon of stone, this soul of mine
beneath the labyrinthine ghost,
of the wicked fate.
The stoic age wears the same livery,
in the smoke of my hyperuranium
no scream comes over this far
where the solid patience
is the only certainty
that dwells inside my self.

I have to push you away so I can feel the pain.
I don't wanna do this, it drives me insane.
There are some things I just can't explain.
I don't know why I have to live in vain.

I know the pain will not last forever.
Healing takes time, my heart was severed.
It's been many moons, the feelings have weathered.
To stay away from you would make me feel better.

Being with you has made me learn about life.
Don't give too much, they'll take it for granted.
At the end of this tunnel I know there's a light.
The light that leads my life is shining so bright.

I do not regret anything that happened.
Everything that happened is God's master plan.
Maybe he seen that you weren't for me.
But I will always love you, I need to be free.

Carrying the weight has made me much stronger.
Making me feel like my heart is brand new.
Ready for new love, fresh from the start.
But don't go too fast, don't rush the heart.

It tears me up for us to be apart.
But I'm a better man, to play a new part.
I learned about love, and how to let it show.
Be the best you can be, and just let her know.

Don't show it too much, they'll push you away.
That's what happened to me on a rainy February day.
But always reassure them that they're admired.
The fire burns steady, and will never grow tired.

But I will be the best that I can be.
Like me with her, when things were young and free.
And love someone who won't throw it away, just as she did.
And live a happy life, the way that it used to be.

Spent the evening
in the restaurant, surreptitiously looking
at distant women between the heads of men
  Games ensued
when I caught some
looking at me
     The eyes are important
     in the connections of us
     I flicked mine: this
     and that way:
tipsy slur in the way I threw the eyes
and the women I was playing with,
like I, playing and talking and playing
the people we were talking to had no clue;
the waitrons waited, the chefs never waiting;
no one had a clue.

Suddenly came a wave,
once silent in the sea of feeling,
and took energy
from every current before its time
then in one great sweep
swooped me and the sand of my spirit,
shaken like a potent drink,
to quake and proclaim to myself:
  There are so many women in the world
much more than men
for so much beauty
how can one ever be committed to only one?

     Always too* patient
I am then they are gone
to live again in my thoughts
resurrected as regret;
I pay for these evenings:
with unquenchable eyes,
with the big-chested wave collapsing into foam,
with the promise of love -
with myself.
This is what life is
to those who wait too* long:
all one ever kissed were eyes
while the ocean erupts
within the chalice of vulnerability
one's lips tremble from a safe distance;
but love never was the dying wave at one's feet.

"As far as I can see
The world is moving fast
And my heavy heart cannot comprehend it
It cannot keep up
I look around seeing different expressions on the faces of people
Some of them are like me
Some of them aren't
Some of them know me
Some of them do not
And to be completely and utterly forthright
They are better off without me
I have centered my emotions around myself
Forgetting that there are people who understand
People who care
But I am no longer right in my mind
Once soft and once so kind
Filled with patience and love
Now with no tolerance and hatred
I long to leave this place
I no longer have much to give
I long to leave
I long to
I long
I."

Through sweat-filled labor
and unrelenting love,
my patient parents
meticulously molded
strong shoes to fit,
making each effort efficient
and all materials durable
so that if I were to walk
the path full of broken glass,
my skin would not tear,
my spirit not diminish,
and through their sacrifices,
prevent my blood
from staining the street.

Poison
The First
The Serpent
The Water
The venomous black ink
Slithers endlessly
Silently
Until she reaches her prey
Power
The Second
The Demon
The Fire
The burning red ember
Watches now
Patiently
As her victim is drawn to her warmth
Sorcery
The Third
The Conjurer
The Wind
The Shadow Of The Night
Needs only
To exist
And her casualty swarms to her allure
A trifecta binds, seeking
A fourth
The man
The earth
The flesh and the bone
A host and a home
A willing sacrifice
Falling victim to her charm
Silently striding to his own demise
He succumbs completely
She devours wholly
The elements are in order
The black magic witch is born